Terralux

Chapter 3: Embers

I really wanted to return Max's camera to him personally. That way, I would've been able to ask him what he had been doing in Sloth City that night. Sure, I was extremely thankful for what he did, and I'd probably never live to repay him. Returning the camera myself was the least I could do to show that. But still, he made a promise to his family and friends to never go back there.

I suppose he could place similar allegations against me, though. I was much less entitled to be there than he was. And I knew it. There would have been a lot to talk about if I had been allowed to deliver his camera; possibly too much. But even that was a faraway dream now. I was under house arrest and it would remain that way until I had "fully realized the consequences of my mistake."

That's what my parents had said, but they and I both knew that I'd already realized and experienced over and above the consequences necessary for that particular mistake. It was only because of their supposed obligations as parents that they still chose to punish me manually.

I wondered why none of my friends had called to check on me. After my little adventure, I had missed a whole week of school. Today would be my first day back, and I was anxious as I jumped out of the shower and struggled to tame my hair. My excitement, almost overwhelming me, wasn't caused by the fact that I'd be able to tell my story. I hoped to avoid that as much as possible. What I was excited about was the return to normalcy.

But my initial question still beat my brain raw. Why had no one called? I had a decent amount of friends. If none of them tried to contact me, I could've at least expected a ring from Quinn. But she hadn't called either. That's another reason why I was a bit anxious for school. I'd know what was going on and why I hadn't been informed of it.

My parents didn't say anything much to me as I practically hurdled out the front door to the bus stop. I had been like a bird, not even caged, but trapped in a holed box. I hadn't been outside for a week, and the sun was the first to greet me when I finally went.

In my rush, I was the first one at the stop. I hadn't fully dried my hair, as I noted that its springy locks were heavier than usual. I was thankful for the near arrival of summer, finishing this job for me. However, the air was moist and the sky was faded because of the harshness of rain from the previous few nights. Then, out of nowhere, my cheeks began to hurt. I realized that I had been smiling since I stepped out of the house and therefore forced myself to stop.

The sound of a front door opening and then shutting with a click caught my attention from behind. I turned to see Austin stepping out of his home and walking towards the stop. I placed my smile back on my face and waved.

Returning my wave, but only with a sufficient-enough smirk, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me. I was still smiling, I noted. When we stepped apart, I dreaded the question of "where have you been?" and prayed for it to remain only in my mind and not his. My prayer wasn't enough, for the question soon passed his lips.

"I was sick." I said simply. It wasn't a complete lie, so I said it more easily than I possibly would've said something else. Austin nodded and picked up his backpack from where he had thrown it to the side. I mentally sighed with his acceptance and absence of request for elaboration.

I liked Austin. I liked him too much, really. I regretted that I didn't have the courage to actually tell him, because nothing is more awkward than being a little bit afraid of one of your friends because you think they are the most beautiful being on Earth. I often thought about drawing Austin. To trace the delicate yet defined outline of the boy I loved and fill it with the color and life that he possessed would beat any kiss, in my opinion.

But a kiss would still be nice.

Then I realized that we had just shared a hug. Wishful moments like those were so fleeting that by the time I processed what had just happened, the moment was gone. Small insecurities about how strong a relationship we had often dispersed for a little while with small interactions like those. Small interactions like those had a bigger impact on me than he intended for them to.