Caught

Chapter Thirty-Nine

"Why did I take visual arts?" I whined, burying my face in my arms. I had no artistic ability what-so-ever yet here I am trying to come up with a concept for my next art project. I couldn't think of anything at all. I simply lacked creativity as a whole.

"Are you dying?" I looked up, my vision blurry so I couldn't really see who was there. However, the shape of the person and the messy hair gave them away. Spencer walked into my room and leaned over my chair. "What are you working on?"

"Stuff," I muttered back. I collected my pencils and piled the papers on top of each other. The assignment wasn't due until fifth period tomorrow, I could come up with something by then. Probably. "Need something?"

He took I bite out of a bar of chocolate in his hand. "Want some?" He asked, his mouth full. I look at him in disgust, then grabbed the bar from him. Hm... cookies and cream... not bad.

Spencer looked around my desk. "You're having trouble with art?" He somehow got that from the scattered mess. "You used to love art."

I sighed. "Why does everyone keep on mentioning things I used to love to do? I'm not that girl anymore. I don't think so."

Spencer bit his lip. "Well, everyone else doesn't know you actually fully lost your memory. They don't know everything that happened to you. And, well, I guess that slipped my mind for a second. It's good to be back at home... with you Lauren."

I run my hands through my hair. "I wish life was simpler."

"Anyway..." Spencer decided to change the topic. "Do you want to do something tonight? Like, just you and me. Dad's out somewhere so we're home alone either way."

"Where did Dad go?" I questioned, but my only response was a shrug.

"So, movies? Mall? Um, maybe not mall. Bike ride? Walk?" He went on and on suggesting things we could do. I had no idea why all of a sudden he wanted to do something. And on a Wednesday night. Didn't he have school tomorrow too?

"Is there a reason why we're doing this?"

"Do we really need a reason? We're siblings and siblings do stuff together." He leaned against what he thought was a wall, and stumbled into the closet. "It's not like I forgot to plan a date for Kassandra and am coming to you because I told her I promised we'd hang out tonight." He tugged on his shirt collar and I couldn't help but laugh.

"A bike ride sounds nice," I say. "but do you only ever come to me when you have to get out of a date? Am I not important enough to have time scheduled for me?"

Spencer laughed nervously as he walked out of my room. I grabbed a light coat and followed him out. He grabbed his keys from his room and locked the door behind him. I don't think I ever actually been inside there - in his room. He's always locked it or didn't want anyone in there while he was inside.

I slid down the banister, landing on the ground on my feet. I looked up to see Spencer, a look of astonishment on his face.

"What?"

"When did you learn to do that?"

"I didn't learn. I just did it."

"You could've gotten hurt."

"When do I not get hurt?"

Spencer stayed silent at that one. Surely a bruised arm was a lighter injury than a bullet wound or getting electrocuted a billion times.

I walked over to the front door, sliding my shoes on. "We aren't going that way," I heard Spencer say from the next room. "Bikes are in the garage."