salvation ; 𝐛. 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐬 , 𝟐

010. red curtains

"I DON'T WANT to talk about it," Cara insisted, crossing her arms as she sat across from Sam on the couch. Her feet up on the coffee table, she sat with her knees out, taking up as much space as she could. It was man-spreading if I'd ever seen it. "What happened between Cap and I is our own business. I've moved on, and so has he." She turned up her nose and looked up at the ceiling.

Sam smirked, giving me a sidelong glance. "No offense, Cara, but it kind of seems like you haven't."

My cheeks tingled with the way that he looked at me. The way that it was so natural for him, exactly like the good old days before all this. But I stifled a growl when his eyes met mine, forcing out a smile instead. I inhaled deeply to calm my senses, but I caught the sharp tang of earth and trees, like the forest surrounding my house. My eyes were open, but I saw Sam running away from me in my mind's eye, from the house, on his own to go and hide.

I'm sure Cara responded at some point, but I couldn't hear her over the blood roaring in my ears. I squeezed my eyes shut and put my face in my hands, curling into myself while sitting on the couch. There was nothing louder than my own shaky breathing for a few minutes. I didn't know where this was coming from. The smell of dirt, the memory of Sam leaving, I had no idea what brought it on. I'd been living alone after that day for months, and not once had my mind warped me like this.

"Hey, are you okay?"

Sam brought me out of my thoughts with a hand on my shoulder. It was meant to be kind, a compassionate gesture to an obviously struggling person next to him. But it only gave me the slightest sensation of pressure on my back and the urge to throw up. I shot up to my feet, my eyes wild as I looked at him. "I-I'm fine."

My friend, unable to let go of his mindset of a group leader at the Veterans Affairs, gave me a soft look. "Do you want to talk about anything?"

"I said I'm fine," I snapped. I scraped my scalp with my nails as if to claw the images and sensations out of my mind. Bringing myself to meet Cara's eyes, I held out a hand.

She knitted her eyebrows, perplexed. "Uh, sorry, I'm not one to hold hands much." Her hands slid into her pockets.

I rolled my eyes. "The keys," I said. "I'm gonna get the car off the street. It's too noticeable."

Cara stared at me. "There aren't any, remember? We jimmy-rigged the ignition. I can show you how, if you want."

"Oh." I shook my head. "No, that's okay. I can figure it out." I blocked out any noises of protest from either one of them and crept out the door, darting to the car in front of the house.

I'd never actually started a car without keys before, but I'd seen enough movies to know the general instructions. Huh, I thought, pop culture is actually coming in handy.

The car started with a low rumble, and I quickly maneuvered it into the garage, Sam having opened the door to assist me. The second I turned the vehicle off, the large garage door slid shut.

"Did anyone see you?" He asked, eyes darting back and forth out the window.

I shook my head. "Not likely." Wiping my hands on my jeans, I inhaled deeply and—thankfully—only smelled the bitter, metallic tang of gasoline. It's gone, but for how long? I still felt like it hovered in my nose, set aside for now only to come back at the most inopportune moment.

Sam nodded. "Good." He turned around and walked toward the sink, filling a glass with water. "Want something to drink, ladies? We've got a lot to talk about."

There was something so irritating about his nonchalance, his nearly careless attitude, that I had to hold myself back from knocking his jaw out of place. "Sure," I said stiffly.