Chapter 94: A burden My phone was ringing in my lap. I wiped the tears from under my eyes and removed my jacket, placing it in the passenger seat of my car. I picked up, "Hi mom." "TELL ME WHY THERE IS A PADLOCK ON OUR FRONT DOOR?!" I forgot about that. "Because someone broke into our house and we have no lock on our-" "WHERE'S THE KEY?!" I extended my arm so my phone was at a further distance to my ear, "I have it-" "SO HOW ARE WE GOING TO ENTER OUR OWN HOME?! DOZ AND I ARE STANDING OUT HERE LIKE IDI*TS!" "I'm coming back now. I'll be there in twenty min-" "TWENTY MINUTES?! WE'RE NOT GOING TO WAIT FOR YOU! YOU BETTER BE HOME BY THE TIME WE COME BACK FROM DINNER!" she yelled, until her voice changed tone and I guessed she was talking to Doz, "She said she'll be here in twenty minutes." The line went dead. I sat in the silence of my car, feeling an emptiness after all that shouting. I picked myself up and rested my hands on the steering wheel. I looked out at Cearra's house and thought of the supportive family inside. One day, I hoped to have something similar to that. I began driving home, wondering what kind of music would get me out of this funk. I pressed shuffle. ** I parked in the driveway of my home and pressed my face into my hands. I focused on my breathing, trying to still the panic inside of me. I was feeling this more and more lately – a sense of fear behind everything. I pushed open the car door, reaching out for my jacket in the passenger seat before sliding out. The keys to the padlock were in one of my jacket pockets and I fumbled for them as I walked to the front door. My scruffy shoes stopped. And my jacket fell on the concrete beside me. He was sitting on my front doorstep. His elbows pressed against his knees as he looked down at the ground. The wind ruffled through his dark hair, but he didn't move. I wondered how long he had been sitting there, waiting for me. I kept my eyes on him, watching him as if we were back at summer camp and I had no idea what to expect next. I'd do anything to see into his thoughts sometimes. "Hi," I said awkwardly, reaching down to pick up my jacket. I watched his shoulder muscles roll back as he looked up, his piercing gaze hitting me deep inside. His shirt adjusted around his chest. It's criminal to look the way Luke does, to feel the way Luke makes me feel, because I become so weak to stand my ground against him. Luke didn't stay anything, but he stood up to his full height and stepped back. I approached the front step, drawing close to him. I watched how his left sneaker was inches away from knocking gnomey over. "It's cold to wait out here," I said, one eye protectively watching gnomey while I unlocked the padlock. Luke didn't answer. He followed my gaze down to his left shoe and then to gnomey beside it. The gardon gnome stared at us with a goofy expression. Luke shook his head before he moved, walking inside. I felt the pressure release when he wasn't so close to me. I was relieved that my mother had decided to go to dinner. The last thing we needed was another interrupted moment. I don't know how much time Luke and I had before they returned. Like he could read my thoughts, he said, "Your mom's back." I nodded, following him into the living room, "I'm surprised she came back." "I'm probably not welcome here from now on." Our parents hadn't exactly created a warm atmosphere for us to be together. These were tensions that we could never have known about when we first met. I couldn't hold his gaze. It was deep and honest, like he was ready to have that kind of conversation. I led the way, up the stairs and took him to my bedroom. If my mom returned, at least there would be another door between us and her. My bedroom door creaked behind us and he closed it firmly, one palm on the white door. "You're not usually the quiet one." "I don't know what to say, Luke," I answered, "We're suspended." "I know," he replied. "I'm sorry you were dragged into it." I wasn't upset about the punishment. I stood by my desk, rocking my knee against the red chair. Papers were piled in a mess on the desk and there was a stale glass of soda there from my last study session. "We can't go on like this," I finally said, still avoiding his gaze, "I know there's a blackmailer out there trying to ruin us, but we're the ones ruining our own lives now. They didn't get us almost expelled today. We did that." "I didn't want you to be there," he answered, still standing by the door, "I did what I thought was right." We're on two different sides of this. We've made our marks in the sand and now it was a question of if we could cross over into the other side. He's stubborn and so am I.