Page 147 of Chaos

A noise rumbles in Lux’s throat, disbelieving and dismissive. “You know he called me last night?”

I nod.

“I came right over. He didn’t say it, but I knew something was wrong, I just had this feeling, and I needed to see you were alright with my own two eyes. You were asleep when I got here, but he was awake. Holding you. Looking at you. You know what it reminded me of? The way Jackson looks at Luna. The way Hunter looks at Caroline.”

That’s… I scoff. Half-hearted.Hopeful. “You’ve been reading too many romance books again.”

“Yeah, well. Maybe if a hot cowboy looked at me like that, I wouldn’t need to.”

I laugh, a watery, broken noise. And then I retreat from my hiding spot, head flopping to one side so I can assess the level of consolation behind Lux’s claim, the hilarity behind it.

I don’t know how to feel when I find none of either.

Through the windshield of my sister’s truck, Ponderosa Falls Community Center mocks me.

Failure, I swear the bland building leers.Weak.

I undid my seatbelt at least ten minutes ago, but I’ve yet to open the door. I can’t. My shaky, stubborn, prideful hands won’t do it. They prefer to pick at a scab on my knee that I don’t even remember getting, the prick of pain infinitely more appealing than what’s sure to be pure and utter humiliation.

Before I manage to draw blood, a hand settles on top of mine and laces our fingers together, squeezing. “Lot?”

I mutter some unintelligible acknowledgement.

“Look at me for a sec, chaos girl.”

With a shaky exhale, I lift my gaze and meet my sister’s solemn, determined one.

“You can do this.”

I don’t share her confidence—I don’t think I can. Not alone, at least.

“Will you…” I swallow hard, wetting my dry lips. “Will you come in with me?”

She was always supposed to—what with it being such a momentous occasion and all, Erica encouraged me to bring family—but I assumed she wouldn’t anymore. Evidently, we both did, because Lux blinks, surprised.

She erases her shock quickly though, nodding as enthusiastically as is considered appropriate, considering the circumstances. When she exits the truck, I follow her lead—actually, it’s more like I’m yanked in her wake, out of the car and up the stone steps and into the draughty hall that’s already bustling with people.

Part of me—okay, maybe all of me—expects a barrage of accusatory looks the second I cross the threshold. I wait for a whole lot of noses fine-tuned to the stench of alcohol to smell it on me, never mind the fact I’ve showered enough times to kick start a drought. I wait for Erica to appear, ringing a bell and screaming‘shame’in my face.

None of that happens.Nothinghappens. Nothing out of the usual, at least.

Like always, I beeline for the refreshments table, especially greedy for coffee this particular morning. Like always, someone else has already beat me there. Like always, Silas greets me with a grumbled, “Little heathen. You forget about me?”

“Old man,” I grumble right back, accepting the coffee he offers. “I could never.”

He grunts, and then he grunts again after doing what’s become a ritualistic assessment of my attire. “What’s wrong with you today?”

I play dumb, acting like I don’t already know his concern stems from the decidedly flat shoes on my feet—or maybe it’s the casual leggings and baggy t-shirt that’s confusing him. “Whatever do you mean, Gandalf?”

Silas harrumphs. “I don’t wear flip flops.”

“That’sGandhi, Einstein.”

Another displeased noise, and then weathered blue eyes finally register the person watching our exchange with tentative, surprised amusement. “Your ma rise from the dead or something?”

Both Lux and I choke, though I don’t think her breath gets caught on laughter like mine does. “This is mysister. Lux. Lux, this is Grand—I mean, Silas.”

The old man kisses his teeth at me, then at my sister. “You the one who called me last night?”

---