CRASHING DOWN [l.zvhal]

chapter five

Laurance's POV

Time passes, and Y/N and I are partners in a school project. She's warmed up to me greatly and has replaced her glares with smiles. We've even hung out with me by ourselves. Though because of this, Garroth has threatened to kick my ass

It's the end of the school day, and we're going to my house. It's been a few months since we've moved here, and we're already over a quarter into the school year.

"Why the fuck does your car smell the way it does?" Y/N asks, making me glance over at her with a lifted eyebrow. I didn't think it smelled weird.

"Why the fuck are you complaining when I can make your ass walk?"

"Touché," she mumbles, looking out the window at the passing trees. She rests her chin on her hand with a soft sigh. "It's better than Garroth's stupid blue car."

I let out an obnoxious laugh as I try to keep my eyes on the road. I don't have a new car, instead it's the car my dad drove before he got a new one, but I happen to like this car. It's gotten me places and works like a charm. Besides, girls like a guy who can drive them places.

"I'd make fun of you, but that's your brother, and I don't want to be punched," I say.

Y/N looks over to me and stifles a giggle. She glances at me for a brief second and quickly looks back out the window. She opens her mouth to say something but closes it again. If she disses the smell of my room, I may flip my crap.

Eventually the car stops, and we're face to face with the front of my house. It wasn't an awkward drive, and I appreciated that. . . even if she made fun of the smell of my car. Cadenza's smells bad. She made it all girly.

She walks up to my front door and waits for me to unlock it. I've never said much about my family other than my sisters. I don't talk much about dad because he typically never falls into conversation. It's always something that happened and how it reminded me of my sisters.

My keys jingle slightly against each other and my key chain when I lift them to the locked door. Slowly, but surly, the door opens to reveal a cold house.

"My dad works late tonight, so I'm not sure if you'll see him today," I tell her, offering a slight smile to get rid of some of my nerves. My sisters will be here later, but I don't want her to think I got her here alone for hours on end.

She nods her head and walks inside. Y/N has been here a few times before, but not often. Usually company is at her house. Before our house was full of boxes, so there wasn't much room for company.

"What about your mom?"

I look over to her from the place where our keys go. The only set of keys out of the three drivers in the house present are mine.

I try to smile, but it's awkward and extremely forced looking, and rub the back of my neck. "I, ah, don't have one. She died when I was little."

Her eyes widen and apologies spew from her mouth. It's no big deal. I never really knew my parents before their death, so there's not much to remember about them. All I know is that they were once present in my life and fate decided against them. I have a father, and he's working late.

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

The beginning half of when we were working on our project was slightly awkward. I feel that Y/N was afraid to talk about anything that wasn't related to our work from fear of making the same mistake from earlier.

At this point we're just sitting on the floor with supplies sprawled out in front of us. Y/N appears to be bouncing with something in her mind, but she won't share it with me.

I chuckle to myself before pulling out my wallet and placing a penny in front of us. "Care to share your thought? I have a pretty penny if you want to trade for it."

Y/N looks up at me, a blank look on her face before her eyes widen. A slight blush appears across her face as she looks down at the penny, the words beginning to make sense in her head.

"O-Oh!" She stutters out, a bit embarrassed to be caught off guard the way she was. "I wouldn't want to pain you or anything. . . and you honestly don't even need to answer my question and can tell me to leave." She begins to trail off into a distant ramble. I'd laugh at her, but I don't want to make her feel silly.

"You want to know about my mother?" I ask, and slowly we regain eye contact. Her eyes slowly lift from her feet and her head slowly nods when we lock a gaze. She looks vulnerable, and I can feel a softening within me from it.

The story begins near the beginning of my life, a year or two after Alex was born. "I must've been either three or four at the time. Sometimes I forget what the true year is. When I said my mother was dead, I didn't tell you my father is too. I'm adopted. I don't know much of my parents except of a few blurry memories and what I've been told about them. Alex is my biological sister, but Cadenza was adopted a bit of time before us."

Y/N's stare feel gentle. Not like a mother's gaze. . . not that I actually know what that feels like. . . but almost like someone you've known for your entire life. It's a gaze that means she cares and is listening.

"They died due to a car accident. All I know is that Alex and I were in the car when it happened and they died in the hospital," I say, looking down at the ground. "We were in the orphanage until I was about six before being adopted. Soon, I was homeschooled and out into public school in Meteli come middle school. It wasn't until this year that we moved to Phoenix Drop."

I've never truly been this open about my past before. I questioned why the past was why it was and what I could've done to make it happen, but as a kid you don't understand you couldn't change it. After a while of questioning, you eventually give up. I didn't really have anyone to ask the questions to, and I didn't want to tell anybody my past. I didn't have many people to tel either.

But now I feel as though I do have someone to open up to. As strange as it sounds, I understand why people do it. I've bottled up my past for so long and only told bits and pieces, as if I were embarrassed to share all, but now I'm glad I've opened up to someone else.