Like Gold

29.

29.

AFTERWARDS, I stood on my porch watching dizzily as Jace waved goodbye and drove off, the minivan chugging down the street until it was only a dot on the horizon.

It was surreal. I was dating Jace. I just made out with Jace.

I held a hand to my forehead, my mind spinning. He'd just left, and I already missed him – missed his touch, his laugh, his lame jokes. I was counting down the hours until I'd see him again.

I had groaned on and on about how I didn't want to leave – that we should have just refilled his gas and drove and drove until we couldn't anymore. He laughed and pressed a long kiss to my mouth, his hands stroking lazy circles on my arms.

"Good luck," he had whispered against my lips, and I'd swallowed his words with a final peck before eventually I had to get out.

I turned to my house, still bleary-eyed and not quite present. My keys were cold in my fingers and I pushed them into the lock, twisting the handle and slipping inside. The living room seemed empty, but I'd seen the car in the driveway. I sobered immediately.

I had to be quiet. Careful.

I slipped my bag off my shoulder, slipping it silently onto a hook beside the door. My hands braced themselves on the edge of the door, pushing it slowly – so slowly – with only fingertips.

It closed behind me with a barely-there click, but that was enough for my mother.

She stepped out of the kitchen, her hands on her hips and brow severely wrinkled.

"Jasmine Ali," she said, her accent thick.

Oh no. That meant she was angry.

"Hi, Mama," I replied timidly, shucking my shoes off and heading straight for the stairs. She stepped in front of me, clicking her tongue.

"No. I have been sitting here worried sick for the past hour. How can you just disappear without a word?"

"I told Dad –"

"Do you understand how worried I've been?" she interrupted. "I have been calling everyone I can think of – Piper, your last therapist, the school, Jenna. Where on earth have you been?"

God, the CIA had nothing on my mother's surveillance. She had the whole town watching me.

"I was out," I said quietly.

"Yes, I gathered," she replied, frowning. She shook her head, waving her hands at me. "You can't just leave the house as you please! Out." She scoffed. "In my country, you do not leave the house without telling your parents where, when and who with. So, tell me Jasmine, out where?"

"Out as in out visiting Amber, Mom," I snapped.

Her eyes widened and I savoured it. I was sick of beating around the bush. I was sick of the silent glances, the vague 'are you okay's? I was tired of pretending. So, I stepped closer, curling my lip.

"It's November 18th, Mom," I continued, my blood hot in my veins. "Did you forget? Amber would've been eighteen today. I went to wish her a happy birthday."

She shifted uncomfortably beneath my gaze. We'd both fallen silent. All I could hear was the huffing of my breath. She stepped backwards, avoiding my eyes.

"I was worried, habibti. You understand."

"I know, Ma. You remind me every second of every day. I can't use the toilet without you praying for me."