Burned Ones

Chapter 23

Cameron.
16 years old.

I stood on the porch of the Martinez household in a new pair of pants and a shirt that I stole from two different stores because I was nervous and didn't want to show up in dirty clothes. I had never done this sort of thing before even though this wasn't a "thing" because Hannah and I had agreed we were just friends.

If I wasn't training to take over the Casey gang while planning to abandon that same gang and live a life off the radar, I wouldn't have wanted to be friends with Hannah. I would've wanted more in any way I could get it. I liked hearing her laughter and I liked how she always wanted to be in charge, whether it was picking what we did or walking down a path.

I wasn't sure if she wanted to be friends with me anymore. I wouldn't blame her, I passed out on our first non-date.

I adjusted my shirt, making sure it sat straight on my chest. It was already perfect but I didn't want to knock. I had actually been here in the neighborhood for twenty minutes but couldn't bring myself to walk up the house to the door until a moment ago. I adjusted my sleeve.

If I had to pick between knocking on the door in front of me or being on the training mat for twelve hours straight, I'd volunteer to do fourteen hours. I'd go out on runs all day with Scully, if only because I was familiar with it. I wondered what it said that I was more comfortable making another person bleed than meeting a parent.

I cleared my throat. I could do this.

The door swung open.

"Are you planning to come in some time this century?" Hannah asked.

I wrung my fingers together, cracking my knuckles. "Yes. Hi."

She rolled her eyes but there was a smile on her face as she opened the door fully and stepped to the side.

Hesitantly, I followed her in.

A delicate hand gripped my forearm and Hannah's eyes were stuck on me. "I'm sorry. I should've noticed you weren't alright."

"It's not your fault." I said, playing with the tip of my shirt sleeve because this wasn't something that I wanted to talk about. I shouldn't even be here. I was going to leave town soon so it wouldn't even matter if I wasn't able to see Hannah again by not showing up here. Maybe I could turn around and leave.

Hannah flicked the door shut behind me, her hand still on my arm. "I'm studying to be a doctor. I'm supposed to pay attention to stuff like starvation."

"I'm not starving," I said, eyes on the closed door and reminded myself for the ninth time that I was here to try to convince Mr. Martinez not to send a bill to my father.

Hannah tugged me forcefully into the house and away from the door.

The house was a grand and beautiful one from the inside but it didn't bother me. The Casey house was more, in every way. My dad didn't like to flash off the wealth the Casey's had with flashy things like clothing, jewelry, or cars. Instead, he invested it in the house where so many people resided. It was always well kept, cleaned, stocked, and furnished.

What was intimidating were the family photos on the wall, detailing Hannah's family. She had two siblings that were older than her. I caught a glimpse of a separate room and accomplishments lined the walls in frames. Degrees and certificates next to graduation photos. I wondered if they had ever had a high school drop out walk through their house.

I was quiet because I didn't know what Mr. Martinez had told Hannah. I didn't know if he wanted her to know what he'd seen on my chest.

I certainly didn't want her to know.