𝐌𝐚𝐲𝐛𝐞 𝐓𝐨𝐝𝐚𝐲 (𝚂𝚊𝚕 𝙵𝚒𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚛)

Bye {Thirteen}

"If you lead I will follow,
A thousand miles away..."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I haven't told anyone about what happened. Part of me wants to, but honestly if I were to talk to anyone about it, I'd want it to be Sal.

It's been about two hours since the incident and I've had the opportunity to tell Ash, Larry, and even my parents about it but I haven't said a word.

Sal's dad had came home not long after I taught some Spanish to Larry.

Mr. Fisher is a nice man, but I can tell something is missing in his life. I can also tell that he makes up for the missing part of him with alcohol, as sad as it is to see.

He's sober when he cooks and idly chats with Sal, Larry, and I-- but there's a constant slur in his deep voice, one I know all too well. And I know that it's a result of a long addiction problem.

And suddenly I know why Sal doesn't feel at home.

He can't feel at home because while his father is here, his father isn't really here.

"So, let me guess where you're from, Emilie," Mr. Fisher says, sighing and staring into my soul in an attempt to decipher me. "You're southern. Louisiana, Alabama?"

I squint my eyes, looking right back at him. "A little higher."

"Kentucky? Tennessee?"

"Bingo. Last one is spot on," I smile, earning a proud chuckle from the man.

"What city? Memphis is one of my favorite spots," He says, taking a bite of the fantastic chicken parmesan he made and waiting on my answer.

"A little town called Sevierville," I say, "It's in the mountains, right by Gatlinburg-- which is my favorite place to go."

"Ah," Mr. Fisher nods in understanding. "I've never been but I've heard plenty of good things about that little town."

I nod, glancing at Sal who's only staring down at his plate and taking bites every once in a while. I focus on his dad again, "Yep. It's all fun and games until you try to find a cabin in the woods. If you have no experience with steep, winding roads in the mountains, it's a heart attack waiting to happen," I shiver at the memories of my parents' car sliding down mountains and the sheer panic making me jump out and onto the road. I'll never forget that.

Mr. Fisher laughs and we talk a little more about Tennessee and New Jersey until Sal gets brought into the mix.

"Sally, do you still want to make that dessert you were talking about all week?" His father asks, smiling softly at his son.

Sal doesn't look up for a second, but when he does he smiles back and says, "Not tonight, dad. I'm pretty tired."

"On a Saturday?"

"Yea," Sal chuckles. "I played guitar at the Belle house all day. And besides, after all of my tests yesterday, I'm just kind of exhausted. Can't think right," He mumbles the last bit, forcing me to have to hide the frown that so desperately wants to make its way onto my lips.

Clearly, we all had to leave after that. I kept telling Larry and Sal that I'd be fine walking home on my own, but Sal wasn't having it.

I'll give him props there-- he doesn't always want to talk, especially when things are awkward between us, but he's more worried about my safety than whatever's weird. He isn't petty, he cares.

Mr. Fisher was nice enough to toss his car keys to Sal, so here we are.

I'm silently sitting and Sal is silently driving.