Displaced

Timber - Forty-Five

The tension was so thick I could cut it with a knife. Worst of all, Lara noticed it too. She kept looking between me and Chevelle as we ate dinner in complete and total silence. Every bite was agonizing for me, especially under Lara's stare.

Once her plate was clean, she didn't leave either, just watched. "Why are you fighting?"

"We're not fighting," Chevelle mumbled.

"You're a bad liar. I know you are. My parents do this every time they fight. Now you're doing it too."

I didn't want to lie to her, but what was I supposed to say to that? "We're not agreeing on some things. That's all. I don't particularly have anything new to say, so I'm choosing to just not say anything."

"Can you please not fight?" Lara begged. "Because I like you guys and I don't want to lose you too."

"I don't want to fight with her, but she needs to listen to me," I mumbled.

Chevelle rolled her eyes, per usual. "He needs to stop being so...frustrating."

"I'm doing this thing with Paul with or without your permission. And it has nothing to do with making a sacrifice or whatever. I'd think you'd be jumping at the chance to save your friend!"

"I am! But I'm not sure I'm ready to see him again either," she said.

This time I rolled my eyes. "Why? You're so confusing, seriously."

"Because he said he loved me! I don't know how to handle that! What if he thinks my finding him is some kind of marriage proposal?"

I laughed, and probably a lot harder than needed, but I couldn't help it. The idea was ridiculous. "That's your hang up? You have weird priorities."

"I have other ones."

"Stop psyching yourself out! You either want to help him or you don't."

"I do."

"So let's make this happen, then. I'll talk to Paul, we can arrange a meeting, everything is going to be fine."

She grabbed at the hair framing her face. "Why do you have to be so positive all the darn time? How do you know it's all going to be okay?"

"Because it has to be." Why did I even have to explain myself to her in the first place? Was it so crazy to have even an ounce of hope? If everyone had a crappy attitude, then I'm pretty sure nothing would be accomplished in the world.

Chevelle and I locked gazes. I was ready for a fight, ready to defend my beliefs if needed. She did the most unexpected thing; she smiled. "You're probably right. If all good things must come to an end, then all bad ones need to too, right?"

"Exactly!" I exhaled a breath I hadn't even realized I was holding.

She began to collect the dirty dishes around the table. Something she'd been doing often. Back home I'd probably protest, but she did say she wanted to be useful. If I cooked, she could clean up after it. Then things might start evening out and she'd stop leaping for my throat every day.

"I'm still not sure how I feel about you working for Paul," she said from the kitchen. The sink started to run as she rinsed the dishes. "I trust you, but I'm not sure how much I trust him. Something about him seems off. You notice how every time he talks about the Achlivans he includes himself as one of them?"

I had noticed. I didn't know how to respond.

"Just don't be like him," Lara said quietly.

I glanced over at her. "Hmm?"

Lara gave me a tiny smile. "I like Paul. He's nice. But don't be like him. Always be you, Timber, because I like you most." She got out of her chair and hugged me close.

"I'll always be me, I promise."

"Good, and I think you should do it because you're fun to hang out with. People will like you a lot."

I laughed. "That's what Paul was saying."

"Don't lose sight of home," Chevelle added.

"I won't," I said. I was too afraid of forgetting.