Silent Solitude

Chapter 3 - R

I had never been one to pry. I'd been raised by a mother who wanted peace and quiet, who occupied her eight-year-old son with crayons he was far too old for. My father was a stoic man, drinking himself to sleep most days.

There was only so much someone that age could learn from parents like mine.

Although, according to Indigo, I had grown out of my 'shell' and become more social. That was where I got my 'inner charm' from as she liked to say. Austin had strongly disagreed, saying that I had an attraction to broken people—quite obviously referring to our misfit group of friends—and that I could fix them, piece them back together.

So, when Indigo had told us during dinner one night that her best friend was flying from New York all the way to Nags Head, we were all surprised, to say the least. She had spoken only good things, something that we all as a group, admired about Indigo. She had the ability to see the good in everyone and push the bad aside, which in my opinion, led her to more often than not, be rather naive.

When I'd first met Indigo, she'd stuck her stubby toddler hand out and shook mine, prying it away from where I'd been clutching my shirt. As my self-declared best friend, she had done most of the talking for months. Granted, I hadn't warmed up to her easily, but nobody could resist the Indigo Levine charm. Her smile and laughter were unavoidable.

I trusted her with my life. I trusted all four of my friends with my life. We had created a timely routine that kept us all in check, some of us needed that more than others.

That was why when Josephine Cerrone entered our lives, I was disturbed.

Something about the dullness in her eyes irked me. They mirrored the exact expression that a year ago, would've been staring back at me.

A few weeks ago, Indigo had quietly explained to us that Josephine had had a rough time—to put it lightly—back in New York. She refused to give us details but told us to be nice to her and treat her well. We weren't going to deny Indigo her wish, she rarely asked us for anything.

"Roman?" Indigo's voice tugged me out of my thoughts. She had that effect, you always wanted to cling to every word she said. Perched on the armrest of the couch Leslie sat in, she stared at me. Leslie, with her feet curled under her, rolled her eyes at Austin's joke I'd missed.

I cleared my throat. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"Are you tired?" Indigo asked.

I wasn't, far from it really. I didn't sleep well, not in a long while. Though, Indigo probably assumed I was dozing off, given the time. "No," when she frowns at my blunt tone, I am quick to add. "Just got distracted is all."

"Is Josephine asleep?" Leslie asked, drinking the water from the bottle Indigo had given her in the car. She was the only one of us drunk, which wasn't uncommon, but I still worried nonetheless.

"She knocked out almost immediately," she paused before asking us all a question. "What do you guys think of her?" It wasn't an unexpected question, we all knew Indigo valued our opinions, but I'd seen how excited she'd been when she introduced us to Josephine. I didn't want to ruin that for her by accidentally saying something hurtful. Not that there was anything particularly negative to say about her friend.

To everyone's surprise, Austin spoke up "She seems sad."

There was silence after that. Nobody really knew how to reply to Austin's flat-out comments. It took careful training, to follow his train of thought. I was usually speaking the same language as him, and his mannerisms were a near extension of me, but I was distracted.

Leslie, as usual, gave it a go. "Ever the observer Austin. Care to explain?"

That earned a snort from Indigo, who smiled at her irritated tone.