𝘚𝘐𝘚𝘛𝘌𝘙| 𝘈𝘥𝘢𝘮 𝘉𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘴

13. Sunrise

Julie's words echoed in my head for the rest of my sleepless night.

'Cole very clearly has a thing for you, and both Scooter and Adam see it.'

'Cole has a thing for you.'

'Scooter and Adam see it.'

'Cole'

'Has'

'A Thing'

'For'

'YOU.'

The confusion kept me up all night.

Cole was Scooter's friend. He was like a big brother to me.

Was I missing something? Why did he like me? When did this happen?

I sighed, looking up to the clock on my nightstand from my makeshift bed in the floor next to Julie.

4:04

I quietly yawned, shifting so I could see my window. The sun wasn't up yet. I got up, trying my hardest to not wake up the sleeping Julie, and dragged the blanket behind me towards the balcony up the second set of stairs.

I climbed up the stairs, wrapping the thick cover around me and rubbing my eyes.

I noticed the doors to the balcony were open, and a figure was settled on the floor behind the railing.

I sat next to them, sharing the blanket.

I sat in silence with them, forgetting everything for a blissful moment, before the sun started rising.

The figure was Scooter. He stretched his hand over to grab mine, pulling me into his side.

We continued saying nothing, just enjoying watching the sunrise.

Moments like these were special to us as kids. When we were little, watching the sunrise was Scott's way of trying to keep me from hearing our parents fight. Him taking me out for ice cream or to the movies was his way of apologizing for not being able to stop the abuse we suffered when our father was home.
Scooter's overly affectionate brotherly love was his way of showing me someone loved me, and someone cared.

Scooter had been the target of our father for years by the time he was eight. Countless bruises and broken bones. When he started playing hockey, he was hardly ever home. I became the new target.

I was barely 6, when it was my turn. Scooter came
home one day in the middle of the most awful incident that had ever occurred in that house. He had to drag me to hockey with him the next day.

Scooter taught me how to skate, how to play hockey, and how to handle a puck.

Our grandparents had taken us to Disney the summer before I started middle school. I had just turned 12, and they had celebrated my birthday.

That was the last time I remember feeling okay, like nothing bad had ever happened. Like our father wasn't the man we knew him to be.

I blinked open my eyes, realizing I had fallen asleep on Scooter's shoulder.

"Hi." He whispered.

"Hi." I yawned.

"Sleep okay?" He pulled the cover off his shoulders, giving it back to me.

"Better." I nodded, blinking.

He nodded once before standing up and heading back inside.

I yawned, trying to stand and pick up the large blanket I had drug out here.

The sound of my footsteps was the only audible noise in the house as I made my way down the stairs to my room, dragging the blanket behind me.

I peeked in my room to see Julie still asleep on the floor, hair strewn around her head and her mouth slightly ajar as she slept peacefully.

I smiled, remembering the nights of sleep that were once that good.

I slowly walked back into my room before lying on my bed, wrapping myself in the blankets.

"Bunny." Scooter poked his head in my room, two mugs in his hands.

"Shhh, she's sleeping." I whispered, sitting up and pointing down at Julie.

He grinned to himself before coming in and handing me a mug.

"Hot chocolate?" I tilted my head to the side, inspecting the white cup.

"Extra marshmallows. Just like old times." He smiled softly, sitting next to me.

"Thanks Scooter." I took a sip, letting the warm liquid coat my throat.

We sat in more silence, drinking our hot chocolate. I grinned, closing my eyes. I remembered how our grandmother had used to make us hot chocolate when we would spend summers with them.

Hot chocolate wasn't a drink for just when you were cold. It was a drink when you needed to be reminded that everything was going to be okay. When everything wouldn't seem so hard anymore.

Nona, as we called our grandmother, was a kind woman. She was our mother's mother. She understood what our father had done, and insisted on pulling us out of that home whenever she could.

I missed her terribly. We hadn't seen her in a couple years due to my father threatening her at the last family Christmas. I missed my Nona. I missed her home, her clothes, the smell of the kitchen when she made us cookies, and I missed Papa. He was Nona's late husband. Our grandfather. Mother's father.

Papa would watch the sunrise with Scooter and me when we were little. He would bring us Nona's hot chocolate with extra marshmallows, that he swore we never had. Papa's secret. He's the reason Scooter is Scooter.

Papa had bought Scooter a scooter for his 5th birthday and Scott couldn't be pulled away from it. He most likely slept with it. When Scooter was 8, our father had gotten so mad, he had broken it. Scooter was heartbroken.

Scooter found hockey shortly after. He got really good really quick. When he first taught me everything, my mother was disappointed in me. She wanted a prissy girly girl who wore dresses and did ballet. I wore Scooter's old tees and baseballs caps and I played hockey.

When she enrolled me in cheerleading, I had no idea what it was. I had no idea my body could flip and bend in so many ways.

Enrolling me in cheerleading was my mothers way of getting what she wanted and keeping me from my father. In an odd way I appreciated the gesture, even if I don't like cheerleading.