Two Worlds Distanced

Chapter 119

RACHEL

I opened up the drawer, shoved the envelope, and grabbed it. I quietly ran to the closet in the bedroom and hid it underneath the two cardboard boxes. I didn't bother putting them downstairs in the garage. They have been probably in here since moving in, and it doesn't seem real that I have been living here for almost three months. I hesitate at first, then rip the seal open, and it's talking about an internship at the new company in Colorado. I gasped because this was the biggest opportunity since coming to college, besides getting expected.

...

After looking at the transcript briefly, I put it back in the closet and returned to the living room. I glance at the living room, my mother is watching The Santa Clause, and Ezra is on his phone, texting someone, purposely his mother. He smiles. I miss that smile on his face, the smile where you can see the dimple on his left cheek, "What's that box on the counter?" he asks without looking up. My mother sees me and mouths out, "Are you okay?". I nod in hiding lies about my accident and my job offer; luckily, I'm wearing an oversized enough sweater to avoid the thousand-question game about why I have a case on and getting it off soon.

Ezra sits up, takes off his sweater, which suits him exceptionally well, and already tells me that my mother has her opinion set in her mind when her eyes go wide, and hearing a small gasp as seeing his tattooed arms, "Wow, you have a lot of tattoos. Why would you want to do something damaging to your skin?" she sarcastically asks, like it sounds almost insulting to ask that out of the blue.

"Mom!" I yell out, placing the box of videos on the table, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean it that way; I was only asking," she holds up her hands in defense. I can't believe she just said to his face. I actually feel stupid for thinking she would give him a chance. Still, I annoy the subject for now and continue looking at the box, "Your mother came over when you were on the phone and gave us this," I tell Ezra, whose looks like my mother just kicked the wind out of him and looks all pale more than a ghost itself.

He grabs a couple of tapes, starts looking at the names of each of them, then throws them back in the box, "I c-can't look at these," he sniffs, wiping an unexpected tear, and heads towards the bedroom. I'm about to chase after him, "Wait! Wait! What's going on?" my mother pulls my arm.

"It's about his sister."

"What does his sister have to do with those?" she points out the box, and her face just says the judgment all over, "I understand you don't like him because of his rude remarks or tattoos. I know we both know what happened, but it doesn't give you the right to judge him because those tapes are only memories he has of his deceased sister," I defend him with the pain my fingernails are causing my palms. It's a force of, a habit I have carried since I was little. I shake my head in disgust, "How?".

"How what?".

"I meant to ask how she passed?" she questioned, and I took a breath, "There was a house fire in his home when he was younger, and he was trying to save his sister, Skylar, but it was too late," I mentioned, look at my mother, and she doesn't say anything, "I'm going to checking on Ezra." I don't take a second to look at her before walking away, quietly opening the door, and it's pitch dark, then closing it, "Is he sleeping?" she asks.

I nod, "I'm going to bed," I grab Ezra's sweater from the couch, then go towards the bedroom.

"Goodnight, sweetheart," I hear my mother, and I don't acknowledge even to say it back.

...

While sleeping or trying to sleep, I continue thinking about the conversation between my mother and me. I never saw her act like that, even with Wyatt; the only time she actually yelled at him was when she was kicked out of the house after throwing up on her flowers after being hungover.

I feel Ezra moving back and forth, "Skylar," he whimpers. I sit up and shake his shoulders, "Shh, it's okay," rested my head on his chest, and his breathing goes rapidly, "I will be right back," I whisper as I get out to get a wet cloth to cool him off, "Please stay," he begs.

"Okay," I say, and run my finger through his hair until he falls asleep on my lap.