The Scars That Broke Her

Chapter 3

I woke the next morning to the smell of bacon filling my nose. It was a smoky smell that felt familiar, yet one that I haven't smelled in a long time. My mother was the one who always made bacon for breakfast. After she was arrested, bacon was just an unwanted memory of what life used to be. I lay for a second longer, soaking in the comforting smell, before swinging my legs over the side of the bed. A yawn escaped my lips as my eyes adjusted to the light escaping through my curtains. Pressing my feet onto the cool, hardwood floor, I stood, making my way toward my dresser.

I was not looking forward to school today. Starting over in a new house and living with my brother was hard enough, now we had to add hormonal and bitchy teenagers to the mess as well. Not to mention teachers whose expectations are way too high. I was already on edge from my confrontation with Cale last night, if someone so much as looks at me the wrong way today...I'm going to snap.

I pulled out a pair of blue jeans from my dresser and a white shirt. A simple, yet cute outfit. Cuffing my jeans at the bottom, I stood up, glancing at myself in the gold mirror. My fingers ran over the wrinkles on my shirt, smoothing them out. I tilted my head as I looked at myself. My blond hair wrapped in small waves framing my face. They fell naturally over my forehead, nearly hiding the scar just below my hairline completely. My bright blue eyes, which were a shade lighter than my brothers', looked tired and worn, with faint bags beneath them. I opted for a coat of mascara, to help make myself look less tired...I'm not sure if it worked.

I sighed; in this light I looked like my mother. You know...before drugs took over her life. I frowned, scrunching my nose. My stomach churned at the comparison. It wasn't until my mother was arrested that I hated looking like her. Now every time I look in the mirror all I'm left with are sad memories I have locked away in the back of my mind. I shook my head, snapping out of my thoughts. I reached down, sliding my feet into my tan Timberland boots. I allowed the cuffed hems of my pants to hang at my ankles, meeting the top of my boots. Then, I quickly reached for my backpack and darted out of my room.

I walked down the stairs and into the foyer. I silently cursed to myself as I saw Cale in the kitchen, back toward me, whistling as he flipped something over on the stove. I quickly glanced around, praying that Tate was in the living room or dining room. No such luck. I hesitated, considering my choices. I know I told Tate I would apologize to Cale, but I just wasn't exactly sure how. I knew I was out of line, I knew that...I just didn't know what to say to Cale.

"You can sit down you know." Cale said, his back still to me.

Shit, I forgot I was still standing in the middle of the room. I must have looked lost. Not that there was much for me to get lost from. Cale's house, my house now I guess, was pretty straight forward. When you walked in the front door, you walked directly into an open concept. The kitchen, dining room, and living room were all in one big room with the stairs to the upstairs in the middle. I walked over to the island that separates the kitchen from the living room. Dropping my bag to the floor beneath my feet, I sat down on a tall stool. My feet hung a few feet from the floor, dangling as I sat anxiously on the stool.

"How did you sleep?" Cale asked casually. He turned around setting a plate of bacon and eggs in front of me. His eyes swept over me, taking in my appearance.

I shrugged, picking up a piece of bacon. "Decent." Though, that was mostly a lie. Ever since I found my father, my dreams have been plagued with the memories of his death. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw it over and over again...his body...I snapped my rubber band distracting my brain from the thoughts.

"I'm glad." He gave me a small smile before turning back around to face the stove.

I took a bite of my bacon as I watched my brother place another serving of eggs and bacon on a plate. He picked up the pan he was using and walked half a step over to the sink.