In the wake of her father's death, Spencer Edwards' mother packs up their lives from Oxford, England, and moves them to the middle-of-nowhere Texas. With an agitation for agriculture, and a distaste for anything farming, the small town of Cherry Spr...
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Life is still life, whatever it pangs. - Charlotte Bronte
Chapter Song - Look After You by The Fray & Foolish One by Taylor Swift
The fields descend into darkness when we arrive to grandmas sleepy home. A midnight full of holes in the sky, as the glow of two homes sit as the only solid illumination around for a few kilometres.
Adele parks next to mum's car in grandmas driveway, the three of us trudging down the stone path and garden, and up the front porch steps. My keys dangle in my shaky hands, but I eventually stab the key in the hole and turn open the door.
It's even sleepier inside than outside. With mum and grandma awake on the couch, cuddled by an asleep Oliver and James. "Evening." I greet with a whisper, closing the door behind Kaylee and Adele once they're inside.
"Hey," mum smiles. "How was the pub?" She asks, and my throat congeals.
I hesitate. "It's was alright. Kaylee and Adele are sleeping over, is that all good?"
"Of course, honey." Grandma answers. "If you want a shower, there's extra towels in the hallway closet. And I'm sure Spencer will give you spare pyjamas to wear." She adds.
"Yep," I click my tongue. "Lets head upstairs." And making our way upstairs, I open the door and let the girls into my room. "Uh, I'll grab you guys some pyjamas. And if you want a shower, the bathroom is across the hall."
"I dibs a shower first." Kaylee says, and Adele groans.
"Do not use too much hot water." She tells Kaylee, and as I hand her some sleep shorts and a tank top, she heads into the bathroom.
"Towels are in the cupboard!" I call out.
"Yep!" She answers back.
Slumping onto my bed, Adele takes the spot next to me. "How are you feeling?" She asks.
I sigh. "Mixed emotions, I guess. Icky, mainly," I say to her honestly. "But I'll feel better once I've slept, doesn't help I'm a bit tired and have a beer in me, so."
"I get that. I always feel weird after nights out, even without the grimy guys," she tells me. "Can I tell you something?" She asks me, eyes holding sheer vulnerability.
"Go for it."
She lets out a big breath. "Am I stupid for still liking Ford? And am I stupid for not being able to get over him?" She asks. "I try, I really do try. Because I know he won't ever like me back, not after all this time. He's too hung up on other girls to see me like that." Her admission is said with exasperation, but dimness also.
I ponder over her words for a moment, hoping to say the right thing. "You're not stupid for liking a boy. Feelings just happen, and they can be nasty to get rid of," I say. "And you shouldn't think yourself lower cause he doesn't like you, I think you should think yourself higher because of that exact reason." I continue. "Ford isn't mature like you. Ford still seems pretty douchey, and I don't think his brain has caught up to realising what the important things are around him."
