Let Me Explain

T W E N T Y S I X

LEAVING my car keys on the desk in my dad's office was a faulty mistake.

Morality had been established in me ever since I was young. Only thing that had changed was the fact that I was okay with going against what was right.

It was my first car and I missed it.

I was also tired of being at home and needed a scenery change.

I parked my car on the side of the street by the house and turned it off afterwards. Taking off my seatbelt, I took my keys out of the ignition and stepped out of my car.

I held the keys on my left hand while I walked up the driveway, heading towards the front door. It would be a crime if my parents had found out I was over here, but I couldn't make myself care anymore.

I felt like a hostage locked up in the house all the time. The thing was, I hardly did anything to deserve that significant punishment.

Lifting my right hand, I knocked on the front door and waited for someone to open it. The cold air, breezed by, lightly reminding me that I should've choose something warmer to wear.

The door unlocked before opening a second later. Weston became visible, standing at the other side of the door while she looked at me.

Her black hair was resting behind her back and she wore a hoodie that hid her shorts but revealed her white socks. She was looking at me, but she wasn't truly focused. It seemed like something occupied her mind.

"Hey," My fingertips messed with the keys. "I escaped from prison."

Her features changed once she freed her mind and began to fully allow her attention to settle in on me. She wasn't noticeably upset or anything, but she had a look on her face that made me question her.

"What?" My brows threaded together after a beat of silence. Her demeanor was throwing me off and equally confusing me.

She pressed her lips together and looked away from me. "Don't be mad at me."

"What?"

Weston chose not to respond to me. Her expression remained neutral once she brought her gaze back to me.

There wasn't a lot of things that Weston could do that would make me upset. That was why it was hard for me to figure out what she was referring to.

"Okay," I stepped inside the house, carefully watching her. "Talk to me when you're in a better mood."

I changed my attention from her and walked over to the staircase. My hand slid along the railing while I went up the left side.

It had been so long since I had been in this house. It started to feel more like a home than my own had ever been.

I reached the top of the staircase and walked down the long hallway. The lighting was dim, but it was well enough to see. Even if it had been dark upstairs, the place was familiar enough for me to get around.

Almost instantly, I paused, coming to a full stop when I noticed someone coming out of Easton's room.

I recognized the red USC hoodie that she wore. It was the same exact one that Easton had worn the night before.

It covered her up, barely showing the pair of shorts that she wore underneath. Her brown hair was messy, holding slightly tangles while it hung over her shoulders.