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Chapter 41: Rose

When I open my eyes the following morning, a deep moan escapes my lips. I sit up, sending waves of a splitting headache through my brain.

What the hell did I get myself into this time last night? I think. I only remember getting angry at Nathan and drinking like 40 shots with Evan. I probably drank much more than that, I certainly have before. I can even hold more liquor than Evan. Lots of practice.

I pull my hair out of the French braid Gwen obviously put in last night and notice that my hair is slightly damp. Geez. I must've been really drunk if I can't even remember how it got wet. I decide to leave my hair down for the day, which is actually something rare to see.

I look at the clock on my bedside on a nightstand. It's one in the afternoon. I just woke up.

I stumble out of my room and burst into the kitchen where everyone except Evan sits.

"Geez Rose, I didn't know you drink," Rowan teases. He attempts to lighten the mood with a smile and lighthearted comment.

I smile a little, but still unable to dismiss the awkwardness from our last incident. "Probably because the last time we spent time together was when I was thirteen."

"It'll stunt your growth. And you're already so short."

He laughs as my face reddens angrily and my gaze stares at the floor. Rowan knows that the best way to get to me is comment about my height.

"You know I'm not the short," I mumble. Small would be the better word for it. My frame is a bit smaller than most, but I'm not miniature.

I almost forget that Nathan's in the room, so it's not a surprise that his jaw tightens slightly from Rowan's teases. It may seem like flirting, but really, he's always done that.

Wait, was he flirting all this time?

Of course not. Don't be stupid.

"You could've killed yourself last night, Rose. Not smart. You need to be more responsible," Nathan says.

I smirk playfully. "C'mon, mom. I'm fine. Just a bad hangover. My friend Raven and I would--"

I stop, remembering that was in the town I destroyed. The town I spent working at a teashop and making close friends at for years. Gone. Raven is probably dead, and I was the one who killed her.

You killed her.

Dead.

You're a monster.

I swallow hard, but force myself to ignore it. I won't breakdown again. Enough of that. Not just for my sake, but for Nathan's too.

"Well, we're just glad that you're okay," Gwen cuts in with a smile.

"Thanks," I reply halfheartedly. I still don't exactly like Gwen.

Her face becomes lost in thought for a moment, but then lights up. "Oh! Almost forgot! While you were sleeping, bought you some new clothes. Not that yours is bad, but those girls you were staying with didn't exactly buy you travel worthy clothes."

Ugh. It's hard to completely dislike her because she's so nice, but almost too nice. Too perfect. And that's exactly why I distrust her. (Besides the fact she kissed my boyfriend).

Gwen hands me a bag and lays out three outfits because my hands are still trembling from my hangover.

"Thank you," I murmur much more graciously. I don't get gifts very often.

I glance at Nathan again and a devilish grin forms across my face. I hold up a green shirt, the shade of the Earth Kingdom. "When we win this war, I'll be wearing all red as FireLord."

"Right," Nathan mumbles uncomfortably.

"Why would you want to? The Fire Nation is terrible!" Rowan splutters.

"Not true. My father and the military of it is. I'm still Fire Nation, you know," I retort.

Rowan rolls his eyes. "You were born there, that's all. You'll always be Earth Kingdom to me."

The rest of the day is just laying around. Nathan says that we will be heading back on the road again tomorrow as we curl up under a blanket together and watch a movie. Funny, how Evan will be joining us when he's the very person who set us back last time. I still haven't forgiven him for stabbing me through both of the hands.

I fall asleep until dinner is ready, curled up in the crook of Nathan's arm. Just like it's supposed to be.

We eat dinner and Evan finally comes out of his room. He looks better, just tired and a bit dizzy.

"Hey Evan!" I call.

"What?" He snaps.

"I won the contest. You know, the one you said I wouldn't last 15 shots through."

He groans. "Shut up."

"You can't do that anymore, by the way," Nathan adds.

I just shrug. "Says who? Hah, it'd be funny to see my mom find out. She'd go crazy."

Rowan almost spits out his drink. "Wait, you have a mom!? Why the hell were you in that orphanage and foster home then?"

Huh. I guess I kept more things from Rowan than I thought. "Well, she's my biological mom. She's not my mom though. That one died."

Nathan tenses up at this, of course. He says I should be nicer to my mom, and thankful I have one. I guess it's because he lost his. But giving birth to someone doesn't automatically make you a mom, it's the person who actually cares and doesn't ditch their 6 year old little girls to spend a dreadful year with their insane dad. And make them run away and lose an arm and a leg, go through hell, find happiness, and go through even worse hell.

Off topic. Anyway, death isn't new to me. It's hard to feel sympathy to others when someone is lost for me because I've been surrounded by it my whole life. It hurts on the inside, but my face seems unable to register the pain that throbs inside.