Unraveled

SYLVIA

You confided,
I listened.
Now, I confide in others
About you.
...

"Ew, what happened to your face?" Able asked as Sylvia entered the house. "And why're you coming in with the key?"

Sylvia put a finger to her lips, signaling her to be quiet. Able, of course, did not listen. Instead, she grinned widely and exclaimed, "Sylvia! How was college?" loud enough for the whole house to hear.

Naia emerged from the kitchen upon hearing Sylvia's name. She marched toward her, and Sylvia braced herself for a slap. To her astonishment—and Able's, who now stood with her mouth agape, Naia gently stroked Sylvia's injury with her thumb, concern filling her eyes.

"Amara called," she said softly.

Sylvia stood there, frozen, struggling to process the sudden shift in Naia's demeanor. Had someone died? A sharp pain flickered through her nose at Naia's touch, and Sylvia instinctively pulled back, wincing slightly.

"Oh," she finally managed, gently brushing Naia's hand away. She stifled a laugh as Able stormed off, muttering about unfair treatment.

Naia let out a weary sigh. "I'll deal with her later," she said, looking back at Sylvia. "You should freshen up and call Amara too—she wouldn't stop talking about how the principal wouldn't let her come with you and Oliver."
Sylvia gave a small smile and headed to her room, unsure of Naia's sudden gentleness but grateful for it.

After changing into her PJs, Sylvia collapsed onto her bed and unlocked her phone. Twenty-nine new messages and two missed calls from Oliver flooded the screen. He was a bit overbearing at times. She sighed, planning to reply later and called Amara instead.

For the next ten minutes, Sylvia listened as Amara vented about the unfairness of the principal. Suddenly, Amara paused, "How's your nose, by the way?" she asked.
"It's alright...kind of hurts, but you get used to it," she replied, even though she was practically dying with the pain and feeling blocked up.

"I'm so sorry, Sylvie—I didn't expect him to punch you. You were right, he is an asshole," she said.

A moment of silence followed before Amara said, "I'm going to dump him."

"I—you haven't already?" Sylvia asked, unsure of how to respond. She'd expected Amara to have already ended things.

A heavy sigh sounded on the other side of the line, "I was going to. I'd been thinking about it even before...this incident. But after the fight, he got tangled up with the teachers. I will do it tomorrow, I swear. I'll return his stuff as well—not that I have much," she said.

Sylvia paused, processing Amara's words. She knew this wasn't something to dwell on, but this wasn't like Amara at all. She would have instantly cut off anyone who spoke to—let alone hit Sylvia like that, from her life. And Sylvia would've done the same for her.

Not wanting to sour the mood further, Sylvia shifted the conversation to something more interesting—Zion. She told Amara about how they'd met and his background—although she didn't know much.

"He doesn't talk a lot. I mean, he does, but he's reserved," Sylvia said.

Amara laughed, "Pretty sure that will change in a month of being with you."
...
After her call with Amara, she laid on her bed, stomach growling. She headed for the kitchen hoping for something light to eat.

Naia was sitting on the counter, cookie jar in hand. Sylvia silently joined her, taking a cookie from the jar and biting into it.

"Why didn't you call me?" Naia asked softly. Sylvia glanced at her, noticing the vulnerability in her expression.

she shot her a puzzled look, unsure of what she meant.

"Today—you called Oliver, like you always do. Look, Sylvie, I know I can be a lot sometimes, but that's because mom isn't here. I do try my best—"

Sylvia's phone buzzed with another text from Oliver. She was tempted to ignore it, but he had helped her earlier. "Uh...I need to respond to this. It's Oliver," she said, sliding off the counter.
"You coming?"

Naia shook her head, "No, you go ahead."
....
After replying to thirty of Oliver's messages—all seemingly asking the same thing—she finally went to bed. Her thoughts drifted to the contrast between Oliver and Naia, despite both being 25. She realised she had been rude to Naia, as she often was. She resolved to ask her what she wanted to say tomorrow.
Exhausted by the day's events, she closed her eyes, hoping for a dreamless sleep.
...
Sylvia's alarm buzzed at 5:45 AM, startling her awake. She groaned and stretched out an arm to turn it off.
After freshening up, she made her bed and drew the curtains, letting the first light of dawn spill in.

She slid open her window and perched on the sill, gazing out at the serene view. The morning air was chill, just the right amount of crisp. The sky was a soft blend of pale pink and blue, hints of sunlight beginning to chase away the dark.

She hopped off the sill and made her way to the dining room. Able and Josh were still in bed. Naia sat at the table, licking peanut butter off a spoon, her hair messy and still in her PJs. It seemed like she'd been awake for a while.

"Why're you up so early?" she asked, scanning Sylvia, who looked fresh and alert.

"What do you mean? For college, obviously."

Naia stared at her, baffled. "You think you can go after yesterday's incident?" she asked.

"Why not? It actually doesn't hurt that bad—"

"Sylvie, you're suspended," Naia said, cutting her off.

Sylvia silently mouthed an 'O'  in realization.
...
It didn't seem like a good time to discuss last night, so she informed Naia of her plans and headed to Zion's house. She needed a change of pace.

Spending time with Zion was surprisingly refreshing. Since Jason, it had been only Amara and her or Oliver and her.

Zion could be spontaneous at times—silent yet intriguing.

When she returned home, she didn't do much besides patiently waiting for Amara to return from college. When she finally burst through the door, she rushed to Sylvia's side, urgency evident in her voice.

  "Erick's in the hospital!"
...
They were now at the hospital, sitting beside Erick, who lay on the bed, barely able to move.

"Wh-what happened?" Amara asked, her voice trembling at the sight of him. He'd suffered two fractures—an arm and a leg, five stitches on the head, and bruises all over.

Erick tried turning his neck to look at her but regretted it instantly, groaning in pain. He settled for eye movement.

"An accident," he replied, glaring at Sylvia, unsettling her.
Amara didn't seem to notice and continued asking him for the details.

"Three months," he said, replying to one of Amara's questions. "It will take me three months to heal completely."

Sylvia made her way to the door, unable to listen anymore. She felt Erick's eyes follow her every movement.
...
As Sylvia exited the room, her face pale with shock, she whipped out her phone, her  hands trembling. Amara had stayed behind to end things with Erick.

Sylvia knew what happened to Erick was no accident. She scrolled through her contacts,  stopping at OLIVER. A knot twisted in her stomach as dread washed over her. What had she done?  She pressed "call" and held the phone to her ear—voicemail.

"UGH!," she yelled, frustration boiling over as she kicked the wall, her breath coming in bursts. Why had she even mentioned his name? This was all her fault.

"SHHHH," came a stern voice from nearby snapping her out of her thoughts.

She inhaled deeply,the smell of medicines and antiseptic stinging her nostrils, amplifying her anxiety.

A text would have to suffice—
"We need to talk."
She hit send, her pulse quickening.
Oliver shouldn't have gone this far.