Her life was far from perfect.
With an absent father, an alcoholic mother, and two younger siblings to take care of, Aurora never believed in an exemplary life for herself and therefore for others.
Everyone looked at her from their rose-colored gl...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
𖥔 ݁ ˖. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁୨୧. ݁ ˖. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ .𖥔
Convincing Liam to take Faith in his car and leaving me to go with Rory was easier than expected, but then again, Liam is Faith's lap dog by default. So after we make plans on where to meet once we're at the party, I proudly make my way towards Rory's car.
Beside me she's tense, it's so easy to note, every inch of her body is yelling uncertainty to this entire thing. "Are you not a fan of parties?" I ask, trying to ease whatever is nagging at her. When she looks up at me her eyes show me how distant she is. She was right next to me but she wasn't mentally present.
It was surreal how sometimes, looking at her frightened me; seeing my own reflection felt so disorienting. We all live in denial, wishing to escape our truths, overlooking any reflection to evade the reality of what lies beneath our skin. I frequently recognized what I ignored in the mirror, reflected in Aurora's eyes.
My question lingers, giving her time to gather her thoughts before she sniffles from the night's cool air. "I've never been to one." I frown. "What about your own? Haven't you had a birthday party before? Anything of that sort?" The silence that follows is like throttling a knife into my heart.
What the fuck?
Aurora looks ahead, acting as if she doesn't know where she's parked so she can put an end to the subject. It's painful uncovering ripped fragments of a soul, especially when they aren't yours but someone you'd do anything for.
Is that what I'd do for this girl? I was so frustratedly uncertain about how I felt about Aurora. There was a thin line between friends and burning the world for someone when it came to me. With Rory I was constantly dancing on the line, balancing on it and hoping I wouldn't accidentally tip over and land on one definite side of the spectrum.
I wanted to be her friend, but I also wanted her—all of her. But I had no clue if she'd be ready for a change so direct and so sudden, not only for her but also for me.
Once we've found Rory's car and settled into it, she turns the radio on, leaving no choice but to keep quiet. The radio playing in the enclosed space was such a slam in the face and a complete one-eighty from how we'd been last week. It was like taking one step forward and three steps backward.
She drives in an almost distant state all the way to the party, parking on the curb after struggling to find a spot with so many people flooding in. The engine of her car shuts off, and the only music playing is the muffled tunes from the house across the yard. Our soft breaths fill the silence.
"Hey," I coax, wanting her eyes to meet mine. "Rory look at me." You see the hesitation in her movement as she crosses her arms, looks from her window to me, and shrugs in a here manner. My blood boils, and not in anger at her, but in whatever keeps dragging her from the progression I make with her.
