Trust Me

Chapter 7

Trust me Chapter 7

This can’t be happening.

I felt empty, like I did two days ago. When I saw Sam, all I could think of was Nick, when I looked at Alex all I thought of was Nick. I needed them gone.

Sam was trying to hold our exchanged glances, but I focused my attention to the ground, I was unable to focus when I looked at him.

“I changed my mind, I want to be alone.” I told them honestly, I continued to look at the floor, I wouldn’t be able to confess this to them if I was starring right at them.

“Are you sure about that?” Alex asked concerned. I didn’t look up at him, I focused on the ground. I felt a hot tear trickle down my cheek. I wiped it off quickly, trying to show I wasn’t weak.

“I think we should go, it was a bad idea coming here.” Sam said concerned. I nodded in agreement with Sam. They walked past me to go the back door, as they did this; Alex’s hand quickly brushed mine. I felt guilty that I let them come in, I walked to the back door to say goodbye.

Alex was gone but Sam was just out of the door, still an arm’s length away.

“Wait.” I called out, Sam turned around quickly, his eyes huge and full of fear, worry. “Thanks for coming anyways. I’m sorry I just, I really-”

Sam cut me off, “No it’s alright; I get it.” He sounded annoyed and tired. Like I was the one annoying him, like I was the problem.

“What’s that suppose to mean?” I asked confused; hurt, betrayed.

He looked at me, he was thinking through what he was going to say, and when he said it I couldn’t tell if he saying the honest truth or lying. “Nothing, just never mind.” He stormed off the back deck and went around the house where the driveway was. I heard a car engine start and then I heard it drive off.

I remained outside. I could hear the whispers of people from out front, I could hear the lies coming out of the reporters mouths, and I could hear everything but the thing that mattered the most myself.

I knew better then to be out here listening to the paparazzi, trying to figure out ways of getting the five thousand dollar picture, I knew better than to be listening to reporters point the finger at me. I needed to prove them wrong, I needed to show them it wasn’t me. That’s when I got the idea.

I need to go back.

I need to figure out who did this to my brother, prove to everyone, it wasn’t me. And to do this for Nick.

Quickly, I left the back deck, opened the screen door to find my parents.

“Dad, mom!” I called out from the kitchen. I heard them walking around upstairs. I left the kitchen to join them by Nick’s room.

When I met them, the first thing I noticed was my mother; crying. My fathers hand was on the door knob of Nick’s room. I didn’t want to go in there, not now it is too soon, too soon to face Nick.

“I need to talk to you guys.” I told them softly, my father gave me the not-now look, but I ignored it. Mom nodded her head and blew her nose in her tissue. I went down the stair case before them, giving them some time to prepare what I am going to suggest. Me leaving.

“What is this all about?” My father asked irked as he sat down on the leather sofa across from me, I took a deep breath.

“I need to leave.” I blurted out. My parent looked at me, just started. I continued, “I can’t deal with all this, the media being everywhere, dad’s new job. It’s too much.” I pushed back that feeling you get before you start to cry, I couldn’t stare at my parents any longer, I put my attention to the floor.