The Boy Who Lives In My Garage > jariana (COMPLETED)

sixteen

The next morning, I wake to a headache worse than the average hangover. Probably a combination of the emotional breakdown at the party and the argument with Justin. Kayla's memory followed me into my dreams last night. More like a nightmare. I was there with Kayla on the day she died. The pills were in her hands, but I couldn't do anything to stop her. I screamed and cried and pleaded with her to stop, but it didn't work. She swallowed the pills with a smile on her face, and then I woke up crying.

Maybe a shower will help ease my headache and push the nightmare aside. While washing my hair, my mind drifts to Justin. It still doesn't seem right that he won't tell me what he's hiding. My secret could have been shared all along, I just didn't want to share it. With Justin, that doesn't seem to be the case. Maybe his secret is something he can't share. Maybe the suspicions that I've pushed aside were right. Maybe he's more dangerous than I've allowed myself to consider. I don't want to think about life without Justin. The problem is that he's making it hard to picture life with him, too.

Once I'm dressed, I decide to go for a walk. Clear my head. My parents are fans of exercise, and I can't get into much trouble on a walk, so I doubt they'll have a problem with it. When I get downstairs, Mom is ironing.

"Good morning," she says.

"Morning. Is it okay if I go for a walk?"

"To where?" Mom asks, smoothing the iron over a particularly wrinkled pair of pants.

Pulling on my fleece, I say, "Just want to get out of the house for a little while."

"I suppose that's okay," Mom says. "Just around the neighborhood, right?"

"Right."

She glances at the clock. "Be back in half an hour."

"Thanks."

Mom removes the pants from the ironing board and puts them on a hanger before grabbing one of Dad's dress shirts. My family is so domestic it's disgusting. I'm almost out of the room when my mom says, "Hey, Ariana?"

I know that tone. It's the "Mom is suspicious" tone. The "I'm going to have to lie" tone. I stop. Turn. "Yeah?"

"My alarm clock didn't go off last night for bed checks. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"No," I say, all wide-eyed innocence. "Really? I thought I heard you come in. Must have dreamed it."

Mom looks up from a wrinkle in the shirt long enough to study me. "Are you sure about that?"

Luckily, the days when I couldn't look my mom in the eye and tell a blatant lie are long gone. "Positive."

The iron hisses out a cloud of steam. Mom sighs. "I must have forgotten to set them. Enjoy your walk."

That was easy. As I step into the garage, I don't expect Justin to be there, which is why I nearly jump out of my skin when he is.

"Hey," he says, standing from his hiding spot.

"You scared the shit out of me," I say, one hand on my chest.

"Why?"

I fold my arms over my chest. "You're usually gone during the day." Plus, I kind of thought he would have bailed after our argument. For a while anyway.

He shrugs. "I wanted to talk to you. Where are you headed?"

"Going for a walk."

"Can I join you?"

I consider. As much as a conversation with Justin needs to happen, being out with him at night is one thing. Being out with him in the middle of the day is something completely different. "How about we just stay here and talk?" I ask, motioning toward the tarp and blankets.