Cold Hearted

Chapter Eight

"Her name was Jasmine, and I loved her," he began, not looking at me or anything really. He looked like he was staring at something no one else could see.

I stayed silent and he didn't say anything else.

Five or so minutes went by, and the dark room began to feel uncomfortable.

"Is that it?" I asked, and almost smacked my own forehead.

Of course not, idiot.

"No, but, I can't do this right now. I'm sorry, Emma," Everett sighed, releasing his gaze from the beyond and letting his head fall back onto the wall behind us.

He let out a long sigh and a small noise of frustration.

"It's okay," I encouraged, giving him a small smile even though he wasn't looking at me. His green eyes stayed fixed on the ceiling.

"I thought I could do it. I thought I was stronger," he said softly, and the air around us felt like a blanket. I could stay here and stare at him forever.

This mysterious boy.

"Everett-"

"Emma, can you sleep in the guest room tonight?" he asked suddenly, this time looking me in the eyes.

I nodded, but my mouth turned down into a frown. With that, I began to collect my things, and once I was out of Everett's room, he shut the door softly.

The dark hallway haunted me. Suddenly, I was very aware that it wasn't just Everett and I in the house. Danni and Rider slept just downstairs. Mrs. Sanders lay in her room.

My sock feet padded down the hallway. I didn't bother turning any lights on, seeing as Mrs. Sanders had a night light plugged into every outlet.

Why didn't I notice that before?

I reached the guest room, at the end of the hall. Inside felt like a hotel room. It wasn't nearly as comfortable as Everett's room. I couldn't bring myself to sleep, so I switched on the light and shut the door.

The bedspread was a dark blue color with grey stripes toward the foot of the bed. The rest of the furniture was colored like the house. There was a rose colored sitting chair, a brown side table, a black and white polka-dot lamp, burgundy shelves that held various books, and finally, the wall which was painted a golden color.

It somehow fit together, like a sunset. It just had a few odd-ball shades.

I fell into the rose sitting chair. It felt like a chair my grandmother would own. It was embroidered on the arms that twisted down like a throne.

Then, I got to thinking about this Jasmine.

What was so great about her? Other than the fact that she had pretty red hair and green eyes. She obviously made Everett pretty happy.

I wanted to groan in frustration, but I feared waking someone up. Jasmine wasn't all that great. I began to get frustrated that I didn't know why she was so important to Everett. Obviously, they were an item. And obviously, he loved her. 'Loved' being the key word. But those were all of the facts I had.

And what did she have to do with the paper cranes?

This time, I did let out a small angered sound, and immediately covered my mouth. After a moment of hearing no one stir, I took out my phone. I had one missed call from James. The clock said 1:26, so it would be pointless to call him back. It would have to wait until morning.

The black and white polka-dotted lamp provided only a small amount of light. I was sure it had seen its fair share of guests. Everything in Everett's house seemed so personal. I wondered why they picked the black and white lamp, or the green couch. Did Mrs. Sanders see it one day and think, 'I'd love to have that!' Or was it just something they needed so they bought the first one they saw?