Pretty Girls

CHAPTER 19

CHAPTER NINETEEN

IT FELT LIKE hours before the door to my bedroom clicked open. Occasionally, a few shouts came from inside that sounded like an argument but it always quietened down before I could press my ears against the door to eavesdrop.

Immediately after the door swung open, I could feel my lungs relax, breathing out deeply in relief when Apollo stepped out. At first, his face was sullen, jaw clenched and lips turned down in a frown. However, once he looked up and met my eyes, I could see his entire expression lighten up just the slightest.

"What did my mother say to you to make you look like that?" I asked with a teasing smile, taking a step closer towards him.

Apollo was just about to open his mouth to answer when my mother swiftly cut in, the sound of her footsteps heavy instead of the usual feather light.

"Just some tidbits here and there about life. Nothing for you to worry about," she answered with a smile, a hand placed on my shoulder as if to assert authority. "Why don't you get ready for dinner, sweetheart?"

"I should probably get going." Gesturing to the direction of the main door, Apollo was already beginning to turn on his heel before my mother called out, her voice sharp and authoritative.

"Actually, Apollo, you are welcome to join us for dinner. I might have a biased opinion about you but that doesn't mean that I am not willing to open up about my daughter's new blooming friendship. Maybe there is something there that I don't yet see in you."

Both Apollo and I were stunned, jaws hanging agape as we stared at my mother in bewilderment. After a few seconds of silence, Apollo was the first to break out of his trance, blinking rapidly. "Uh..." he stuttered, not knowing what to say. "Alright then, Mrs. Sinclair. If you insist."

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Seated in the car with my mother up front in the driver's seat had always been a frightful thing for me. Driving was a luxury that I had not experienced much as a child. More often than not, my parents would be too busy with work to bother about sending me to social and recreational events. It was only when things got serious would they take time off of their busy schedules. It was not that I blamed them but rather the fact that because of this, I associated my mother's driving with a trip down to the local hospital or clinic because someone got seriously injured or sick.

At this point, it didn't matter who. I only knew that it was happening again. And even when my mother was not driving us to the building that housed people who would take in their first breath and breathe their last, I still could not shake off the jitters that ran the course of my nerves.

Apollo must have noticed. Instead of sitting in the passenger's seat, both he and I were seated at the back, bodies separated by the divider of the middle seat in between us. Yet, it did not take him much effort to reach over and clasp my hand in his. The warmth of his palm against the back of my hand did miracles for my unreasonable nervousness, so much so that the ride was over before it even began for me.

I had to bite down on my bottom lip hard to draw myself into reality, especially when I felt my heart beginning to race in my chest. Whatever I was feeling was not a good sign and although my brain told me to pull my hand away from his comforting grasp and run in the opposite direction, the rest of my body could not obey.

"And here we are," my mother chimed, clueless to what was going on in the back seat. "And just on time. The reservation was for 7.30 and it just clocked 7.25. How fortunate."

I could barely even register what was happening from that point onwards. My mind seemed to be in a state of delirium and although my physical body was very much there at that dinner, it did not seem as though I had actually processed anything into my mind properly.