Cold Hearted

Chapter Ten

"So, what's the deal with this Jasmine girl?" I asked Mrs. Sanders the next morning. It was Saturday. Mrs. Sanders worked over night tonight, but she said she trusted us not to get too crazy.

"Oh, dear I think I should let Everett tell you about her. That's not my place," she sighed, taking a sip of coffee. Everett had not woken up yet, which was a surprise considering he slept on his couch in his room.

I had taken his bed. I was expecting the guest room, but he invited me up to his room and we began counting paper cranes. I fell asleep around 150.

"Of course, but, do you think he'll get around to telling me? I mean, I know we're friends, but that just seems so personal that maybe he doesn't want to tell me himself?" I asked.

Mrs. Sanders smiled.

"Emma, I'm almost positive he'll tell you when he's ready. That boy's been through a lot, with his dad dying in a drunk driving accident. Everett drinks sometimes and I know he hates himself for it, but he still does. Even if he hates himself for telling you, he still will let you in," she said, staring out into the snow covered back yard from the bay window. The white blanket seemed like a blank canvas for the oddly colored house.

"I thought Everett's dad left? But I'm so sorry for your loss," I said, following her gaze.

"He did. But his death was a large event for both of us. That's why we moved here, among other reasons. But I just couldn't stand to stare at that stoplight anymore. And they let the man go. The man who hit him while he was walking across the street," she shook her head.

"He wasn't driving?"

"No, my husband never drank other than wine on his birthday and champagne on New Years," she chuckled.

I nodded, understanding why Everett was so distraught the other day in the bakery.

"Hey, what's for breakfast," Everett said, startling us both. He had a wide smile on his face, bigger than ever before, and then I heard sniffling.

I turned back to Mrs. Sanders who was wiping away tears while Everett pretended not to notice.

--

Everett's mom had left a little over an hour ago, and Everett and I had not said a word to each other since. I was downstairs watching television while he was upstairs, most likely on his computer.

It had been a gloomy afternoon. My pajamas were never removed, and my hair was still in a messy bun from this morning. No birds chirped outside due to the freshly packed snow.

The television was on low, and I was sprawled out across the couch when my phone began to ring. My hand slid along the velvety green sofa to my cell, and I peeked my eyes open at the caller I.D.

Mom.

I sat up quickly and took in a deep breath. I was ready. I knew she'd call, but I hadn't really thought of anything to say to her just yet. I bit my lip, my phone still playing a catchy tune on some key instrument.

Finally, I answered.

"Hello? Emma?" her voice came through. She sounded normal.

"Hi Mom, how are you?" I asked, and hoped it was the right thing to say.

"I'm fine, my friend Alicia was just telling me stories about her kids at work. She teaches the third grade now, you know," Mom said, and I instantly knew she wasn't getting any better.

"That's great Mom, but I asked if you were okay," I said slowly, trying not to sound demanding.

"Yes, I'm fine, where are you? I hear a TV," she said.