Hover

Chapter 3

Mom and Dad's car was in the driveway when I pulled in. When I stepped inside and lured my way into the kitchen, I wanted to cringe. It wasn't in anything that they did, or anything they ever said that made me this way, I was just born broken in this sense. I believe Adam was, too. The second he graduated, he grabbed his things and went; enrolled himself in the Academy, achieved an income, and used his savings to get an apartment right off the bat. He offered me to live with him, but that would be ridiculous. Sleeping on the coach every night? Yeah, right.

When my mother came to give me a kiss on the check, I jutted out my neck and waited for her to expose her love— or what was expected of her, at least. Nothing was reciprocated. It wasn't something she noticed. Neither did Dad.

"How was your trip?" I asked, shoving some cheese and crackers into my mouth that were left on the table.

Dad was chopping tomatoes at the island, averting his eyes from the television that was built into the fridge and the slicing knife between his fingers. "It was marvelous. Jerry and Kim decided to stay a little longer."

"I wish we could've too, darling," Mom said, stirring something delicious on the stove. "But we leave for the Bahama's Thursday night."

With a mouth-full of cheese, I muttered, "First day of school went great, thanks for asking."

"Did you see this, Deborah?" Dad asked, jerking his head to the TV. "Two went missing the other night. News is that they found the man that was missing last month dead, just a town over from us."

So this was what Adam was worried about. Though, this wasn't even in our town. Like what were the honest odds of anything happening to me or anyone in this town?

Mom sighed. "I heard. Such a tragedy. I blame this president of ours."

I eyed her from the counter, watching her stir so absentmindedly, her auburn hair catching in the light. For a moment, I forgot what color her eyes were—the shape of them; whether or not they were green when they glowed in the light. Did they look more like Adam's or mine? Half of me wanted to look, but the most important parts of me didn't care— the parts that made it imperative to know that I don't resemble either my parents in any way. (Though, I have my father's heart-shaped face and long eyelashes, but that's it.)

My face contorted naturally at her comment. "What's he got anything to do with it?"

"The way he lets things happen is despicable," she spat, violently stirring.

"Do you blame him for this empty refrigerator, too? It would make sense, wouldn't it?"

Dad leveled an accusatory stare at me. "Don't get smart with your mother that way, Ryann."

"Is Adam coming home for dinner?" I asked, getting a water.

Dad shook his head, and I noticed the gray specks peeking through his light hair. I knew they didn't talk much since he moved out, but he still came for dinner sometimes. I knew it was only because of Mom— Adam despised Dad. They never saw eye to eye, and I had to get the butt end of that crap for years.

The thing about my brother was that he was a genius. His intelligence was something that could scare you, and he wanted to be a cop? Yeah, the old man wasn't so proud of that. He wanted him to be a doctor, where he can make a difference. Let's just say, I think Adam became a cop just to piss my father off and give him a reason to hate him. Mom was something he was delicate with, though the last time he came here there was a fight between the both of them.