Remember

Chapter 9: The Big Brother

I keep quiet as Sawyer walks me straight into the kitchen.

He opens a cupboard, grabs a glass, then pulls a small pot from beneath the counter. Every movement is louder than necessary. Cabinets shut harder than they need to. The pot hits the stove with a sharp clang.

I flinch.

Clearly, he's still pissed.

He paces back and forth for a moment before pouring milk into the pot and turning on the stove.

What is he doing?

"Sit," he instructs curtly.

Not wanting to make him any angrier, I do as he says.

Although I'm still confused about why he's this upset in the first place.

He doesn't know me.

He doesn't care about me.

So why does he act like me running into the woods personally offended him?

I watch him stand by the stove. He runs his fingers roughly through his curls and lets out a long sigh.

I'm taking that as a sign that he's cooling down.

I finally gather enough courage to speak.

"Please tell me you saw what I saw."

He has to have seen it.

It was right there.

Sawyer turns his head slightly, acknowledging that I spoke, but doesn't answer. Instead, he pours the warm milk into the glass.

"Here," he says, setting it in front of me. "Drink this. It'll help you relax and fall asleep. Maybe then you'll stop seeing your stupid hallucinations."

He leans against the counter, folding his arms across his chest.

I grab the warm glass and glare at him.

"They're not hallucinations," I say with certainty. "And I know you saw it."

His green eyes meet mine.

"Opal, it's too fucking early for this."

"Stop calling me that," I whisper-yell.

"Hurry the hell up and drink the milk."

Neither of us looks away.

A full on glare war breaks out in the middle of his kitchen.

I'm not backing down.

"Of course you don't believe me," I whisper, eventually looking toward the floor. "Why would anyone believe me?"

The anger drains out of me almost as quickly as it came.

I give up.

Even if Sawyer did see something, he's clearly determined to deny it.

I hear him sigh again.

When I look up, his expression is softer.

Exhausted.

I suddenly remember that I'm standing in his house in the middle of the night after he had to chase me through the woods.

Maybe I should stop pushing.

I lift the glass and drink the milk without saying anything else.

Sawyer watches until I finish.

"I'm sorry," I mumble. "Night."

I don't wait for an answer.

I head back toward the room I'm staying in.