//Tyler//
"How is she?" I shrugged my jacket off, focused on calming my breathing before letting a word leave me.
Josh suggested I left her alone once she had fallen asleep, forcing me out of her room and into the lounge downstairs. As much as it pained me to leave her, I knew she was better off alone for a little bit.
"Ty," I flinched as a hand gently grasped my arm, looking down at the small blonde girl in front of me.
"What?" Her wild blue eyes searched my face, worry ebbing as I stared at the wall behind her.
"Is Aria okay?" It was a question she asked earlier, though I was far too out of it to even comprehend the confusing words.
Is she okay?
"Y-yeah, yeah she's," I nodded, slipping out of her grasp, "she's okay." Jenna didn't seem fully convinced, my lie flying right over her head. She left it, though, offering a small smile that was anything but comforting.
Aria's words echoed through my head, forcing me to create a façade to convince Josh that I was okay when in fact I was far from it.
You have Jenna to hold if I ever end up dying.
The bitter smile Aria had dancing on her lips sent chills down my spine now that I thought about the fierceness in her eyes.
"How long have you known her?" I stared up at Jenna, whose eyes flared with curiosity. I slowly sat down on the sofa, running a hand through my hair.
"A week? Two? I don't know." She nodded, sitting on a recliner across from the sofa.
"She would babysit me when Mom would go out to work, and when Dad had business trips. She did that for six years until I was old enough to be on my own, but we still hang out all the time. She can be aggravating for a while, but she's actually a really broken kid on the flipside." Her words caught my attention.
"What do you mean she's a broken child? We all are, aren't we?" Shaking her head, she scooted closer to me.
"Her family, her childhood, her life, her mind. I'm surprised she's even here, Tyler. It-it's horrible." I stared at her, my question still unanswered.
"What do you mean by any of this, Jenna?" She bit her lip, closing her eyes as though pondering whether or not she should tell me. She suddenly got up, quietly closing the door that leads from the kitchen to the living room. She merely glanced at the stairs behind her before sitting beside me.
"Let's start with Aria. She simply appears to be this rebellious teenager, desperate for sex, right?" I nodded at her accurate description.
"She's not, is she?" My voice dropped as she shook her head.
"Not at all! Listen," she leant in closer to me, "I've been doing research on her thoughts and speech–don't tell her–but I've come to the conclusion that her own head is what's got her so messed up. Okay, so she's got chronic stress, and so far, I've seen it tear apart her relationship with her brother, Arlo. They were fine for the first few years when she'd babysit me, but now, it's all backfired. I can't quite figure out why though..." I zoned out as my gaze focused on someone behind her, standing at the bottom of the steps and staring directly at us.
He was dressed in a long, black trenchcoat, a grey suit peeking out from beneath it. His hair was slicked back in a messy manner, throwing off the professional appearance. I didn't need someone to tell me who he was. He shared the same cold, lonely green eyes with Aria.
"Arlo."
