A/N: Oh my gosh, it's been close to a month since I last updated this. All I can say is that I'm sorry. Things have been sort of slow and crazy and just weird all together. 1: I haven't had any inspiration whatsoever for this story. 2: I started a new project and I've been throwing myself into it so I can possibly get it published. I haven't posted it on here, yet, but I will. 3: I graduate in a couple of days from high school, so things have been sort of crazy- emotion wise. A lot has happened and I just can't write, so I'm sorry. But I managed to get this done, even if it is sort of short. At this point I have no clue where The Out Crowd is going, but I have an idea. So I'm sorry if this sucks. I was planning on deleting this but I decided not to. Anyways, I'll stop talking now. Hope you enjoy.
-cass.
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{12}
I honestly had no idea why I was here, sitting in my car outside of David’s house. Every light in his oversized house was on, but it was only one that I hadn’t been able to look away from.
The curtains in his bedroom were drawn shut, a tall figure passed every so often, walking from one end of the room to another. In my hand I kept rotating my phone, unable to make up my mind.
His number was already dialed in, all that needed to be done was for me to press the call button. But I couldn’t get myself to do it, so instead I shut off my car and slipped out.
Pressing the doorbell, I had to pinch my thigh so I wouldn’t run away. A few seconds after I rang the bell, David’s mother opened the door. Her dark red hair was pulled up into an elegant bun, though her body was wrapped in a robe.
“Malia,” she gasped in shock. It had been a long while since I had last shown up on David’s doorstep. After the break-up there was no reason to go over anymore. And even though I missed David’s mother and the rest of his family, it would too weird to go over just to see them when I wasn’t with him anymore.
“Mrs. Carter,” I smiled weakly, my voice coming out in strange sections.
“Oh honey,” she sighed as she stepped forward and pulled me into a hug.
I was surprised, I hadn’t expected to be greeted in this manner. I had honestly thought she’d be cold and distant like she was with everyone else, yet this motherly greeting confused me.
I had broken her son’s heart. I was the bad guy. Why was she hugging me?
“I’m terribly sorry about your sister,” she mumbled into my ear.
Oh yeah. That’s why.
I pulled away, slightly uncomfortable all of a sudden.
“We tried to contact you,” she continued as she pulled me into the house and closed the door behind us. “But you never answered your phone.”
“I broke it,” I replied. “I had to get a new one.”
“How are you doing?” she asked as she pulled me into the kitchen. “Oh honey, we’ve missed you around here.”
Awkwardly taking a seat at the kitchen counter, I placed my keys and phone down and ran a hand through my hair. “Fine,” I replied.
“How’s your father doing?” she asked.
“Fine,” I replied. “We’re doing fine.”
I honestly hadn’t come to get interviewed. I hated being asked how I was doing. I hated to remember that my sister was dead. I hated the being told that they were sorry for my loss.
