Beautiful Disaster

Chapter Four

“Well why don’t we talk outside?” I suggested as I walked past my dad and stepped next to Sebastian.

Before I led Sebastian outside though, my dad handed me a brace for my ankle. I grabbed it as I led Sebastian to the side of our house where the gardens were while wondering when my dad had the time to grab the brace while answering the door.

Everything was silent as Sebastian and I walked along the cobblestone path through my favorite garden; the one my mom and I had planted before she died. We walked farther into the garden as I automatically went to my favorite spot; the Weeping Willow tree.

Sitting on the stone bench beneath the fronds we listened to the birds chirping and the bubbling stream before Sebastian broke the silence.

“Does your dad hit you?” he asked, staring at me intently.

“W-what are you t-talking about?” I stuttered. I wasn’t really surprised he had asked that. After all, I could see the way he had contemplated me when I came into view. I was surprised though that he had asked so bluntly.

Somehow his stare intensified as he gazed at me unflinchingly. “Don’t lie. I can see the bruises and you’ve been home for about five minutes.”

My eyes widened and I looked away from his unflinching gaze. Where was my confidence now? Why was I a stuttering fool? With those thoughts I straightened my spine and faked it for all I was worth.

“Of course my dad doesn’t hit me. I fell down the stairs” I retorted, staring straight into his eyes. I steadied my breathing and didn’t look away as he searched my gaze, remembering what my dad had taught me about lying.

He stared at me for an eternity, before looking out of the branches at the little stream running through the garden. I held in my sigh of relief as I relaxed slightly knowing that I would give myself away if I acted too relieved.

“I know your lying, I’m just not sure why,” he declared looking calmly at me. Before I could open my mouth to deny his claim though, he continued. “It doesn’t really matter though, seeing as it’s none of my business. I just came to return your wallet; you left it at the salon and Scarlett told me to return it. She also told me to apologize since apparently I was being rude to you; but I’m not going to,” he stated firmly, pulling my wallet out of his back pocket and holding it out for me to take.

Instead I looked at it as I tried to process what he had said.

“Wait, what?” was my brilliant response. He gave me an irritated look as he thrust my wallet at me.

“Honestly, how was that confusing?” he asked, irritated while sounding condescending. The first emotion he had showed since appearing on my doorstep was irritation; what did that tell me?

I scowled back at him as my earlier anger returned. “Don’t talk to me like that. I was just asking why you aren’t going to apologize,” I snapped.

“How was I talking to you?” he asked making me feel like I was five again.