Burned

Chapter Fifteen

My alarm clock plays, "Back to Black," by Amy Winehouse and I can't help but feel like it's an omen for this week. It's only Monday and I wish this week was over. The weekend was pretty miserable. It wasn't just because of the vision I had on Friday. It was a combination of everything.

Daniel hadn't talked to me all weekend. I figured he would ignore me Friday because for some reason he was mad at me. He still hadn't told me why he was mad. Saturday, I finally broke down and tried to call him. It went straight to voicemail, which I chalked up to a coincidence.

Except, when I tried him again, and again, and again -- not my proudest moment. Every time I called, it went straight to voicemail. He was ignoring me, which made me more nervous. I tried texting, but he didn't respond. I could tell that he had read them though, but that didn't help. 

I went from confused to sad to upset. 

By the time Sunday night came, I was furious. I wanted his head on a platter. I planned on marching up to him Monday at school and demanding he talk to me. It reminded me of when he first came back after living with his Cousins in Maine. I told myself I would never feel like this again, yet here I was. 

Daniel couldn't just decide when to talk to me and when to ignore me. We were dating -- this wasn't something casual. We both knew what we meant to each other. At least, I knew what Daniel meant to me, but when he ghosts me like this it makes me wonder. Does he really love me? 

These were the thoughts that circled my brain as I got ready. I barely paid any attention to what I was wearing. On my way out of my room, I caught sight of myself. I was wearing a floor-length black dress with a black oversized cardigan over the top. It was over seventy degrees outside, but I didn't have time to change. 

Instead, I grabbed my keys and went outside. Dara was waiting inside the car for me. When I yanked the door open, then slammed it shut, she gave me a funky look. I almost missed it because I was so deep in thought. I was trying to mentally prepare for my talk with Daniel. I thought of various scenarios and what I would say. 

"What's wrong?" Dara asked me. "You seem different." She added, picking up on my sour mood.

"Uh, nothing." I picked at my lip, peeling the dry skin off. 

"Something is, you're doing the lip thing." At the mention of my bad habit, my hand dropped from my mouth to the steering wheel. 

"Am not!"I exclaimed, embarrassed she caught me picking. 

"Are we really going to do this back and forth thing or are you just going to tell me?" She tilted her head to the side, waiting for me to say something. 

"It's really-

I stopped.

"I don't think I should talk about boy problems with my little sister." I half-laughed at the idea. Dara and I had gotten really close in the last seven months. Still, there were things older siblings didn't tell their younger siblings. This was one of those times that I would have to keep my mouth shut. Right?

"Oh come on! We're barely a year apart. Plus, let's not pretend like either one of us is a Virgin." The last part threw me off. Except, she was right -- about all of it. Dara and I were a little over thirteen months apart. That was barely any time at all. I was being ridiculous by not telling Dara.

"You're right," I said softly. "I forget sometimes how mature you are." I smile at her. 

"So, it's boy problems? Or problems with boys?" She wagged her eyebrows as she asked me this. It made me laugh.

"It's Daniel. He's been ignoring me. I don't know what I did, but I think he's mad at me." As I said this, I heard how desperate I sounded. 

"When was the last time you two talked and it was normal?" I stared at her, then we both busted up laughing. "You know what I mean: the last conversation you two had where you weren't questioning things." As bad as it was, I really had to think about this.