Sativa.

12. Serenity

Blaine has talked about her family dynamic and how it put her through hell. She sees the same anguish in Travis but, aside from a prior drug conviction, he's never shared much about his only living relative. An older sister named Sernity.

"I'm taking the car back to Serenity!" Travis's voice echoes from the back of their trailer-home.

"Supper will be in the oven when you get back!"

Blaine puts a homemade pasta in the oven as Travis joins her in the kitchen. She's tempted to straighten the ball cap he wears forward facing but always tilted up. Whenever she's tried to pull the hat down before he slaps her hand away with a nonchalant, "get your damn hand back."

Blaine leans in for a quick goodbye kiss but pauses when he says, "Should have waited on dinner."

"Why? It'll be ready when you get back."

"But I want you to go with me."

She retaliates at the invitation involuntarily. "Are-are you sure?" Blaine shakes her head. "I mean... why?"

That was as bad. Worse. A building anticipation to meet her boyfriend's sister has faltered her resolve. Even stuck between a wince and a smile he kisses Blaine's cheek like she hasn't done anything wrong.

"What do you mean why?"

"You never asked before. So I assumed..." On he verge of rambling Blaine trails off. She bites her lower lip to hide her confusion. "Let me just get my coat."

"Want me to put the pasta in the fridge for later?"

"Sure." She steps back from him slowly, convinced he'll change his mind. "Give me a few minutes to get ready."

Nonchalant, he replies with a goofy accent. "Alrighty-o matey."

Her smile feels thick like she's lacking the strength to turn her lips entirely upright. This side of Travis is a stranger. He's always been vague about his family until this evening. Blaine wears his Ride or Die hoody, less nervous when she can smell his cologne, and fixes her hair in a ponytail.

Travis is casual, in the kitchen making a sandwich. "You want a PBJ for the road?"

"I'm good."

"Tight. Let's roll then."

On the porch, Blaine fights to untangle a key lanyard from her pocket. After the break-in last month a deadbolt and third lock were installed on the front door. He'd even proposed putting metal bars over the window until she'd argued, "this is a home not a thug mansion."

Blaine turns on a hip-hop playlist to relax. As Travis drives she looses herself in thought. Unable to comprehend how he could be so unready then ready for her to meet his sister. Should she be anxious? Excited?

"Why haven't you asked me to meet Serenity before?"

She almost regrets the question when his lips narrow into a crease. "Mostly 'cause you're a stranger. She doesn't trust people knowing where she lives."

Blaine lights a cigarette, smoking nearly half it before she replies. "And now?"

"I've talked about you." Travis disarms her with a lopsided smile. "Often. You have nothing to worry about."

Allowing a smile, this one less artificial, Blaine asks, "Why would I be worried?"

"You seem nervous."

"Everyone gets nervous."

"Even you?" She retorts as quick as a back-hand.

"Even me."