Sativa.

19. Sirens

Blaine dreamt of being an astronaut as a kid. An escapist, she wondered how to flee far from grim realities. What better way to isolate herself than launching millions of miles into the galaxy?

As she aged she grew more realistic. All that uneducated ambition tied down by logic and responsibilities. By twenty-three, the most daring career exploit she'll pursue is home-decorating.

For now Blaine works at the supermarket deli. The pathetic net she wears over her hair makes her head itch and serving chicken isn't what she wants to do with her life. It pays the bills. What a vicious cycle adulthood becomes.

The only upside is co-working with her sister. Tina has bad days and she keeps a secure distance. She was like that when they were younger too. Regardless, they share a picnic table every day at lunch.

For a month Travis's relationship with his own sister remained cryptic. Blaine wasn't told where she took refuge. He used to feel comfortable talking about Serenity, expressing his concern, and trying to help her however he could. Even then Blaine struggled to be supportive knowing first Serenity needed to want to help herself before anyone else could even try.

Yesterday, Travis returned home from work driving Serenity's car. His sister was back home and Brittney would be released into her custody later this month. All wonderful news until he revealed Hooter made the arrangements.

Asking how Hooter was capable of pulling those kind of strings turned into a bitter fight. She fell asleep on the couch watching Tv and missed Travis that morning before work. The unresolved confrontation festers in Blaine's gut like an infection.

The whole shift she messes up simple orders. Giving popcorn chicken instead of shrimp to her last customer. Once she's out from behind the counter, Blaine yanks the rough net from her head and her hair falls past her shoulders in a matted mess. Scalps aren't supposed to sweat but keeping her curls confined in the cap for hours builds up heat like an oven. She ties it back into a sloppy ponytail for the long bike ride home.

Her childhood dreams feel abstract now but it's better than falling two months behind on rent. Working at the deli kills the restless hours she used to spend alone at home. By the time she pedals all the way to the trailer park Travis is usually there waiting for her.

This evening she's anxious, wanting to see him but uncertain what to say when she does. As she pedals the bike down the sidewalk she doesn't see Serenity's car in front of their trailer.

Worry knots Blaine's insides. She can't help but think about their fight and how, at the time, it didn't seem so silly. Now that she can't remember all the words she wishes she hadn't slept on the couch.

Despite Travis's absence she handles the evening routinely. A number four blinking from the landline beckons from the entryway. She presses play and a robotic voicemail fills the house as she preps dinner. The first message from the cable company loops while she takes a roll of hamburger from the freezer. The next two from telemarketers are drowned out by whirring of the microwave.

"Hey," Serenity's voice echoes and Blaine pauses at the doorway to hear better. "Thought I would give you a call brother. Is your phone off again? Just wanted to say I'm doing good. We should have dinner some time, Blaine can come too."

Although the invitation is nice she can't help but roll her eyes. Even a friendly Serenity makes Blaine feel like she has to be granted permission to join Travis and his family. Considering they've dated over a year now she'd thought that stage would have passed.

Impatient, Blaine times herself with supper preparations. Fifteen minutes to defrost hamburger, eleven to boil spaghetti noodles, and a couple more to find tomato sauce in a bottom cabinet that should have been cleaned out months ago. She's just opened the jar she needs with a pop from the seal when Travis walks through the front door.