Homewrecker

39 - 𝓯𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓷𝓭

"There are cuts all over my hands. I think someone's been playing rock, paper, scissors with me in my sleep." Ethan paused, almost thoughtfully. "But with the real objects, not just fingers."

I frowned, just barely glimpsing his hands out of the corner of my eye as he brought them up from his sides and turned his palms toward him, looking over the cuts that were apparently all over them. I was standing further away from him, tugging on my reflective vest around my shoulders instead of looking at him because I felt all too aware of him in that moment.

He looked normal, except for the cuts, evidently, but I felt anything but normal. I cried in front of him, like actually cried, not just tearful or upset, but sputtering and inconsolable. I told him things I hadn't even told Indie or Kingston, then hugged him.

I had planned to avoid him for the rest of the summer, considering that I was pretty sure that I had been fired from Starbright for missing my shift the night before, but then after dinner, I was about to head into the bedroom when Amy called out to me from the kitchen sink.

"Bronwyn? Don't you have to work tonight?" I hesitated, taking advantage of the fact that her back was still turned to me as she squirted dish soap over a dirtied casserole dish. She hadn't brought up what happened last night, or at least not that I left but, according to Jason, everyone thought I went to Starbright with Indie.

After she got back from her run and showered, though, she found me in the living room in the middle of a cable movie and asked if I was okay. I wasn't sure if she was talking about the argument between me and David, or the lie Jason told her about me having food poisoning, but either way, I told her that I was. She looked like she wanted to say more then, staring at me for a moment even after I looked back to the television, before eventually just asking what movie I was watching.

David had to go to the office, or at least that was what she told me later when at dinner, his chair was empty, and plates were arranged in front of each one except for his. I wasn't sure if that was something I believed, or if he was distancing himself from me again. Except the only way he knew to do it now was to go back to work, because I was there, in his house.

"Yeah," I finally mumbled after a moment, when she paused scrubbing the crusted sauce from the casserole pan to look over at me, her eyebrows raised. Within a few minutes, I was dressed in my uniform shirt and in the passenger seat beside Andi, who didn't look all that confused or surprised that I was getting into her car.

Maybe she overheard me talking to Amy and was anticipating the moment Sheila found me and asked what I was doing there, I was fired. But when she pulled in and Sheila was behind the counter when I went to clock in, she just waved and said she hoped I was feeling better.

Which was when Ethan approached me a few moments later, where we were stationed a few feet away from the ticket booth, with his unexpected statement about someone, seemingly, playing rock, paper, scissors with him in his sleep. Not only did I feel awkward and embarrassed, but now I was confused too. I felt even more confused when, after I didn't respond, he turned to me abruptly and glared.

"No, don't you do that," he warned, his voice startingly firm and scolding, like I had actually been doing something instead of just standing beside him. "You're retreating, like a turtle back into your emotional shell. Knock it off."

I shrugged, pretending like I didn't know what he was talking about. "I'm not doing that."

"Bull."

"It's not! I'm just not . . ."

He stared at me, deadpanned. "You're embarrassed because you admitted things that wouldn't have taken a genius to figure out, anyway. You were actually honest with someone out here for the first time in a way that wasn't out of anger, and that freaks you out. But you don't have to be. Freaked out, I mean."