Spring [Completed]

TWENTY-ONE

┌─────── ∘∘∘❁∘∘∘ ───────┐

CARA

└─────── ∘∘∘❁∘∘∘ ───────┘

angst
noun
1. a feeling of deep anxiety or dread.

"A single lie discovered is enough to create doubt in every truth expressed."

—Unknown

∘∘∘❁∘∘∘

I glance down at the blood type testing kit with apprehension as I study it in my hands. Do I really want to do this? Angst radiates off me in waves as I chew on my bottom lip and ponder the repercussions of finding out the truth about my alleged father.

My eyes snap to my closed bedroom door as two soft knocks thrum against it. Heart racing, I toss the box behind my back and shift in my position in bed. The door swings open without my approval, and I groan when I see the curly, redheaded girl standing in the entryway.

"Hey, Car," Demi says, entering the room carrying two shoe boxes. "You busy?" she asks as she drops them in front of me and places her hands on her hips. Demi cocks her head to the side, losing focus as she stares at something behind me. "What's that?"

I glance down at my side at the box slightly peeking out from behind me, before shifting and obscuring her view. "Nothing," I say shortly. "Now, what do you want?" I raise a brow as she stares at me, curiosity shining in her chocolate colored eyes.

"It doesn't look like nothing..." She teases, a grin forming on her face as she rocks on her heels and tries to slyly peer around me.

I roll my eyes, ready to snap on her for wasting my time. "Demi—"

"Okay. Okay." She holds her hands up in surrender. Tucking her hands into the pockets of her gym shorts she mumbles. "If you wanna be secretive, that's on you..."

Frowning, I glare at her unamused.

"Anyways." She studies my room as she speaks, fiddling with pens on my desk. "I wanted to ask you which pair of shoes you think I could run the fastest in." She pulls out my desk chair and plops down into it before continuing. "Let me give you some backstory—"

"Oh, please do," I quip, to which she rolls her eyes.

"Gracie and I were playing together during recess and Campbell Murphy and Seth said that boys are faster than girls." She pauses, clearly annoyed by my feigned gasp. "Anyways, I told him he was wrong, and that although men and women as adults have their own strengths and weaknesses, boys and girls are on equal playing fields. Obviously he challenged me to a race, but I didn't accept because I was wearing sandals, and everyone knows you can't race in sandals. You'll scuff them up and get dirt all up under your toenails—"

"Kid," I cut her off and she looks at me breathlessly. She sure is passionate about this elementary school rivalry. "You're rambling. I need less words and more reason to care."

"Sorry." She nods, taking a deep breath and gathering her thoughts. I watch with an amused expression as she closes her eyes and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. "Okay." She stands from her seat and makes her way to the shoe boxes at my feet. Sitting on her knees, she opens each box and grabs a shoe for me to examine. "Which one?" She asks.