"𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘱𝘦𝘴.. 𝘶𝘮, 𝘐 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯... 𝘸𝘦𝘣𝘴!"
"𝘐 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘮𝘦𝘢𝘯 𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴."
Amelia was raised on sweet tea and Sunday mornings, but after the untimely passing of her father, her family trades Texas wheat fields for...
┍━━━━ ∘◦ ✾ ◦∘ ━━━━┑ Preston's Got a Point ┕━━━━ ∘◦ ✾ ◦∘ ━━━━┙
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𖧷
Amelia nurses the plastic cup of her iced latte. Occasionally, the girl sips slowly from the straw, too reluctant to drink more than three gulps at a time.
She glances up from her coffee and glances at Beau, who brushes some golden blonde strands out of his grey eyes. His look is sunken, and he's long overdue for a haircut.
But Amelia knows that's not why his mood is so somber.
"Beau, I know we done came her for Gunner, who isn't here, but what's troublin' you?" Amelia leans forward, her coffee pushed away from her as her elbows slide against the glossed, wooden table.
Beau shakes his head as he stirs his straw in circles. "It's still Gunner. He's been down— more down than the rest of us, Meils. You ain't noticed?"
"Everyone grieves their own way. Pa's passin' took a toll on all of us." Amelia tries to comfort Beau, but as his brows hold a deep crease, one caused by an earthquake of emotion, it shows she paid him no ease. "There's six of us, ain't any of us gonna miss him the same."
Preston steals Amelia's coffee; he ordered a frappuccino knowing a small cafe would take a while to get that out, so he indulges in Amelia's vanilla latte until his drink is ready. As he returns the cup, he folds his hands under his chin and rests his head on them. "I gotta side with Amelia." He admits. "She's got it right, you two are the proof."
Both Amelia and Beau become dumbfounded as Preston points to them.
Amelia's face scrunches up before her eyes narrow on her twin. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Beau, you were the one who took over all dad's chores, from 'Ma's phycological viewpoint'-" he uses air quotes as he uses the words of his mother. "- it's your way of connecting with him while he's in heaven. And Amelia?"
"I swear Pres, if you say something witty..."
"Well I wasn't, now I just might-"
"Pres!"
"Fine, fine," he raises his hands up by his side as he retreats, easing up on his sister. "You, in my opinion, and observation, took it the worst, which is why you took it the best."
"That ain't makin no sense," the two older siblings unanimously comment.
Preston looks at them with dead set eyes before continuing his analysis. "I could tell you were mighty upset when you tried not to be— when you'd comfort us and encourage the bright side," he pauses. "that must've been rough, right?"
Amelia nods, but she can't help but feel pity for Gunner. He's still in the dark place all her siblings were pulled out of, he's stuck in there and he probably feels so alone. "Obviously it didn't work," she frowns. "Gunner ain't gettin' any better, and I ain't done nothin yet to help 'em."
