Page 82 of Sweet Dandelion


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I had ended up confessing almost everything to Sage about the party and the cops coming. I conveniently left out the part of me thinking there was a shooter and Lachlan coming to my rescue but I felt better for being mostly honest. I used to tell him everything, but things changed after last year. He’s not just my brother anymore. He’s my guardian. It’s put a strain on the roles we normally play. I don’t blame him for being pissed at me. I would be too if the rolls were reversed, so I’ll take my punishment and not complain.

“How long are you grounded?”

“A month. I’m not allowed to go out on Friday nights or the weekend unless he goes with me. So, if you want to do something my brother will be chaperoning.”

Ansel snickers. “See you in a month, Meadows.” He tosses a wink my way. “I don’t have a death wish and something tells me your brother would kill me.” It’s quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds between us the scratching of charcoal pencils. “Do you guys have any plans for Thanksgiving?”

I shake my head. “No. Normally … normally Sage would’ve gone back ho—” I stop myself, “to Portland. We could go visit our grandparents, but he’s swamped with work so I doubt he’ll want to do that and neither of us cook. So, yeah.” I finish with a shrug.

Surprise floods me when Ansel says, “You guys could come to my house? I mean, I’d have to ask my mom first, but I don’t think she’d care. Especially once she hears you guys won’t be doing anything.”

“Halloween was Friday, how are we talking about Thanksgiving already?” I pinch the bridge of my nose, feeling a headache coming on.

“It’s the holiday season, Meadows. You’re not a Scrooge are you?”

“No,” I scoff. “Not usually anyway.”

I don’t tell him, but I spent last Thanksgiving in and out of it since I was being heavily sedated, Christmas too was spent in the hospital.

The twelfth is fast approaching. It’ll be a year since our mom passed. A year since the worst day of my life.

Dread settles upon my shoulders like a heavy blanket.

I’ve been avoiding thinking about that day. It’s been easier to push it to the recesses of my brain. I think to cope with it, in my brain it’s been a someday but it’s practically here. I can’t ignore it forever.

“You okay?” Ansel voices, bringing me out of my thoughts. He looks and sounds worried.

I nod, tucking a piece of light brown hair behind my ear. “Fine.” I move my hand and curse when I leave a smear on the paper from the side of my hand.

Without missing a beat Ansel passes me one of his round powerful erasers I’ve seen him use before. I take it with a grateful smile, erasing the mark from the page. I wish I could erase other things so easily.

“You can talk to me you know,” he says in a low murmur.

I’m surprised Mrs. Kline hasn’t yelled at us yet for our talking, but when I look over at her she’s occupied at her desk speaking with a student.

“I know.”

“I’m not sure you do.”

My head jerks to the right, giving him a funny look. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

He narrows his eerie pale blue eyes. His ultra long dark lashes fan against his high cheekbones. He looks around the room to make sure no one is eavesdropping. “You shared about what happened to you because you felt you had to. Not because you trusted me.” My lips part, a rebuttal ready, but he shakes his head to silence me. “That’s okay, trust is earned and I haven’t earned yours yet. We haven’t known each other long, but when you’re ready you can talk to me about anything. I’m not the judgmental type. I mean, my side gig is as a dealer. It’d be kind of hypocritical to judge, huh?”

I process his words and nod. “It’ll be a year on the twelfth.”

His face falls. It wasn’t the answer he was expecting. “Oh.”

I turn away from him, not wanting to stare at the blank look of his.

His fingers tap against the top of the table. I assume he’s searching for words to say, but that’s the thing, there are none. I angle my body away from him, focusing on my project. From the corner of my eye I see his head drop, a sigh of resignation echoing in his chest as he finally comes to the realization that he can’t say anything.

The rest of class is spent in silence between us. I hope he doesn’t take it personally, I’m not offended, I just don’t have anything more to say.

At lunch I’m not surprised when he tears into Sasha for leaving me. I’m also not surprised when she argues right back that he left me too. He says, “That was different. I was getting her water and she vanished on me.” Sasha simply replies with a condescending, “Mhmm.”

Seth, as per usual, says nothing. “Did you go to the party?” I ask him softly, letting the other two bicker.

“Yeah.”

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