3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Lacey

"No more kissing! It's time to leave."

Grabbing my brother's shirt, I have to physically drag him out the door when he tries to go back and give Trip another kiss goodbye. I swear, the amount of PDA these two perform on each other is enough to make a nun nauseous.

Wesley laughs, finally following me out the door, "Pop a chill pill, Lace. Your session doesn't start for another hour."

"You know I like to be there early."

He clasps his hands together in prayer, "Thou shall not miss the companionship of thou garden."

"Whatever, Shakespeare."

Holding back a laugh, I follow him out of the residence building and towards the parking lot. To make sure I have time to read and write a response to Skylar, I always make sure my therapy ride gets me there fifteen minutes early. Given my natural obsession with flora, it wasn't hard to convince Wesley that every week I needed the extra time to admire Karen's flower garden.

I'm not sure why I haven't told anyone about the sunshine tissues Skylar leaves me. Starting a friendship with another therapy patient is nothing to be ashamed of, and a part of me is proud of the progress I've made since our correspondence began. Skylar makes it so easy to open up that it finally feels like these therapy sessions are working.

I guess a part of me wants to keep Skylar to myself for a little while longer. This is the first friend I've made without Wesley or Nico's help, and I don't want to do anything that puts our newfound friendship in jeopardy.

"Lola, you sexy beast! It's been too long."

Wesley purrs as we approach the godawful car my brother inherited on his sixteenth birthday. The old Ford's bumper is hanging on by zip ties and there's duct tape holding most of the ceiling together, but that has never impaired Wesley's love for the vehicle.

Personally, I think Lola's a bitch. The few times I borrowed her, she did everything she could to make my life miserable. She even went as far as to release the parking brake the one time I decided to park on a hill.

After that panic-filled day, I stopped asking to drive my brother's rust bucket.

"She's uglier than the last time I saw her. "

Wesley gasps, "Don't listen to her, Lola. You're just as beautiful as the day I got you."

Using his sneaker to kick the door seal, he yanks the door handle until Lola pries herself open. I wince at the metallic screech, the rust flying off the door making me wish I was brave enough to ride the bus.

Wesley runs a loving hand over the dented roof, "Lola just needs some tough love to get going, that's all."

"Uh huh."

I wait for my brother to get in and kick open my passenger door from the inside. The handle nearly comes off in my hands when the door finally creaks open. I climb in with a smile.

"Don't say it." Wesley looks at me with pleading eyes, "Whatever you do, don't say it."

"Okay."

He sighs, "Thank you."

"Did you know they make cars that have working doors? Sometimes they even have keys that can lock the car from the outside."

Wesley groans and knocks his head against the steering wheel, "Every. Time."

I widen my eyes innocently, "Apparently there's even cars that start before you even get inside! Can you imagine?"

"Nope. I cannot imagine."

My brother winces as he turns the ignition and the car shudders beneath us. Nothing happens for a good ten seconds before the ancient beast roars to life and he jerks the gear stick into drive.

I can't help opening my mouth one more time as Lola groans her way out of the parking lot, "I heard there's even cars that can parallel park by themselves."

"I'm tuning you out now."

My heart is pounding with anticipation by the time we pull up to the nondescript building in Silverwood.

"Thanks for the ride. Love you, bye!"

I go racing out of the car the second we pull to a stop. My feet propel me along the gravel path towards the vibrant bellflowers running alongside Karen's front entrance.

Veering off the trail, I slow my vigorous pace and scan the beautiful garden for the unmistakable flash of yellow. Karen does a lovely job with her front garden, the bright flowers add a splash of colour to an otherwise bland backdrop, but I don't pay the flora any attention as I hunt for the sunshine tissue.

The usual hiding spot turns up empty and my heart starts to sink. Maybe this will be the week Skylar doesn't respond.

No. She wouldn't do that to me.

Refusing to give up, I drop to my knees and start pushing aside roots and fallen leaves, looking for another crack in the flower bed where Skylar always hides the tissues.

It has to be here .

It has to be.

Panic starts to replace my determination as my hands grow muddy and the damp grass starts to seep through my jeans. Tears start to build up and I desperately blink them away, refusing to believe that another person would let me down.

"Lacey? Are you alright?"

A warm hand touches my shoulder and I jerk away. The first tear that hits my cheek feels like a sign of defeat and it doesn't take long for more to follow.

"Lacey, what's wrong?" Karen peers at me, her concerned gaze bouncing from me to the mess I made of her garden, "Did you lose something?"

A hiccup escapes me as I hunch over, trying to protect myself from the outside world as the broken organ inside my chest starts to weep.

"Come on, dear. Let's get you inside and cleaned up."

I let Karen pull me to my feet and guide me towards the entrance. We walk through the small office that doubles as Karen's workstation and the cozy living room, but I don't register any of it as she gets me settled on the couch pushed up against the far wall.

Skylar abandoned me.

My only friend abandoned me.

Pressing my lips together to keep them from trembling, I cast a watery gaze over the living room that takes up one hour of my week, every week. The same grandfather clock chimes in the righthand corner and the same glass table separates the couch from the chair directly across from me. The box of sunshine tissues sits proudly on the table and my shoulders start to shake.

I'm just about to start sobbing when a yellow square catches my eye.

"What's that?"

I point towards the sunshine tissue that's lying on the side table next to Karen's chair. Adjusting her long, flowing skirt before sitting down, Karen gives me a light laugh.

"Oh, I found this tucked in my flower bed. I think someone must have lost it on the way out."

My heart stops as I register her words. Blinking until my vision clears, I clear my throat and try to keep my hopes from soaring.

"Can I have it?"

Karen blinks, "You want a used tissue? My dear, I don't think that's sanitary."

"I won't use it. I just want the message on it."

"Oh." Blinking a few more times, Karen shakes her head and gives me a warm smile, "Well, of course! We all need a little inspiration sometimes, don't we?"

I nod, "A special message can go a long way."

My damp jeans creak when I stand up and walk around to the side table. The quote of the day screams back at me in bold writing.

Every moment is a fresh beginning.

Holding my breath, I carefully lift it up and turn it around .

I'm not a pretty person, Lacey. I come from a family of angry men and as much as I wish I could say it skipped a generation, I can't. That's the real reason I'm here every Friday, talking to Karen.

A new onslaught of tears hit me as relief floods my veins. Clutching the tissue to my chest, my cheeks grow damp as I return to my spot on the couch.

"Thank you." I whisper the words and Karen looks at me in alarm.

"You can take as many tissues as you want, Lacey. There's no need to only take one."

I shake my head, feeling the ache in my chest slowly begin to fade.

"This is the one I want. Thank you."

Skylar

Something's missing.

I study the sketch in front of me, the sharp edges of the purple flowers drawing my attention to the garden that sits outside Karen's building. The overcast sky casts a shadow over the figure crouching in front of the garden.

Lightly running my pencil over the scene, I shade in the drizzle of rain to darken the sky.

"Are you still alive?" A sharp knock hits my door before Vector pokes his head inside, "Dinner is ready. Oh, and you're coming to my party tomorrow."

"I'll be down in a second. "

Tilting my sketchbook, I try and look at it from another angle.

"So, you'll be at BEATS tomorrow night?" Pushing his way inside, Vector comes up behind me, "New project?"

"No to the first question, yes to the second."

He sighs and drops onto my bed, "Stop being a buzzkill, Sky. Come out with the team tomorrow."

"I can't be a buzzkill if I don't go out."

Vector shoots me a glare, "You're an antagonistic bastard, you know that, right?"

Choosing not to answer, I return to the paper in front of me. My bed squeaks as Vector hauls himself back up and wanders over to annoy me.

"Come out with us tomorrow and I'll tell you what's missing."

I narrow my eyes at him, "How can you tell something's missing?"

Vector flashes his teeth, "Because I'm brilliant. Now, what are you going to do tomorrow?"

He's bluffing. I'm sure of it.

But if he's not…

"Fine. I'll go out with you tomorrow." My shoulders slump with defeat and Vector claps me on the back.

"That's what I like to hear." He points at my sketchbook, "It needs more colour. Add some more flowers but make them blue or something. Maybe yellow."

Yellow. That's it .

Reaching for my colour pencils, the rest of the world fades away as I add the simple blot of yellow that's become my favourite part of each week. The addition is so small and yet the boldness of the colour makes the whole piece come together.

Just like what Lacey does to me.

"Not what I was suggesting but I guess it works." Vector's voice jolts me out of my thoughts and I quickly put the sketchbook down.

"What time are we going out tomorrow?"

He raises a brow, "Look who's getting excited to go out like a normal person."

"More like I need time to prepare myself."

"Well, review how to socialize with people." He gives me a harsh look, "Don't do your usual sulking in the corner, Sky. It's embarrassing."

I shrug, "Now you know how I feel."

"You're fucking impossible." A glimmer of anger flashes through his eyes but it burns out before it can spark, "Find yourself a bitch to take home tomorrow and maybe it will snap you out of this funk."

I stare back at him, watching the tension roll through his body. My attention snags on the muscles straining against his t-shirt, making me think back to a time when life was darker but so much simpler.

"Don't talk about women like that." Standing up, I brush past him on my way to the door, "Mom's waiting. Let's go eat."

"Can you miss someone you've never met?"

I voice the question as I pass the clean dish to my mother. By the time we finished dinner, Vector had snuck off to hang out with his lacrosse buddies and left me to clean up his mess once again.

Amber tilts her head, "Is this a theoretical question or is there someone special you've been talking to?"

"Forget I asked."

"No! I love these types of questions. Makes me feel like a young person again." She winks and takes the plate from my hands, "I just love being nosy as well."

I glance over and take in the kind eyes sparkling back at me. My brother inherited her pale blue eyes, I got her cheekbones, but neither of us got her dark hair.

Sometimes I wonder whether it hurts, knowing that both her children took after the abusive man she married.

She gives me a gentle nudge on the shoulder, "I think everything depends on circumstances, but yes, I do believe it's possible to miss someone you've never met. Sometimes the most powerful connections come from strangers we meet once and never see again."

The thought puts a frown on my face.

"But that would mean I'll never stop missing her."

"Aha! I knew there was someone special." My mother grins, "Anyone I know? A girl from school, maybe? "

"No." I plunge my hands back into the soapy water, "And no more questions or I'm abandoning dish duty."

"You wouldn't hurt your mother like that."

She's teasing but the words are like a punch in the gut. Dropping my gaze to the dishes floating in the sink, I don't have to look at her smiling face to know what I'll see.

The bump on her nose from when my father broke it.

The scar on her upper lip from when he backhanded her.

The lines of scar tissue on her forearm from when she fell on broken glass.

And those are only the ones I've seen. Who knows how many scars my father left on her body over their ten-year marriage.

"Can I at least get a name?" Amber taps her scarred lip in thought, "How long have you been talking?"

"Mom. I said no more questions."

She laughs and throws her arms around me, "Okay, I'll stop for now. But if things get serious, promise you'll bring her home to meet me?"

I sigh, letting her pull me in for a hug, "Her name is Lacey. And I'll think about it."

"Ooh, what a pretty name."

It is a pretty name. One that I haven't been able to stop thinking about since she told me. I don't know anything about this girl besides the tidbit she shared on the tissues, but there's something special about her. Something different.

I just hope that when the time comes, she won't be disappointed with who I turn out to be .

Not a hero or a villain, but me.