Chapter Seven: Quite Time |Scott|

The ride home, though my stomach lurched each time we hit a speed bump, was peaceful. I was with mom and that atmosphere follows her everywhere.

My mother was as taciturn as she was beautiful; and believe me she was very beautiful. Whether her beauty was the type that one could only appreciate when she was quiet, I can't say. But I can say the sun turned her eyes and hair into lakes of melted amber. Her skin, slightly tanned had no blemishes or marks. Dark circles made a home under her eyes, but those were there only to remind the world she was real and not a painting that belonged in a museum.

In the presence of my mom, I often felt inadequate.

I often heard comments of how much I take after her and, looking in the mirror, I saw where they came from. However, it was the air about her that completed Mom's aesthetic. An aura of tranquility and contentment followed her everywhere. It took all the beauty she had and amplified it by a thousand.

I knew I could never mimic that. That I would never be the person who makes a bad situation bearable just by being around.

Comparing me to my mother was an insult to the both of us.

My cheek brushed against my window; I let out I sigh. Mom ran a hand through my hair. She had said little since I got in the car, but I knew she wasn't angry or didn't care — she did. I knew from the way she her eyebrows knitted together when she saw me. When she sighed sighed after touching my forehead, and from the way she rubbed my back whenever we hit a red light.

Because she cared, I also knew I fight would ensue when dad got home from work. . My parents didn't fight often, but when they did, it was usually about me. Made me wonder what they fought about before I came along. Did they fight at all?

Seemed like a question worth asking at some point

***

|Rosette|

I went up to the roof after school as always, but I didn't stay long. Ever since my first talk with Scott, I'd grown to hate the chronic stillness about the roof that drew me too it. I loved the roof because it served as a quiet place to be alone with my thoughts, but I'd grown tired of my thoughts.

I had the entire day, and rest of myself to skimp through my thoughts.

The thought I convinced myself that I needed more time, seemed selfish and stupid.

"Now I can relate to extrovert problems—one of them anyway," I spoke to the air, almost expecting it to say something back.

I got none.

I reached into my backpack and pulled out my cigarettes and lighter. Only four remained. Being two years below the legal smoking age made getting my poison a difficult feat. Not so difficult to deter me from getting them, but difficult enough. Maybe that's why I couldn't go through a whole pack too quickly. I could credit myself-control if wanted, but I'm not that arrogant.

"They say it energizes extroverted types when they're around people they and lose that energy when alone."

I put a cigarette to my lips and touched the end with my lighter flame.

"Normally I'm the opposite, but I felt energized when I talked with Scott. And now he's not around I'm..."

I let a grey cloud escape my mouth.

"Lethargic."

For a while I watched the girl's soccer team below me, not thinking of anything in particular. I was far too drained to for that.

Ash fell over the railing and dispersed through the air like snow. I came to and reached for my backpack.

"Only one way to fix this." I pulled out my phone.

"I need to recharge."