Thirteen

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Light easily surpasses the poor barriers that are my flimsy curtains, but I'm awake anyway.

My alarm clock tells me that it's far too early to be awake, especially on a weekend, but I just can't fall back asleep, no matter how hard I try. Eventually, I drag myself out of bed and pad quietly through to the kitchen, sticking the kettle on to make myself a hot cup of coffee.

I smile gently at the thought of my father, who is probably doing the exact same thing as me right now, miles away in Ohio.

In the spirit of him, I sit down at the kitchen table with my coffee, picking up a newspaper from a few days ago.

My stomach lurches violently as memories of reading yesterday's article come rushing back to me, but I push those feelings back down quickly.

I don't even want to open that can of worms.

Not yet, anyway.

Unfortunately, my small bubble of peace doesn't last long. My phone vibrates on the table next to me, displaying another text from Seth.

Everything okay? I'm assuming we're still on for hanging out today? I've a few ideas in mind of places we could go!

The soup that my stomach's been reduced to bubbles sinisterly.

I stare at my phone screen for a long time, really unsure of how to reply. The last thing I want to do is go somewhere and be out in the public eye. If the paparazzi really have caught wind of us spending time together, I doubt we'd get away with it anymore.

Is it all right if we don't actually go anywhere? Feeling like just hanging out inside today. You're welcome to come to mine, if you'd like.

I groan at my own cowardice, but even the thought of going to his apartment has me squirming.

What if someone catches me?

I put my phone down and pick the paper up again, but the words just dance around on the page, deceiving my eyes.

My phone buzzes again.

Yeah, of course. Cool if I swing by around eleven? Can grab some stuff for lunch, if you want. I make a mean pea soup ;)

A small smile tugs at my mouth.

I wonder if he made his wife pea soup when she didn't want to go anywhere.

Alarmed at the way my thoughts are going, I sent him a quick message to say that sounds good and drain the last dregs from my coffee cup.

I take a lethargic shower, trying really hard to just breathe, something that seems to be abnormally difficult for me this morning.

By the time that I've finished, Rose is awake and in the kitchen.

'Hey,' she greets me softly as I walk into the kitchen, having changed into a pair of leggings and a jumper. I don't feel like making much of an effort today.

I return her greeting and put some bread in the toaster.

'Did you sleep well?'

I scoff, shaking my head. 'Hardly. You?'

'Yeah,' she quickly brushes it off. 'How are you feeling this morning? Are you okay?'

I shrug, tapping my hands on the counter-top while I wait for my bread to become toast. 'I don't really know,' I eventually admit honestly. 'I still haven't really processed everything. I just can't wrap my head around so many things, you know?'

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