What Rose Above

Two

Every time the soles of my feet hit the floor; my mother looked up. A silent warning shone in her glare. I muttered a sorry and quietly settled down on the opposing end of the couch, bowing my head. Her face was back in her book when I looked at her again, and her feet propped up.

She was tired of my pacing and I couldn't blame her. How long had it been, an hour? I tried not to do it but I couldn't help it. Christian hadn't responded to any of my texts and I was starting to grow anxious. What the hell was going on down there? I needed to know. There were a lot of police cars. A lot more than I'd ever witnessed traveling about in Lake Bellinor at once.

"Tyler, do you have something you want to talk to me about? You know, you can talk to me about anything, right?" My mother removed her reading glasses from her face, placing her book in her lap.

I didn't understand what she was insinuating until my right leg, bouncing at an abnormal speed, drew my attention. I swore under my breath then forced it to stop, folding my hands over my knees so it wouldn't start up again. Leave it to her to notice the smallest things.

"Ah no, I'm sorry, I'm sorry." I sighed. "I'm just waiting for Christian to message me back."

She frowned. "Are you sure that's all?"

"Yes, mom. I'm sure." I sent her a smile for assurance. Her lips twisted—a sign that she was going to argue with me on the matter—thankfully though, she let it go.

Since the last time her and my father saw the judge, she'd been more open with us. It was a little overwhelming at times but I tried to bear with it. After all, she won, so she was over the moon happy. They'd come to an agreement; Junior and I would stay in Lake Bellinor, while my father made sure to drag us to Pennsylvania for visits with him whenever he could.

Another thing she looked forward to were my therapy sessions. They were going well. My therapist had even suggested a few family sessions. It'd been a couple of months and those sessions hadn't occurred yet, but it was a work in progress.

"Tyler, I think your phone is ringing!" Junior called from upstairs.

"I'm coming, thanks!" I ran upstairs, nearly falling on my face. When I reached my room, I jumped across the bed, grabbing my phone.

"Hey, are you busy tonight?" was the first thing Christian asked.

"Uh, no?" I shrugged, as if he could see it.

"Pack your bags. I'm going to let Jennifer know you're spending the night at my apartment. I need your help." The exhaustion in his voice was concerning.

"What's going on? Does it have to do with"—I threw a glance back over my shoulders to make sure no one was listening from the hallway—"the incident I was asking about today?"

"Mhm-hmm. I'll explain when I pick you up. I'm on my way now." He hung up.

Twenty impatient minutes later, I waited on my bed, curiosity eating at me. My bag was packed and ready to go. Now all I needed was for Christian to show up. As if he could hear my thoughts, an engine roared in the distance. I jogged to the window, peeling the curtains back. Just as I thought, it was Christian dressed in casual clothing. The same kinds he wore to the station.

"Hi, Christian! I didn't know you were stopping by today." From mid-stair I could hear my mother's enthusiasm in her voice. I halted at the last step and there my mother stood, holding the front door open for Christian. He greeted her with a sincere smile on his face.

"I'm sorry, Jen. I know I usually call ahead of time." He worked his usual charm.

"It's fine, no worries." She shrugged. Christian nodded before his eyes wandered to me. They then traveled down to the bag in my hand.