Fourteen by C.M. Smith (short story to read .txt) 📕

looked at the time. Estimating I had about five extra minutes of freedom, I started down the street.

Mr. and Mrs. Forrester were upper-class business owners that put entirely too much faith in their youngest son. They owned a successful construction company and often went into the city on the weekends to visit family for some reason or another, leaving him full reign over the white, two-story house in the middle of town. I was absolutely amazed that word had never gotten back to them about the chaos that surrounded this house whenever they weren’t around, but figured that his laid-back uncle—a cop—was able to keep it under wraps for him.

I slowed down as I got to his house, noticing that his old Buick—the one his brother had beat to shit before handing it down to Steve when he got a brand new one courtesy of Mommy and Daddy Forrester—was still sitting in the driveway with a For Sale sign in the window.

I turned around and started back in the direction of my house, breathed in the fresh air, and tried to relax.

I slowly opened my eyes the next morning and looked around my bedroom, almost afraid that if I moved too much, something would shift and my world would come crashing down around me. I didn’t sleep very well last night, every single scenario running through my mind and making me crazy to the point where I’d actually started talking to myself and thinking that I should’ve taken Kyle up on his offer to sneak me out of the house.

He needed an excuse to use the ski mask, after all. It would’ve been perfect for sneaking me out. Dad never would’ve known the difference, and I might have been able to get some damn sleep.

I rubbed my face before throwing the covers off and sitting up. I listened for any movement in the house and was thankful when I didn’t hear anything.

When I had returned from my run, my dad was back in his spot on the couch, the remote in his hand, and his eyes glued to the documentary he’d chosen to watch. I’d rolled my eyes and went upstairs to take a shower and finish my homework.

I hadn’t gotten very far on the homework bit because as soon as I saw my human physiology textbook, I thought of Evan. When I thought of Evan, I thought of him going to the party. When I thought of him going to the party, I imagined him calling me the next morning and telling me that he’d changed his mind. And that really didn’t leave me in the mood to do anything but stare out my window and pray that the universe held some sort of pity for me and would not let that happen.

I stood, stretched, and made my way to my bedroom door, pulling it open and walking down the stairs. I went into the kitchen and a grin broke out on my face when I saw the white orchid sitting on the table. I squealed to myself and practically danced over to it, picking it up, and pressing it against my nose. I looked down to see that a disc was underneath it and picked it up. Nothing was written on the front, and I shrugged, the orchid still up to my nose as I started back up to my room with the disc in my hand.

Maybe Evan dropped it off before Dad went golfing. Maybe he dropped it off last night before he went to the party—I wasn’t that far from Steve’s house.

I walked into my bedroom and turned on my computer. As I waited for it to boot up, I plopped down into the seat and placed the orchid on the little space of desk in front of the monitor. When everything finally loaded, I all but ripped the DVD out of the case and stuck it into the computer, impatiently tapping my foot as it hummed at me. I opened the file and grinned at the name—For Anna.

That was when I got the same feeling I had last Friday when I walked in to school and found my locker vandalized, but ignored it and leaned back in the chair.

My heart raced as the computer screen went black. I placed my hands in my lap, sucking in a deep breath when I saw the back of Steve’s house appear on the screen. My hands curled into fists, my nails biting into my skin as the person behind the camera wordlessly walked to the front yard. People were scattered all around, most smoking and still drinking as they laughed like idiots. The camera zoomed in on Evan sitting in the front seat of the Buick. He was holding a blue party cup half-full of some liquid I probably didn’t care to know about and smoking what looked to be a joint. My breath caught as the person behind the camera practically ran over to him.

Evan grinned lazily. “You want?” His voice slurred as he held out the joint.

When the person behind the camera didn’t speak, Evan lifted his arm in a your loss gesture before bringing it to his lips, crossing his ankles on the ground. He wore that red and blue striped shirt he’d had on a few days ago with a pair of dark jeans and military boots.

“Evan!”

He looked up and his lazy smile returned when Steve entered the frame and leaned against the car door and poked his head through the open window.

“What are you doing out here all alone?”

“Chillin’.”

“Cool . . . cool. So, tell me about Arianna Weller, dude.”

I tightened my hands into fists, not caring that I might end up drawing my own blood if I kept it up.

“Arianna Weller,” Evan said slowly, smoke fuming from his mouth. “She’s not very attractive, is she, Steve?”

I choked and placed one hand flat on my chest, staring at the screen.

“Possibly one of the most unattractive girls in our