Misbegotten

Eighteen

"Sofia, come on." 

The persistent knocking and beckoning continued as I stood mere metres away from the door wondering what on earth I was supposed to do next, or how I was supposed to react. I didn't expect him to come so soon; part of me hadn't expected him to come at all.

When I'd heard that he'd gotten accepted to his business course, I thought there was no way he would ever convince his parents to let him do anything else. Unless he'd grown a pair of balls and a backbone in a week, nothing good would come out of talking to him. I didn't know if I could handle going through it all again, just for him to leave and continue to do whatever his parent's ask of him.

"Please Sof, let's talk," Declan said, his voice fading a bit.

I wondered if I waited long enough if he would just leave. I wasn't so sure that I wanted him to leave, but it seemed the easier option. I tiptoed back into the kitchen as the knocking continued. After a few minutes it stopped and I let out a long breath of relief.

Shaking it off and pushing it to the back corners of my mind, I began pouring my popcorn into a bowl when I heard the noise. It was like rustling then footsteps, coming from upstairs. But no one was home and everything was locked, it didn't make any sense. I felt my heart quicken uncontrollably. Slowly I grabbed a knife from one of the drawers and headed towards the noise. It was probably nothing, but I wouldn't be able to do anything else until I checked out what was going on. But as I got close,r crouching at the top of the stairs, I realised it was definitely not nothing. The noise was coming from Cameron's room. I was certain it was the sound of footsteps. The door to his room began to open and I held up the knife, hoping in some stroke of luck it might protect me. A mop of brown hair emerged from the room and I let out a string of profanities before facing the intruder.

"What the fuck Declan!"

"Hey, you're the one who wouldn't let me in," he protested raising his arms in surrender. He took me in before his eyes settled on the knife in my hand. "What were you going to do with that?"

"I thought someone was breaking in, you ass," I said through gritted teeth before turning on my heel and walking back down the stairs. I could tell he was following me as I entered the kitchen putting the knife onto the bench. I tried my best to ignore how his black t-shirt fitted him and how his hair was messed perfectly, like he had just rolled out of bed.

"How the hell did you get in here?"

"The window was open in that room," he explained. I made a mental note to kick Cameron in the balls for that when he got back.

"From the second story?"

"There was a ladder near by, I propped it up," he explained rather casually for someone who just broke into a house.

"Fantastic," I commented. When he said nothing in return and just kept staring at me, I snapped.

"Why are you here?"

He reached into his back pocket and pulled out an envelope, and held it up so I could see what was written on the front.

"Your photography letter," I said.

"Yes."

"So you got in, and you think I'll just forgive you and leap into your arms like some damsel that's been waiting for you?"

"No, actually I haven't opened it," he stated.

"Then why are you here?"

"Because you were right," he said softly, as he placed the envelope in front of me. "Listening to my parents isn't what makes me happy. Talking to you makes me happy, and photography makes me happy and I realised that when we got back. I realised it on the plane actually." He paused and I really didn't know what to say. I was stunned into a confused silence. However, I didn't have much time to think over what he said because he started speaking again. "You were also wrong though. You told me the choice was between my parents or you. But that wasn't the choice - the choice was between me and my parents."