The Other Side of Life

Chapter Nine

The Other Side of Life: Chapter Nine~

Willow wasn't shocked to see the porch lights still on as Elliott pulled into the driveway. Her parents used to leave the downstairs light on for her when she was out late, too. She wondered for a second if he had waited up for her, but shook the thought away. Nobody cared enough to do that. It was almost one in the morning by now, Max would be asleep.

Elliott cut the engine and the car was engulfed in a peaceful silence, both he and Willow leaning back in their seats, staring out the window screen. The young girl was the first to break the silence.

"Thank you," she smiled at the boy as she turned to face him, one leg bent sideways on the seat. "I had fun." She was an awkward girl, Willow was, never knowing what to say or how to say things. She wanted to say more. She wanted to thank him for making her feel welcome, for making her laugh for the first time in a while, for not judging her like his friends had. But she didn't say anything like that, just hoped he got the underlying message.

"You don't have to thank me," his British voice was boyish, but at the same time, a little rough and deep. She would never get used to the way he pronounced his words so carefully, his accent making them even more intriguing. "But I had fun, too. And I just want to say that I'm sorry, again, for—."

Willow shook her head, cutting him off. "Don't apologise for somebody else, Elliott. That's not your responsibility. And I'm kind of glad they acted the way the did," she admitted as she hid her smile, Elliott watching her with furrowed eyebrows. She knew he was wondering why anyone would be glad to be made to feel uncomfortable and talked down to. She chuckled quietly, "Goodnight, Roosevelt."

Willow opened her door and stepped out of the car, closing it behind her. Elliott called out a goodnight back, wishing her to sleep well, before he started the engine, only pulling out of the driveway when her front door was closed and she was safely inside.

Taking off her shoes, Willow slipped out of her trainers and wiggled her toes, grateful for the cool air on her slightly sweaty feet. This is why I hate trainers she thought to herself. She quickly hung her jacket up on the coat rack and left the spare keys in the ceramic bowl. She had yet to get herself her own set cut because she rarely left the house.

"Have fun?"

Willow jumped and took a step back as her uncle came out of the kitchen wearing a pair of basketball shorts. "Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me," Willow rubbed at her chest, surprised to find it wasn't beating as frantically with the scare she'd just been given. "I thought you were the Nun."

"The what?"

"Nothing."

Max raised an eyebrow at his niece. "You do know you're well past curfew, right?" He had his arms crossed over his bare chest as he spoke, the muscles in his shoulders tense. Max didn't really give much away expression wise, so Willow found it hard to decipher if he was really mad or not. "Why didn't you answer your phone?"

Willow shrugged, though she looked a little sheepish. "It died," she mumbled, thinking of all the pictures she took on her phone of the fair, and also a few of her and Elliott. There were some videos thrown in there, too.

"And I assume his phone died, as well?" He asked, not saying Elliott's name which angered Willow. But she didn't say anything, not wanting to cause an argument with her uncle over a boy she barely knew.

"No?" It came out as a question, a little bit sassy and sarcastic. "I just didn't think I had to call you unless something bad happened... which it didn't."