I didn't bother putting my bag away when I got into the house. The first thing I did was slam the door shut behind me.

I wasn't angry or anything, I just needed to get the two lovebirds' attention.

"Hey!" I yelled out. "None of that smooching while I'm around, please?"

My mom jumped away from Luke, and flushed a deep red, turning to look at me. "Oh, I'm sorry, Marty... uh, Luke was just leaving."

Luke, looking affronted, crossed his arms and scoffed. "Really? I was just leaving? Way to speak for me, Mandy." He shrugged and turned to pick up a small vase. "Well then, now that I'm leaving, I think I should take something with me, shall I? So I don't get lonely?" He fake pouted.

"Luke, I didn't mean it like—"

A loud crash interrupted her and she gasped, turning to see the broken remains of her hand-made vase.

If Luke cared about her at all, he'd have known it was her favorite one.

We all stood still and quiet for what seemed like forever before Luke broke the silence.

"Well, I guess I'd better be going," he said with a little smile, as if he were proud of what he'd done. I felt my stomach roll over in disgust. The man turned and clicked his tongue disapprovingly at the door. "You know, you really shouldn't slam doors like that, Marty. Someone could get hurt— like this ol' door here." He grinned at me like he was my father, then left through the cracked front door.

I turned to my mom, who'd grabbed the broom from the kitchen and was carefully sweeping up the cracked vase, so carefully that it seemed as if she was hoping to somehow magically bring it back by caring for it.

"I can't believe you're still dating that ass, mom," I said distastefully, kneeling to help her get the smaller pieces of what could have been the symbol of my mom's soul; broken and thrown around by the demon known as Luke. "He treats you terribly."

"Marty, you know I don't like it when you say words like that." She scooped up the last of the pieces and stood up, moving towards the table. "Besides, this is probably good that he... broke the vase. Maybe I can make it into a frame."

"Mom, he's treating you terribly! You have to dump him!" I said indignantly. "How are you not realizing this?"

She turned to me and sighed, setting the pieces down on the table neatly, as she always was. "Marty, I'm afraid that this is not for you to decide. Luke is my partner, and unless I choose to on my own, I'm not leaving him."

I bit my lip to avoid screaming in anger, which I could feel was boiling up inside me like a giant bubble, about to burst. I grabbed my bag and hurried up the stairs to my room, to which the door was ajar.

Damn it Polli, I thought to myself. Polli was my younger sister, who unfortunately had an unbreakable habit of walking around the house when on the phone, including the rooms that were off limits, like mine. Or the bathroom when someone is in it.

Not that I'm talking about a time that actually happened.

I was about to turn and give the nuisance that was my sister a piece of my mind, but decided it wasn't worth the trouble and went to my room instead.

I stormed in and fell onto my bed, hoping to be comforted by the darkness I usually found there. Instead, an unfamiliar ray of light ran across my field of vision, and I rolled over in order to avoid the severe suffering of a condition known as annoyance.

Usually my window was shut with the blinds drawn across it, but for some reason someone had opened it today. Probably Polli. She liked looking at her reflection in the glass.

In a fit of laziness I rolled off my bed and across the room, only pulling myself up when I reached the window.

While my hand reached toward the string that determined the position of the shades, something moved in the corner of my eye. My curiosity peaked, I slid my gaze towards the movement.

There was Hazel, sliding up her window so that the cold air blew into her face. Her eyes were shut and her hair blew with the breeze. I don't know what made me do it, but I ducked down when her eyes opened again.

Hazel looked around as if to make sure no one was watching (like me), then carefully filled the window space and climbed out.

What was she doing?

It was almost graceful, almost a dance. Without a moment's hesitation she moved upwards, as if she'd done it a million times before, and I found I couldn't look away. Didn't want to. She was climbing towards the roof, where I wouldn't be able to see her. I realized I didn't want her to go to the roof. I wanted the dance to continue.

Hazel stopped for a moment to survey her surroundings, and I thought she was just making sure she had another place to step, but she wasn't looking at the house. I craned my neck to see what she was looking at and realized it was the sunset.

I'd never stopped to appreciate the sunsets in Oregon. Usually I was in a rush to get home or too invested in a conversation with Jane. Now, as I watched the sun go down with Hazel, I found that, like all the other times I'd looked at the sunset, I couldn't focus on it completely. I was too curious as to what Hazel was thinking.
Was she in awe? Did she, too, have trouble focusing on the beauties that normally took most people's breath away?

We both seemed to snap to at the same time. I realized I'd dropped my phone on the floor and cursed, stooping to retrieve it. When I went back to the window she was gone.