Love holding your Wattpad stories in book-form? Order a print copy of Until We Break now!

A BLAST OF ARTIFICIALLY COOLED AIR STRUCK NAOMI'S FACE AS SHE ENTERED THE EQUIPMENT STORE. The bell above her chimed loudly. As usual, the entire store was empty with the exception Ben himself sitting by the cash register watching whatever was showing on his small television. At the sight of him, Naomi immediately felt warmer. "Hey, Ben."

The older man looked up and peered past the few shoulder-high shelves to see her figure, standing by the door in a hoodie with her hands in her pockets. His face lit right up. "Hey, yellow."

Lodged between a restaurant and a spa, the equipment store had enough space for about eight people. But the room felt endless when Naomi was there with Ben. As if the both of them could fill the entire space together and there would still be untouched areas. "You don't have to call me that anymore." Naomi passed a few isles pointlessly before coming up to meet Ben at the register.

"What do you mean?" he defended. "I've been calling you that since the day I met you."

Naomi chuckled and sat her elbows on the counter, close enough to Ben now that she could see the grey prickling his chin. "I was seven."

"And I remember it like it was yesterday," he countered. He took a bag M&M's from under the counter— a stash he always kept for her— and held it up next to his face. "You were so shy. Just like the yellow M&M in the commercial, remember?"

"Yeah." Ben's smile grew.

"And Jessica was like the green one," he continued, "Bossy and loud." They laughed at that, it was hard not to. "I've never called either of you by your real names since." He bagged the M&M for her, the soft voices from his small T.V. accentuating their laughs. Then, Ben pointed a stern index finger at her, in spite of the wide-teethed smile still staining his face and said, "That's not about to change, got it?"

Naomi raised her palms innocently, a grin tickling her lips. The walls of the store expanded. "Got it."

"Good." He slid the bag across the counter to her.

Ben's Dance Equipment Store was definitely in an odd spot in Riverside. It was swamped by white-collar businesses, banks and one car wash nearby. In fact, it was quite far from any malls or commercial businesses, truly unorthodox, which would explain why the store was usually scanty, if not empty. But because of how close it was to The Fox Performing Arts Centre, almost everyone on the Riverside Dance Academy came here. In fact, Ben knew each dancer by name.

"How're you?" he asked cautiously. "Without Jessica and all."

She glanced at the lights on the television, buying herself enough time to come up with an answer. "I'm fine," she decided on.

Though she must've said something else because Ben only nodded and replied with, "I miss her too." The walls that Naomi had come to love stopped expanding and the space in the store suddenly became finite. "It's terrible what happened to her." Naomi grimaced. She took the bag of candy, focusing on the sound of it crinkle over her quickening heartbeat and said a soft goodbye.

Ben immediately regretted his words. Wincing, he tried, "Bye, Naomi. Stay safe." Then he watched her turn to the door and shove the chocolate in her pocket,

She got out in a hurry too because if she stayed she wasn't sure if she could look him in the eye instead of Jessica, who was standing right next to her.

In a swift ponytail and tight pink lips, Jessica stumbled past the isles alongside Naomi. "He doesn't know what he's talking about," she said. Naomi kept her eyes on her own feet. "I shouldn't have let us come here." A pathetic silence settled between them.

"I know," Naomi whispered, quickly leaving Ben's store before the reversing walls trapped her inside.

*

The rest of the week moved dreadfully slow. After what Ben had said in his equipment store, Jessica showed up much more often. She appeared at Naomi's room doorway in the mornings, walked her to the Fox Performing Arts Centre and even danced by her side in the Academy. But, perhaps worst off all, the single place Naomi could never escape her best friend was in her own sleep. It was where everything became about Jessica and her mind played constant replays of the disaster that changed Naomi's life forever; and ended Jessica's.

Naomi took off her blasting headphones and kicked off her shoes on the front porch of the Morgan family home. She stepped inside with Jessica, undoing her hair in the foyer as the usual silence bided her welcome. Often times, Naomi thought that if this house were to collapse in on itself, sinking roof and smashed in walls, no one would hear a thing. It would fall silently and the rest of Riverside would keep spinning.

But something shattered. Jessica and Naomi turned. "Hello?" The girls made their way there, rounding the living room glass coffee table. Naomi dropped her bag in an idle chair and Jessica shushed her. They moved through the dining room and into the kitchen where Naomi saw her father adversely picking up broken glass off the tiled floor. Jessica shook her head as Naomi sighed, watching him throw the hazardous pieces into the bin. But behind him, Naomi noticed was something much more dastardly: the stove was on and pots were steaming. "You're cooking?" she gaped.

Mr Morgan's eyes found his daughter at the doorway and he smiled. It was an embarrassing one, clenched teeth and high shoulders, as he kept throwing away the pieces of glass. "Don't tell your mother," he said guiltily.

When all the broken shards were gone, he stood up straight and said proudly, "Yes, I am cooking. "Your mother said she would be late so she asked me to go ahead and make dinner." A silence clenched the air before he added, "Relax its mostly leftovers."

Mr Morgan was Californian born and raised, even claiming to surf at one point. So it was somewhat out of the question for him to cook. Naomi never thought he minded anyway because her mother was born with whatever magic they're born with in Jamaica and gratefully brought it to their family kitchen. Still, Naomi could not picture her father on a surfboard. Not with his love for button-ups, one of which he was wearing now, a clean-shaven face and of course the esteem that came with his profession. Naomi tried to imagine his blonde hair stereotypically flapping in the wind as she eased herself onto one of the kitchen stools. She plopped her hands on the marble counter-top, drawing blanks at the idea.

Taking in her father's attire she asked, "Did you just get home?"

He turned around to her and nodded, setting down the kitchen towel and turning down the gas. Naomi glanced at the clock. It read seven.

Jessica folded her arms. "Doesn't your dad get off at five?" Naomi stayed silent.

"How was ballet?" the man asked, awkwardly working a large spoon in a pot.

"Fine," Naomi lied.

"How are you holding up?"

"What do you mean?"

"With Jessica?"

"Oh, fine," she lied again.

He nodded slightly, almost as if he didn't believe her then turned back to the steaming pot to switch off the gas completely. He then moved to open the cupboard and gather the plates. Naomi worked her ankle uncomfortably.

"Can you set the table, please?" he asked her before moving off again to busily stir and add ingredients. Naomi slipped off her stool quietly and entered the kitchen. She filled one arm with four porcelain plates and the other with four table mats and quickly went to distribute them on the dining table. Unlike at Ben's Dance Equipment Store, the walls in the Morgan family home never moved. They didn't expand to allow laughter to fill rooms or shrink to bring people closer together. They only stood to separate rooms and people.

Naomi made her way back into the kitchen, this time opening a drawer to pick out more utensils, but as she bounded off again she bumped into her father. He chuckled when he stepped back "Careful with those things," he warned, moving aside a knife with his finger. "Can't kill me yet. I haven't written the will." He winked playfully. Naomi smiled at him and nodded an apology.

Then, the unmistakable sound of a car engine neared the front door. It travelled all the way into the garage before humming into silence. In under a minute, the front door slammed open and footsteps hurried inside. Naomi turned, catching a glimpse of her little brother, William, dash up the staircase. She was about to go after him when Mrs Morgan came into view, her heels announcing her presence before the sight of her got the chance to. She gave her daughter a half-hearted 'good afternoon, baby' before meeting her husband in the kitchen. Naomi wasn't sure if she even looked at her.

"What!?" her father released.

"All over my car!" Mrs Morgan was shouting when Naomi entered the kitchen. "What needs to happen for our law enforcement to take them more seriously!?"

Naomi exercised her tongue before speaking. "What happened?"

Her mother looked her way furiously. "Those kids happened. The ones with the masks. They spray painted my car!" She stressed 'car' like one would stress 'no' at a devastating funeral. "Naomi, do you have any idea who these teenagers are? Kids your age must be talking."

"Told you," Jessica whispered. "Wild animals."

She silently wondered what they tagged her car with. "No, sorry. No one knows." Her mother almost nearly imploded, stopped only by her husband's embrace. He whispered some resolution in her ear and encouraged her to eat first before they visit the police station.

"I'm just glad our daughter isn't like them." Mrs Morgan looked at Naomi directly. Pride sat in her tone and reassurance settled in the angle of her lips. "Maybe if they had half the discipline it took to be a dancer they wouldn't be terrorising our streets like this."

Naomi wasn't sure why, but she felt inclined to reply. She pressed her lips together. "So," the woman attempted to lighten, "what's for dinner?"

Author's Note

Wow. I wrote this and I don't even know what to say.

This week's dedication goes to none other than, astrophile because guys when I say day one, I mean DAY ONE. They have stuck by me for months and is always showing me so much love, not to mention, they're pretty talented too. Guys, go follow them and check out some of their works! We love an angel! If you comment, vote and share, the next dedication could be you!

But also:
Ben- Wholesome or hiding something? 👀
Naomi's parents- trying 🤷🏾‍♂️ or terrible 😒.
And isn't anyone gonna check on William??

IN THE NEXT CHAPTER...

Jessica shook her head, speaking with her small hands as she went. "I mean yes, you want to go to NYC, but I mean we could just go to the city and not go to the ballet company." Naomi didn't say anything. "We could just get away. Get out of Riverside, you know?"