Elara
I make sure I am completely covered up today as I walk toward my stepbrother's room. A big sweatshirt, full sweatpants. There is no way what happened yesterday is happening again. My heart is pounding so hard I can feel it in my ears as I stop outside Anderson's door. He has not come out since we ate lunch. A loud voice in my head is telling me this is a terrible, terrible idea.
But my hand still forms a fist, and I knock on his door two times. If I only go in because he asks me, it will show I mean well. I knock once more. When no answer comes from inside, I try the handle. It turns easily. The room is empty. I take one careful step in.
The red glow from the end of a joint guides me to the balcony. He does not even have time to register that I am here. I grab the joint from his fingers and crush it under my shoe. His eyes finally find mine.
"You should not be smoking out here. Or anywhere."
"I was not smoking," he answers.
