Amelia Rose POV
“I think I have a stalker.” I was standing behind them, my sister and best friend, anticipation slowing me down. I took a few small breaths, trying to relax.
“Um,” Caylie lowered her camera, “what?!” The little white church at the end of the dirt road faded from her attention. We stopped here in a random small town in Arizona, on our way home from our girl’s trip. Caylie saw a sign for this western tourist spot and thought it was the perfect opportunity for a random mini-photo shoot.
I had been trying to tell them about him the whole weekend, but it just never seemed like the right time. I didn’t want to ruin the spirit of vacation. Fun and rejuvenation and all that, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling he was popping up everywhere. I had to tell them before we got back home. I fidgeted with my fingers until all the tension in my body gathered in them. I squeezed and rubbed them together, reddening my light brown skin. I couldn’t pull my eyes away from my wrestling fingers. I knew what expressions would bore into me if I looked up, and I was in no rush for pity.
“Amelia Rose,” Aria, my sister, bent over and peered up at me. “Elaborate before I combust, please. There is a lot of hot lava boiling underneath my skin right now. Tell me who it is and I will save my eruption for them.” She narrowed her eyes, pushing me to answer. My silence dragged on a few moments longer than her impatience could withstand. “Meli.” She pushed, clenching her jaw.
“I-I,” I tried to push out more words but released minty-flavored air instead. I chewed harder and faster on my gum. I waited, hoping she would make a joke to lighten the mood. She always knew when to push me and when to let things simmer and fluff like rice. The joke didn’t come. Her shoulders tensed and her stare hardened. She was looking at me, but I got the sense it wasn’t me she was seeing. I frowned, hoping I didn’t just send her into the traumatic memories that were Dorien. The Shadow master attacked her in the dark because he was too cowardly to attack his real target. Now my jaw was clenching.
“Meli,” Caylie’s hand settled on my shoulder, relaxing the muscles tensing in my arms and shoulders. “Tell us what’s going on. Do you think you’re in dang-”
“No.” my hands fell to my sides. I looked at my sister and best friend, eyes wide, begging them to understand. Sure enough, four brown eyes, concerned and confused, pinned on me. “He won’t hurt me.” My brows scrunched together. “At least I don’t think so. I-I don’t know,” Caylie sighed. I had conflicting feelings about it, but I knew Caylie wouldn’t, which was making it a struggle to talk to her about it. “I think he is just shy. It doesn’t feel predatorial. He seems so burdened down, so sad. I-,” My head drooped and my shoulders relaxed. Caylie wouldn’t understand, and I couldn’t elaborate for Aria in front of her. I hoped she could read between the lines. “I want to help him.”
“How many times do I have to tell you, girls? We can’t save everyone.” Caylie pushed us into the saloon. The wisps and clangs of the doors swinging alerted the room we had arrived. Caylie guided us to a table, sneering around the room of eyes. It was quiet; only a few other tables were in use. “Th- this,” she slams her finger down, pointing at the table. “This gets women killed. You can’t be the heroine of everyone’s story.” She was leaning in towards us, speaking hushed but firmly.
Her frown dug into me, then at Aria when I didn’t budge. We had this conversation often. She thought I was a try-hard for solving people’s problems, and that it very well could kill me one day. She wasn’t entirely wrong. If she knew our family secret, she would understand. I’m sure of it, I hoped. It wouldn’t be a family secret if it got outside the family, though, would it? I didn’t want to be the one who broke that, but in times like these, it was difficult not to trust her with it.
“I know, I know. It’s engraved in our brains.” Aria waved her hands and made a crazed expression, yelling entirely too loud for the quiet setting. “Help people! So, you know, just don’t let him catch you alone.” Aria headed toward the bar, shrugging her shoulders. “Problem solved.” She called over her shoulder. She always could read between the lines. We weren’t twins, but we were only about a year apart, so we were masters at reading each other’s faces. She gave me a look that said, we’ll talk about this more later. In private. I nodded.
Aria came back to the table with three Cactus Wines. They were golden with a pink flower adornment inside a tall glass western boot. Caylie and I shared glances when Aria handed them to us, smirking. We shrugged and took a sip. It was tequila and peyote cactus water. We all distorted our faces and coughed before falling into a fit of laughter. These drinks were not for the weak-or us. It was still daylight outside. We didn’t intend to finish those drinks.
“I haven’t let on that I know, but uh,” I looked down, unable to stop my smile. “He is pretty easy on the eyes.” I peered up at them, smirking, hoping to ease some of the tension. I hate negative energy. It’s too much pressure, suffocating even. They shook their heads and rolled their eyes, but none of us could withhold our laughter. Caylie took some photos around the room. Their laughter didn’t quell the need for my eyes to scout the area.
The lanterns on the tables weren’t lit yet. The only light came from the windows at the front of the saloon. The corner tables still mingled with the darkness. I lingered there, breathing, calming, relieved they were empty. I followed Caylie’s line of sight to the bar. The bartender stood behind a lit lantern, flirting with a woman taking shots. Why did Aria come back with boot drinks instead of shots? To make us laugh, she was always trying to make us laugh. Aria grabbed my hand under the table. I was staring. I smiled at her, grateful, resolved, safe. I turned to Caylie, wiggling my eyebrows.
“What about you and Frodo?”
“Ugh, stop calling him that.” She said it like it was annoying, but she was smiling. No one that short has feet that big but a Hobbit, not to mention he had curly dark hair. I also could never remember his actual name, it was too hard to pronounce. She put her camera down on the table, sighing.
“Weird, its-he’s” Caylie rubbed her finger around the rim of her glass, staring into it like the words she needs will appear there. “I think he is trying to sabotage me.”
