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Summary
For the third time that week, I heard the unmistakable sound of Stiles’s window sliding open, followed by a muted yelp and thud. Thirty seconds later, the jeep’s engine creaked to life and it peeled out of the driveway. Sighing, I flip over onto my other side, facing away from my own window and squeezing my eyes shut.I had decided long ago I didn’t want to know what my 16 year old brother did in his freetime in the dead of night. Especially after I once did venture to my window to watch him, and saw him stuffing a duffel full of heavy chains into the back of his jeep. Nope.
Groaning, I turned onto my back and eyed the alarm-clock on the bedside table. Seriously, It was a school day. I felt curiosity rising in me, felt it poke its head into my side, urging me to follow him and see what warranted sneaking out of the house at 2:30 on a Tuesday night. I shoved it away, huffing and settling onto my side again, forcibly shutting my eyes and reminding myself I didn’t care. Reminded myself that caring is dangerous. Caring gets you hurt. I reminded myself the last time I let myself really care, I watched my mother forget who I was, then held her hand as she died on a hospital bed.
