>My blood runs cold. I feel the scales on my wings gently stiffen. I can feel a gaze on my back. Amber's terrified gaze that looks past me confirms it. There's someone behind me.
>I swallow and turn my head, hoping that whoever it is isn't a narc.
>As I turn from our little smoke hangout in the woods my worst fears manifest. Mom's staring at us. She's got the mom face on. The one you only get when you know you're up shit creek. I swallow. She speaks, barely containing how upset she is.
>"Smoking?"
>I side-glance to Amber as she's gone wide-eyed. The smoldering cigarette butt still in her hand. I glance down to my own cancer stick sickened.
>"Come on. We're talking to your father."
>She makes a motion to leave, pausing before she does. "Put those out."
>I grimly nod and do as I'm told, using the heel of my boot to grind the thing into ashy nothingness.
>It's not a long walk back to the house. Doesn't stop it from being the hardest walk I'd ever done. I keep stealing glances to Amber to see how she's holding up. Not good. I clench my fists.
>As I approach the house, two storied and quaint, I start to feel a cold sweat come in. Here I go disappointing dad, yet again. Got Amber caught in this, too. Wonder if they'd believe I was the one to introduce her and not vice versa. I hope so.
>We step in and are sequestered into our rooms, waiting for the patriarch's arrival from work. I notice my phone buzz as I slink into my beanbag.
>"I'm sorry." Amber's text fills me with dread.
>"I'll take the fall." I fire back
>She takes a long while to respond. I keep my eyes locked as her response is seemingly typed and deleted several times over.
>All I finally get is "please dont"
>I've set my mind already. She's got much farther to go down than me. I can at the very least do this for her.
>The fated hour arrives and I hear the front door open. The noise is quieter than normal, he must already know.
cont.