"Cursed by the love that I receive."

SUFJAN STEVENS | MYSTERY OF LOVE

• • •

A disembodied male voice rung alarms in Eden's ears.

She could hear Birdie's boots pivot around to face the source of the sound. That's when the dreaded protective instinct kicked Eden in the ass and she knew she was going to have to get her sister out of this one.

Eden whisked around and faced Smith who held his white front door open with a loose grip. He was dressed in olive green sweatpants and an oversized hoodie, judging by his bedhead he was either extremely tired or was interrupted while studying.

"Wrong house—sorry," Eden said quickly with a small wave.

Smith watched the two girls with crinkled eyebrows. "Nah, you came to the right place. My mom told me to wait for you here. Luckily, she's not here 'cuz if she heard this—phew."

Suddenly, Birdie had no issue stepping forward. "It's mostly my fault. Not entirely because the other half decided not to show. Point is, I'm sorry for ruining your garden. Honestly, I didn't think I was sorry but I think there's a piece of me that feels something."

He quirked an eyebrow as if she was speaking a foreign language, and Birdie might as well have been. Smith let out a low humorless chuckle, his washed-out bohemian green eyes beamed with amusement. "Well, thanks for that almost-apology, I guess it's no big deal—for me," he said.

Smith looked at me intently, but it was almost as if he had never seen Eden before.

"I'm Smith." He extended his hand out.

Eden reluctantly took a few steps forward, staring at his hand dubiously before shaking. His hand was as warm as a fireplace in Christmas and she never wanted to let go. "Eden."

"Birdie." Her sister merely lift a hand up for a small wave.

Smith grinned, and ran his hand through his hair shortly after our hands drifted apart. "Anyway, don't worry I'll drop my mother a message. I know there's something else she wanted from you in return of her 'ruined prized possessions.'" He air quoted–prized possessions–like he heard it all before and was sick of it. He thought for a moment. "Oh yeah! You're definitely not going to like it but she wants you to mend her flowers."

"I'll ask her when she wants you to start and I'll let you know sometime?" he said, somewhat unsure. Without another word said, Smith slowly closed the door and left the two sisters in the unknown.

• • •

"I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to put that much baking soda in there." Sage watched Braden pour two tablespoons of baking soda into a milk chocolate brownie batter.

Braeden couldn't cook for shit—in his defense, none of them could anyway.

"It doesn't really make a difference," Braeden insisted before picking up the cooking book and his eyes skimmed over the instructions. "It's going to come out the same way isn't it? I saw it on TV once."

Sage continued to leaf through her worn magazine. "Your idea of TV are competition of people actually eating roaches, worms and scorpions. Let's just say your opinion should be taken with a light grain of salt."

"Fear Factor is doing all that stuff for fifty-thousand dollars—sounds worth it to me," he retorted and Sage shot him a look of disgust before going back to her article.

"Anyway," Eden cleared her throat. "It's going to grow a lot more than necessary," she argued, still unsure, but somehow following along with her initial statement, she turned to Sage. "Right Sage?"

The redhead looked up from her seat on the sofa and scoffed at Braeden. "That's what makes brownies, brownies and not cake. If you add even so much as a little baking soda, you're practically baking a chocolate cake."

Braeden froze in his spot at the Lawrence family kitchen and sighed in defeat. "Shit, really? My mom hates chocolate cake."

"You didn't put it in yet did you–oh, never mind." As the words flew from Eden's mouth, she noticed the pile of baking soda sitting in the stark contrast atop the brownie mix. "Well, I hope your mom appreciates the fact that you tried."

"What the hell are you guys doing there?" Jesse asked, turning his head away from the TV in confusion for what was notably the first time ever since Sage and Eden arrived around six p.m. As usual, effort wasn't one of Jesse's vocab words and it was more than obvious.

"What you came here for?" Braeden assumed. "How's that going by the way? Since you've been watching TV and being useless the whole time? Do you even know how to make brownies?"

Jesse awed, his cheeks rising as his eyebrows knit into a tight grip. "I literally make weed brownies for a living."

"Yeah, but the difference is I don't want my mom getting mysteriously high on weed!" Braeden said.

"OK fine, but, Sage isn't doing anything either, but you don't say anything about that!" Jesse exclaimed and instantly caught Sage's attention.

"Yeah but, she's different," Braeden uttered.

With an accusatory hand in Sage's direction, Jesse scoffed. "How?" As though a wave of realization washed over his features, those baby blue eyes of his crinkled upwards along with his lips. "Ah, I get it, never mind."

Braden shifted awkwardly, turning back to the shitty batch of brownie mix that was already ruined in the first place. Scratching the back of his head, he sighed and his arms hit his sides in defeat.

"Well, I'm going to Seven Eleven and buying brownie mix," he said, dejected.

Eden jumped from the spot on the couch she cozied into a mere seconds ago. "C'mon! It doesn't even taste the same, besides if it's homemade it goes straight to the heart you know?" she said.

"You know what else goes straight to the heart? Diabetes and cholesterol...so I'm not getting your point here," he deadpanned.

The ringing of the doorbell tore through the silence that fell over the room. Braeden swung the door open, welcoming a few laughs, exclaims, and hoots inside his home.

"Hey man." Eden heard Caleb and another somewhat familiar voice say. The guys entered the living room, Caleb having been here a few times while Smith absorbed Mrs. Lawrence's mug collection cabinet and the pictures frames of Braeden and his older brother Adam perched up on the walls of the foyer.

Jesse looked up from his phone as they walked in and he greeted them with a loud holler. Eden could feel the tension build up like a drum roll as Caleb and Smith made their way into the kitchen. They were dressed casually in khaki pants. Caleb wore a white tee and Smith wore a graphic tee with some band on it. As much as she wanted to avoid Smith's gaze paired after the morbid embarrassment Birdie put her through yesterday, but, he didn't quite get the message.

Smith introduced himself to careless Sage, and Eden simply smiled and threw in a little wave.

"Are you guys here to help Braeden too?" Sage asked, meddling with her acrylic nails and tapping them against the island counter.

Caleb chuckled. "Nah, I'm just here to collect something."

Sage rolled her eyes. "Guys and their stupid favors nowadays."

"You have that phone number?" Caleb asked Braeden.

"Yeah," Braeden pulled out his phone, before reading a phone number aloud. Their voices faded into the background of the Formula One that screamed on TV and suddenly Eden couldn't focus on anything other than her own swirling thoughts.

She cleared her throat. "So what are you doing here?"

Smith whipped his head towards me. "Nothing much, I guess," he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Caleb and I were down by the beach earlier, then he had to stop by here so..."

Sage looked up at him with a teasing smile. "Aw, having romantic walks by the beach. Is there something we should know?"

Smith grinned. "Yeah, because we definitely take romantic strolls down the beach—in fact—we watched the sunset too."

"Sarcastic are we? I didn't know you had such a comical side to you." Eden smiled at his witty remark, impressed.

"I can show you more one day—when your sister isn't around next time," Smith said.

"Oh, please don't remind me."

Next time? Eden hardly knew this guy, but she couldn't tell if he was being serious or if she was just overthinking every little detail. Before she had a chance to question his motives, Smith suddenly rubbed his hands together loudly.

"Anyway, I gotta go to 7-Eleven to get some things," he said. "Anyone need anything?"

Braeden's eyes sprang open and wide.

"Actually, yeah, I need brownie mix. So if you wouldn't mind, could you find a low-fat, no raisins—they'll trick you—with no trace of nuts and gluten-free brownies? My mom loves those," Braeden rambled.

As ridiculous as it sounded, Eden had been to Braeden's place a few times and she could verify that Mrs. Lawrence really did like those.

Sage raised a brow. "You want coffee with that?"

Smith cocked his head to the side slightly. "What?"

"Just take Eden with you! She'll know, right?" Braden looked at Eden with an eager confidence.

"Uh, yeah, sure," she replied softly.

"They like to sneak shit in those brownies sometimes, gotta be careful. Don't need my mother swelling up like a balloon a day before her birthday, right?" Braeden chuckled nervously.

"You might as well give me a waiver to sign that'll protect me from being sued just in case they mess up on the nuts. Or basically if they include everything that's usually in a brownie?" Smith retorted.

"I don't know what kind of brownies you're eating but raisins? That shit should be illegal." Braden frowned.

Sooner or later Smith and Eden left the threshold and due to Smith's newly close friendship to Caleb, he somehow got the right to drive his car.

It was nine o'clock when dusk fell, the mosquitoes buzzed and the green shrubbery silhouetted and the colors muted. The subtle warmth of the day ebbed into a cool breeze. At night when the sea levels arose, the smell of the sea breeze was so pungent in the air that Eden felt she was standing on the shore watching the waves pound onto the rocks.

Caleb's glossy black Mercedes reflected in the moonlight in all its glory. Smith revved the engine before pulling onto the road. Feeling slightly chilly, Eden rubbed her arms and discovered truly how useless her sweater was in this weather.

His eyes flickered from the road to the rear view mirror and he cleared his raspy throat.

"So ... where are you from?" His solemn expression morphed into a crooked smile.

"Here, born and raised."

"You like it here?" Smith asked, his tone tinged with curiosity as he glanced at her briefly.

"Yeah, I guess. I mean it could be better. There's not much to do and it would be nice to travel around you know?" She replied, weaving a few fingers through her lengthy chestnut locks of hair. "How about you?"

"My family's from here too, but I grew up in Honolulu." He gripped the steering wheel as he made a sharp turn.

"That's a bit of a shitty transition," Eden said bluntly. "I mean how can you compare Hawaii to this place?"

He snickered. "Not gonna lie, it's definitely different. Really different."

"Why'd you move though?" Eden's curiosity peaked, she just needed to know why someone to move to this half-asleep town. 

Smith's body stiffened and he swallowed. "My dad got a really good job offer here. I guess it was so good that he couldn't let me finish high school first."

"Oh yeah? Doing what?"

"He's a neurosurgeon, the fourth in my family."

Eden's eyes widened, and she couldn't find anything to say. 

"I know, people don't really take me to be a doctor's son." He tugged on his worn red jacket and ruffled his messy hair. "

"I wouldn't say that...but, yeah, not really," Eden said with a short giggle. "Let me guess, you don't want to follow in his path."

With no hesitation whatsoever, Smith shook his head and pulled into the empty gas station. The green, red and orange hues of 7-Eleven were the brightest things around.

Smith killed the engine and Eden stirred for a moment as she checked her pockets for the money Braeden gave her. Suddenly, the passenger door swung open and she looked up to Smith's lean frame. 

"Aren't you quite the gentleman?" Eden smiled. 

• • •

"Betty Crockers."

"No, Hershey's."

"Who the hell doesn't like Betty Crockers?"

"I love it, but I think Hershey's is also good."

"Oh really? Do you really want to fight me on this?" Eden teased with a semi-sweet threatening tone. 

Smith put his hands up defensively with a lopsided smile. "Betty Crocker's it is then!" The fluorescent lights flickered as Smith chucked the mix into the cart and pushed it down the aisle. 

Eden added in a packet of chips, salsa, some ranch dip, and string cheese for Caleb. Meanwhile, Smith wandered off to the pharmaceutical aisle, or at least the very little that this convenient store had to offer. 

When they reach the counter, Smith waited for Eden to unload everything she needed before he scanned a Dettol antiseptic, 500gm Ibuprofen and large band-aid patches.

"Wow, that's enough to heal a group of jocks during the end of the season," Eden said with a curt laugh. Smith looked at her with calm eyes before pulling a small smile on his face. 

"My mother cut herself on broken glass," he mentioned, digging for his wallet in his back pocket.

She nodded, but wasn't his dad a doctor? Surely he wouldn't send out his son to do something he should be able to?

Smith swiped his card and Eden caught herself staring at the objects and bagging them absentmindedly. It was only when Smith headed for the car with their items that she realized he paid for all of it. 

Eden smacked her forehead.  "I—"

"Eden, stop. It's fine, really."

"No, no, I'm serious. I was completely distracted," she insisted. 

"You're really stubborn aren't you?" he grinned.

She rolled her eyes at him. 

"I figured," Smith snorted. "Just pay me back next time."

"You've been very presumptuous with this 'next time' you keep throwing around. What makes you think there's gonna be a 'next time'?"

"Well, first, you came here. You didn't have to even though Braeden asked. Second, I think I'm pretty damn cool and I know you agree." Smith counted off his right hand, keeping his left hand steady on the wheel. 

"And third?"

His hazel eyes met hers for a split second and a warm smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 

"I wasn't really prepared to keep going, but, uhm, you're pretty cute," he admitted. 

Eden's chest suddenly tightened. Holy shit. She quickly blinked and broke into a wheeze-like laugh. 

Smith furrowed his brows and erupted into an equally nervous laugh.

"You are pretty cool," she nodded. 

Loud laughter and witty conversations flowed from Braeden's open window. Eden hustled out of the car, carrying the bags and refusing all kinds of help from Smith just to avoid her own awkwardness. 

"Thanks for that." She pat down her bootleg jeans and her black turtleneck. 

"Yeah, sure. No problem." Smith shoved his hands in his pockets. A ping rung through the silent air and suddenly, his light-hearted expression turned cold. 

"I—uhm, have to go," he said.

Before she had another chance to look back at him, Smith disappeared. He left nothing but questions filled in the air and concerned faces.