It's raining now. The droplets splashing against my lashes as I frantically attempt to brush them away. 

"You should really invest in a jacket." I can't even see Luka's face from behind my hair, but I know he has some dumb ass smirk on his lips. 

"You should really keep your snarky comments to yourself." 

Childish. I know. But after the day I've had, I really don't care. I had to turn my phone off a while ago because Esther and Zeke kept texting and texting, and I really don't have the energy to come up with more lies. 

"Where are we even going?" I ask, my voice a bit too bratty for my taste. 

"You'll see." 

I finally grab my hair in my hands and tie it behind my head in the messiest bun in history, but right now, I know I look like a mess. 

It fits. 

I always believed that no matter how hard you try, your true emotions will always be shown through your appearance. And right now, the wreck on the outside perfectly coupled the car crash going on inside of me. 

I catch Luka looking at me through the corner of my eye and I turn, meeting his gaze. 

"What?" I snap. 

"You look like hell." He says, attempting to mask whatever snide thoughts he has. He's not doing it well. 

"Oh, I wonder why!" I snap, throwing my hands up. "It's not like some bozo came out of nowhere and tackled me like some fourth string linebacker! And then, refused to get off of me, just getting real comfy on top of me while I lay in the new mud!" 

He pauses for a moment, his expression hard to read. 

But then a smile breaks onto his cracking lips. 

I hate how attracted I am to him. 

I tell myself that it's just hormones, teenage shit. 

But I know full well it's not. 

"Don't worry." He says, looking ahead of him finally. "It's around this corner." I look ahead and see that the concrete jungle we had been walking on has now turned into a suburban wonderland. 

Seriously it looks like someone just ripped a ad out of a 1960s paper and plastered it in front of me. 

"Um, you know people who live here?" I ask incredulously. 

"Yes, gringita. Just because I live a life on the other side doesn't mean that everyone does. This is a place we can discuss important matters safely." 

"Alright." I mutter, highly skeptical. 

The streets are tan and beige concrete with perfectly trimmed lawns. The grass is too green and sees to shine with dew even in the middle of a rainstorm. The houses are painted perfectly without a scratch or a dent, much like the mini vans and SUVs that line up in front of each house, waiting to be driven to some high end corporate job or some yoga class at a local perfect gym. 

It's sickeningly perfect. 

Luka turns up a long walkway that leads to the prettiest house I've ever seen. The white boards that line the walls are perfectly aligned, and rose bushes line the walkway like the entranceway to wonderland. When we reach the oak doors, I see that even the welcome mat is aligned perfectly, the words "Come On In" stitched in the most perfect cursive. 

I must be in a dream. 

Luka digs into his pocket, and with a slight jingle, pulls out a light blue key, and places it into the lock.

"You have a key?" I ask idiotically. 

"No, this is just a wonderfully formed wand." He says sarcastically, not even having to look up at me to make me feel foolish. 

The door swings open silently, as if the hinges are scared to squeak. 

"Luka?" A male voice calls. It's young, like a teenager. 

"Yeah, Roman, soy yo." He says, spanish slipping off his tongue effortlessly. 

"Venga aqui." The voice chirps and I hear the rolling of wheels that catches me off guard. 

"Don't forget to wipe your feet, Katya." Luka says, giving me a small smile as he stares at my mud covered form. 

"Ha ha." I laugh humorlessly. 

But he just shrugs and I follow him into the house. 

And just to be safe, I wipe my feet. 

The inside of the house is just as pretty as the outside. Eggshell walls without a dent or scratch surround me, and in front of me, a large carpeted staircase leading around a bend and disappearing. Pictures line the walls, smiling children and parents running in the neighborhood just outside. Light is everywhere. 

Luka looks so out of place here, yet his posture is so relaxed, more relaxed than when he's in his own home. 

I hear wheels again and, from around the corner, a wheelchair pulls up, holding a boyishly handsome teenage boy, his hair flopping in front of his eyes like a young Johnny Depp. 

"Oh, Luka, I see you've brought a friend." He looks me up and down, but not in a way that makes me feel uncomfortable. More calculating than sultry. 

"Yes, this is gring- this is Katya." He looks at me and I see that Luka, Luka is blushing. 

I smile at him without even realizing but it soon wipe away once I realize what I'm doing. 

"Well, I would usually stand in the presence of such a beauty, but as you see" Roman motions down to his chair. "No puedo." 

I chuckle uncomfortably. 

"No pasa nada, Kat." Roman says, using a nickname so suddenly. "I'm cool with it, so don't fret. But I have one request, you can't come in like this." 

I blush beet red and frown. 

"Excuse me?" 

"I meant the mud." He says, raising a dark eyebrow. 

"Oh, right." I say. 

"Luka will lead you upstairs, I don't want to have to hook up to the lifter chair right now." 

I look at the stairs, and for the first time notice one of those motorized chair lifters, like the ones they have on school buses and in hospitals. 

"Thank you, Roman." I smile at him. 

"Anything for a girl like you." He winks, and wheels away. 

"He seems nice." I say subtly to Luka. 

"He is." And something crosses Luka's face. Sadness. 

But it disappears just as suddenly as it appears. 

"Come, you need to get changed." Luka says, and he leads me upstairs. 

~~~

About fifteen minutes later, I am dressed in a large t-shirt and sweatpants that I have to tie about five times to fit, and comfortably sitting in a couch across from Luka. 

It feels odd to be so comfortable with what is happening. But I have a feeling that things are about to get serious. 

"We need to discuss this, Luka." I say suddenly, the silence too heavy. 

He doesn't look up from his hands that lie in front of him. His knuckles tighten, turning as white as the walls around us. 

"I know. But I also know that as soon as we do, this all becomes real." 

"This is already real, Luka." I snap, but my voice stays in an almost whisper. 

"I know." He sighs heavily, running his hands through his hair aggressively. 

We're both silent for a moment. It's so heavy that I feel the air pressing out of my lungs and into my blood. 

"I don't know where your mother is." He says finally, and my mouth suddenly grows dry. 

"But I think I know who has her." 

I sit up straight in my seat, my back becoming extremely ridged.

"Who." 

He exhales, and rubs one eye with the back of one fist. 

"It's my half brother. And he's known about you for a long time." 

"W-what? What the hell do you mean?"

"I mean" He says, his voice tight. He looks up at me finally, and my eyes meet his dangerously. I am scared to blink.

"He knows your father. So he knows about you. He had been in prison because of your father, for a long time. He got out a few months ago."

His voice is too casual, too calculated. 

"How - why- what- oh my god." I stutter, trying to gather my thoughts but my mind is a word bank of ill fitting phrases and symbols that wouldn't fit together if you hit them together with a hammer. 

"And it gets worse."

"Oh great." I mutter under my breath. 

I look up at Luka again, and his eyes are settled on me, like a hawk looking at a mouse. 

"And you're next on his list."