"Stop looking at me like that."

Sam glared down at me, lowering the book she had been reading for the past week. 'Ten thousand ways to kill'... Interesting title. I kept asking her where she'd got it but she either changed the topic immediately or completely ignored my presence.

"Why don't you slide down?" I asked her. My voice was quite girlish. It made me sound like a kid, which irritated Sam. She'd asked me to talk normally countless times but I had no idea how to do that.

"I don't do sliding," she responded coldly and stuck her nose back into the book. With a sigh, I climbed onto the slide and sat next to her.

"Then why are you here?" I questioned, trying to see what she was so interested in reading. Before I could get the slightest of glances at the page she was on, she shut the book and turned to look directly into my eye.

"The view is nice here," she answered and put the book behind her. I frowned at her secrecy but decided against questioning it.

"But the book has been blocking your view for the past hour. Some kids have been waiting for you to get off the slide this whole time," I informed her as I moved back, seeking further comfort.

Sam looked at the kids who were trying to keep themselves busy at the swings. A shadow of a smile passed over her visage as one of them swung too high and ended up falling face-first onto the ground. "Eh, they look happy enough on the swings."

My frown grew deeper. I didn't like it when Sam was selfish. And I knew that she didn't like it when I was selfless either. It was one of the biggest mysteries how she came to be my best friend. It was an even bigger mystery how she didn't pull my hair out whenever I nagged her about putting other people first.

"Our holiday ends today and you've not been kind to a single soul," I whispered in a disappointed manner. That drew a chuckle from Sam's throat.

"Our holiday ends today and you've not enjoyed yourself at all, Ellie. You're a disgrace to all of us slackers," she retorted, getting up and spreading her arms. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, enjoying the slight breeze.

"At least I made an impact-"

"At the nursing home? Or at the dump site? I don't get why you do all this nonsense. It's a waste of time. And no, you are not making an impact. I have no idea how to make you see how insignificant it is. It's basically similar to doing nothing at all."

I didn't want to argue with her again. It never ended well. Sighing, I slid down and swiftly landed on the ground. "I'll pick you up for school tomorrow. Usual time."

I heard her mumble something about letting her sleep in a bit then I left.

It was a silent walk home. However, my mind didn't let me enjoy the peace. It kept replaying all the pointless things Sam usually said about my selfless nature. 'It makes no impact…'

Another sigh escaped my lips as I ran my hand through my hair. My bangs were getting a bit too long. I wanted them trimmed but Sam liked them better when they were long. She digged the whole emo look they gave me when they covered my eyes. I thought they were untidy.

When I got home, I looked at myself in the mirror for longer than I usually did. The scar across my neck hadn't completely faded; it was still noticeable. The one on my cheek could barely be seen.

I gave myself a toothy smile just to see if anyone would notice my missing premolar whenever I smiled. Well, only if they were ultra-observant, like Sam.

I was about to take off my clothes and have a quick shower when a tall, lean guy walked into my room. His eyes were glued to his phone but he still managed to walk smoothly all the way to my bed-side cabinet and take my airpods. Silently, I watched him lie on my bed, put the airpods in his ears and tap away at his phone.

"Elliot-" I started but stopped when his head snapped towards me so fast, it could've snapped off. "S-sorry, Edward…"

He nodded for me to continue. "It's not healthy to share airpods, you're making my perfectly-spread bed wrinkle and dad said that you should take the car to the garage to get fixed," I said, tying my hair up.

"I don't care, I don't care and… I don't care," he said, wearing a face that clearly showed me that he didn't care.

I didn't really have the energy to convince him to at least follow dad's instructions so I just grabbed my towel and stepped into the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Edward knew more than anyone else what dad was capable of doing when he was angry. And I knew more than anyone else how scared Edward actually was, despite his don't-care facade.

I was right; he actually cared about dad's instructions. By the time I was done showering he was already gone; to the garage, I hoped. He didn't really not care, he had just merely forgotten and was too proud to admit it.

A knowing smile tugged at my lips as I quickly dressed up and went to prepare dinner. My hair was tied into a messy bun but it still dripped water onto my face. I ignored it as I stood on the tips of my toes to reach the cabinet at the top.

Once I opened it, I blindly reached into it and grabbed a can, praying that it was the canned spinach. It felt a bit too light. When I pried it open, I was disappointed to meet an empty interior. Sighing, I stood on the tips of my toes again and grabbed another can. Canned meat… Also empty. None of the cans in the cabinet had anything.

Frustrated, I dialed Edward's number and tried calling. He didn't pick up. I tried ten more times and when none of them got through, I settled on going to Sam's house.

My palms were way too sweaty. I kept telling myself that it was going to be okay and wiping my palms on my jeans the whole way to Sam's house. When I got there, I took in a few deep breaths before knocking on the door. Almost immediately, someone opened the door.

"You scared me," a petite woman laughed out, opening the door wider, "Hi, Ellie-dear. How's it going?"

"It's going good," I croaked, trying to return her enthusiastic smile. My smile was only half as good, though and I thought that it made me look constipated.

She noticed.

"Any problems with your dad?" she asked, gesturing for me to get in.

"N-no, Mrs Anderson," I replied as I walked in as casually as I could. I had no idea why my whole body was suddenly tense and my palms were growing sweatier by the second. I wiped them on my jeans again and looked around for Sam. Mrs Anderson was still talking but I couldn't hear a word she was saying. In order to throw off suspicion, I occasionally nodded and threw her a sweet smile.

I kept doing that until she patted my shoulder encouragingly and waved goodbye at me before she left. Huh… So I had arrived when she was about to leave? Explains why I had scared her at the door.

I walked up to Sam's room and knocked thrice. She immediately opened the door and stared at me, waiting for me to tell her what was up. The book was in her left hand. It distracted me for a few moments. The gray scale-like cover always seemed to throw me off.

Sam cleared her throat and pulled me back to reality. "There's no food at home, my dad's almost back and Edward isn't picking any of my calls," I mumbled, wiping my hands on my jeans again.

Sam stayed silent for some time before throwing her book onto her bed, grabbing my hand and dragging me to her kitchen.

"Did you tell my mom?" she asked as she picked a dozen of different ingredients and put them on the kitchen table.

"No. I didn't want to stress her out." I decided to help her gather everything because it felt weird just standing around.

"How long till your dad gets home?" Sam asked, putting on an apron and a chef's hat. She was quite serious about dressing appropriately for the job, which always made me laugh. She did look fabulous whenever she did so, though, so I had no complaints.

"Ten minutes," I answered after checking my watch. Sam sighed and started putting random ingredients into a bowl. Before I knew it, she was flipping her famous ultimate French omelet onto a plate.

"No time to make it look dazzling. You have three minutes to get this onto the dinner table. It'll only be enough for your dad, tho. If your imbecile of a brother shows up, tell him that he deserves to stay hungry because he snubbed you. If you get hungry, you can come over. Now GO!" Sam said, shoving the plate into my hands.

I smiled thankfully at her and ran like the wind. This was one of the only times Sam didn't think of herself. It was times like these that I remembered why I always stuck with her.

I smiled as I neared my home's door. Triumphantly, I threw it open and ran to the dining room.

All my happiness was drained out of me when I got there.

"You're late."