“All that I know... Is it just smoke and mirrors?”
- Smoke and Mirrors - Imagine Dragons


I would peek around the room every few minutes as nonchalantly as I could, in search of the duo of familiar faces. I didn’t spot them when I checked, but I still kept looking at inconspicuous intervals.

“Before we go to lunch, I would like to share a special prayer for those affected by the ongoing flood, please join me.”

We bowed our heads again as he read a handcrafted prayer for the victims.

“Though this rain is falling down, we will not falter. We will remain strong and standing, as the rain pours around us, hand in hand. The Lord knows the way, and although we may not understand the path right now, I’m certain that when this storm comes to pass, we will. Lord, please care for those unfortunate folks affected by this storm, and keep your eye on those in danger. We know you will guide us through this, and we’ll make it to the end to view the glory of your plan. Amen.”

Amen’s echoed throughout the church, and heads raised. Some had tears in their eyes, dabbing at the mascara tears with tissues, and whispering condolences to one another.

Father Davis gave the room a warm smile, and freed us for lunch. I look up, occupied by the beautiful stained glass windows to my right, all illuminated in white pilar candles, when I feel a tap on my shoulder.

I turn around quickly, happily expecting to see Andy or Ashley, but to my surprise, it’s neither. In fact, it’s a middle aged man whose name I vaugely remember being Ricky. More importantly, he’s Elizabeth’s father. My eyes widen at the sight up him standing in front of me, looking less than joyful.

“You’re Asheen Hunter, aren’t you?” He asks gruffly, and I nod hesitantly. Whenever I visited Elizabeth’s house, her parents were always at work, and I rarely saw them, so it’s not surprising that I wasn’t very familiar to him.

“So you’re the kid to attacked my daughter? I thought you two were friends.”

I’m taken back by his blunt question. As a bystander of our friendship, he didn’t feel qualified to demand such information.

“Uh...” I stammer, my mind going blank. “Being friends doesn’t exactly mean that you never fight with each other.”

He looks annoyed by my answer, and I feel mentally sorry that I have no other answer for him.

“So breaking her nose is considered a friendship fight?”

“Huh?” I ask in confusion, “I never broke her nose.”

“Then why is it broken now?”

What the hell am I supposed to say to that? I stare at him, my mind blank, until my Dad steps in. “Is there a problem here, sir?”

“Actually, there is.” He sneers sassily, crossing his arms across his bold chest like a snitch, wearing the smug smile to match.

“I’ve got this.”

I turn to see Ashley beside me, parting the crowd as though he were Jesus parting the red sea. He plants himself in front of the man and glares at him, and as the man opens his mouth to badmouth me, he stammers and his eyes become void of any anger or irritation they previously possessed. I watch with confused eyes as he stammers and finally coughs out a “Sorry.” before shrugging past my Dad into the crowd.

I turn to direct my questioning expression at Ashley, but he’s already gone. I catch a glimpse of him hurrying through the crowd to the front doors.

“What was that about?” My Dad asks in confusion, to which I shrug. “No clue.”

We move with the line into the big lunchroom attached to the backend of the church, and we get lunch. I keep scanning the crowd as carelessly as I can, but I don’t see Ashley or Andy anywhere. Perhaps they’re outside now. During one of my glances, I notice Ricky sitting amongst some of the other snobbier church goers, head down, looking like he'd just seen a ghost... Perhaps he did.

I see a few grateful refugees sitting down to lunch in rain soaked, mud dirtied clothes, and I smile when I see the preppier folks welcoming them with open arms to our small community gathered within the church. If nothing else, God encourages community and protecting one another as though they were your extended family, in most cases. Still, there’s so many judgemental people.

A few familiar faces came over to us as we ate, and filled us in on what was happening around the town with the flood, including some people from the other side of Pendant.

“We drove past Hampton bridge this morning,” Maude Black told us. She’s a short, middle aged woman with flawless orange hair, spun up into a bee hive, with not a hair out of place. “There were some officers out there assessing the damage. Hopefully they’ll begin fixing it just as soon as the water level lowers.”

“How deep is the water level now?” Dad asked her.

“Still rising, unfortunately. It’s almost right up to the edge of the bank. If this rain picks up again today, it’ll be out of the riverbed by dawn.”

Almost every table around us was buzzing with chatter on the flood. It’s disheartening that we have to face hard times like this, but I’m hopeful that we can all stick together through it. Unfortunately, I have this gut feeling it will tear them apart, because fear tears people apart, making them scared of everything they can’t control, and they’re quick to taking it out on other people.

“I’m going to use the bathroom.” I excused myself when I was done, getting up to take my plate to the trash. My parents didn’t pay any mind to me as I made my escape.

As soon as I got outside the lunchroom, and inspected the hall to be sure it was empty of anyone, and I made a lightfooted silent jog to the end of the hall, pulling a sharp right, jogging towards the doorway where they had been earlier. There was no sign of them, now, so I assume that they took my advice and went outside.

I pushed open the door, and stepped out into the cold mist. The wind had picked up, and was blowing soft gusts of damp air against my face as I inspected the outside of the church, then walking briskly towards our car.

There, I found them both leaned against the hood, chainsmoking cigarettes and talking.

I felt horribly out of place among the two biker-dressed badass spirits, who both turned to stare at my preppy form as I approached, all decked out in fancy jewlry and nice accessories. They gave me halfhearted waves, and started lighting up their possibly fourth cigarette that session. I watch them with narrowed eyes, unable to really judge them, since they don’t have lungs to destroy.

“How are you feeling?” I ask Andy, and he shrugs, flicking his ash and shifting his weight so his ankles are crossed, his weird pointed toed leath boots crossed over one another.

“A little better, I guess. I think I need some new surroundings... Reminds me of why I left in the first place.”

More dread weighed down on me, and like before, I ignored it and pushed it to the back of my mind, turning instead to look at Ashley, immediately demanding answers. “What did you do to that guy?” I questioned him with narrowed eyes. He shrugs like Andy did, and avoids eye contact. “I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

“Bullshit.” I snapped, “You keep doing some damn... Memory trick on everyone! To get them to forget things to make it work out for you. What are you doing?”

“Nothing?” He responded like it was a question. “Do you have any evidence whatsoever?”

I opened my mouth, ready to drag Andy into the spin of things, then grudgingly decided against it, opting to glare at him instead. “Whatever it is... I thank you this one time. All the other times? I don’t even know what to think of those.”

“Then don’t.” Ashley suggests nonchalantly, flicking his ash with an indifferent expression. “stop thinking about things that have nothing to do with you and you will feel better, guranteed.”

Anger swelled in my chest and I wheeled towards him, ready to give him a detailed earful when Andy raised a hand to silence us both, lacking complete interest in our conversation. He gives us both a lazy, annoyed, half-lidded stare. “Ashley, if you took your own advice, we wouldn’t be dealing with half the problems we are right now. Now, leave Ash alone.”

Ashley’s eyes flash with anger and he turns on his friend. “Do not take her side over your best friends.” He growled threateningly. “Was she at your side during the past hour when you were having your panic attack? No, she was praising a fictional God with a bunch of mud hippies and orphans of the flood. Does she really care about you? Does she?”

Andy’s expression didn’t change as he listened to Ashley’s rant. He continued to breathe in long, deep puffs from his cigarette, watching the grey smoke curl off his lips silently. He waited for Ashley to complete his argument, before stomping out the cigarette with the toe of his boot wearing a neutral expression.

Ashley crosses his arms, watching and waiting for a response. I watch Andy in confusion and hurt, hurt that he wasn’t going to stand up for me, even this once.

Andy looked Ashley in the eyes for several seconds, before his calm, blue eyes turned furious, and he raised his fist, punching Ashley in the jaw.

I stare in shock at the breakdown, Ashley stumbling backwards, reaching up to cradle his jaw like a kicked puppy before staring up at Andy in disbelief.

“What the hell!” Ashley shouts at him, momentarily forgetting his wounded jaw to stomp forwards and shove Andy’s chest. He remains firmly planted, and shoves Ashley back. “We are done with this shit!” He shouts at him, getting in his face, his normally marble smooth forehead now heavily creased with lines of frustration and anger. The bridge of his nose is crunched up, and there are crows feet growing from the corners of his eyes as he yells. “You do not bring Ash into things just so you can get your way. I know you’re my best friend, I’m not going to forget. Especially not with you screaming it at everyone every ten seconds. I love her, and if you loved me at all, you’d support me. Bring her into an argument one more time, and we’re done. Do you understand me?”

Ashley continues to glare at him, but with far less power. The strength in his brown eyes fade, and he finally looks away.

“Do you understand me?!” Andy shouts, leaning into his face again. Ashley winces, squeezes his eyes shut to control his rage, and gives one curt nod in response.

“Good... Now go home.”

Ashley decided against arguing it further. With heated movements, he crushes his cigarette and leaves without another word or glance.

“I’m sorry,” I blurt out, running my hands through my hair nervously. “I’m getting between you two and it’s putting you at odds.” of course, typical me. Blame myself for someone else’s stupid behavior.

“It’s not you.” He defends, but his voice is rough from yelling. I can tell that it is, he just won’t say it. Surely things weren’t this hard before I showed up. “It’s just... Him.”

He turns to glare after Ashley as he walks away, visibly angry. He abruptly changes the subject.

“How much more ‘church stuff’ do you have to do?”

“Not much... Why?”

“Can we wrap this up and go home. Today was a terrible day.”

Notes

Apparently, thunderstorms give me immense anxiety. :P We had a massive storm here last week that was ripping large limbs off the trees in our backyard. Nevertheless, I am alive! And writing still lol sorry for taking so long, summer usually isn't a good writing time for me.

Shoutouts!

- Saber_Tooth
- CannibleCat