FISHER HOME
"Is there something really
interesting up there that I'm not seeing?"
Startled by the intrusion,
Jason
pulls his gaze from his bedroom ceiling and turns sharply to the doorway.
He finds
Molly leaning against the doorframe.
Her hair is pulled back and
she is dressed in a simple gray t-shirt and jeans.
"Not exactly," he answers, sitting
up. "I'm just staring off into space."
She takes a few steps into the room.
"You definitely looked a million miles away."
"I know. I'm just tired, that's all."
Molly examines her younger brother
for a moment. "Are you sure? You look like you've got something pretty
heavy on your mind."
He shrugs.
"Is it
Courtney?"
He hesitates, but finally gives in
with a weak nod.
Molly shoves her hands into the pockets
of her jeans. "Did you guys have a fight last night?"
"Kind of ... I don't know. Can we
just not talk about it?"
"Sure."
"So anyway," Jason says, taking control
of the conversation while he can, "when did you get in last night? I was
thinking of waiting for you, but I just sorta conked out."
"It was late," she sighs. "I don't
even know what time. And it's a good thing you didn't wait up, because
I pretty much climbed into bed and passed out the minute I got in." As
she speaks, she suddenly looks much more exhausted, almost haggard. Jason
notices the deep creases underneath her eyes and the lack of color in her
skin.
"Did something happen?" he asks.
He manages to read the "yes" in her
response, even though the half-shrug and strained nod hardly seem to say
anything.
Something links up in Jason's head,
and suddenly his intensity increases tenfold. "Was it
Brent? Did something
happen with the two of you?"
Molly knows that she shouldn't even
bother trying to deny it.
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