“He wasn’t holding me. He was helping me.”
“He was playing with your hair.”
“I’m really tired, and I don’t feel like fighting.”
“Okay, I’ll stay here until you fall asleep.”
I yawn. “Thank you.”
The last week has been boring. I stayed home from school Monday and Tuesday since I still wasn’t feeling one hundred percent.Ricky and my mom grilled me about what happened that night, but I told them I couldn’t remember. I didn’t want to contradict any story that was already told to them. Everyone coddled me and made sure I was comfortable. Art came to my bedroom whenever Trevor wasn’t around to stay with me for a while. We barely talked, just idle chitchat here and there, but the silence was nice.Maybe I should smash my face into kitchen counters more often. Though I was given a clean bill of health to go back to school on Wednesday, the doctor told me to take it easy and avoid jogging for the rest of the week. It was really hard not to do something I love. I can’t remember a time when jogging wasn’t a part of my daily routine.
The bruise on my eye is healing perfectly, but it’s still a bit discolored. A light scar will be left for sure. Danny did some epic groveling. It was hilarious. He carried my books, brought lunch to the table for me, and asked if I was okay every five seconds when I was in his presence. It’s Saturday again, and I’m determined to go on a morning jog. I rise with the sun, putting on my jogging gear before going downstairs. I walk towards the kitchen to get a drink of water before heading out. Art steps out of the bathroom.
“Good morning,” I say.
He doesn’t return the greeting. There are heavy bags under his eyes. His nightmares must’ve kept him up all night.
“Are you okay?”
He walks by me without saying a word.
I grab his arm. “Talk to me.”
He slams me against the wall, sliding his forearm across my neck. “We are not friends. Got it?”
I thought he and I had an understanding. His behavior is volatile, like a dog that turns on its owner unexpectedly and without provocation. The demons riding him are relentless in their pursuit to destroy him.
“Stay out of my damn way before I fucking hurt you,” he growls.
I drop to my knees when he releases me, gasping for oxygen. He slams his bedroom door shut. How can things change between us within the span of a few days? I clamber to my feet and storm towards his bedroom to demand he tell me what the fuck his problem is. My courage evaporates the moment my hand grasps the doorknob. I know if I enter his bedroom, something will happen that can’t be undone. I don’t know if that’s something I’m willing to risk. Art is a wild card. I turn away a little less excited about my morning jog.
I stand at the door willing her to come in. My body vibrates with energy. My control is hanging by a thread.
Open the door. Open the door. Open the door…I continuously chant inside my head. I swear to fucking God, if she opens that door I’ll be balls deep in her cunt with her face buried in the mattress in less than five seconds. When she releases the door and leaves, I almost go after her to drag her in here whether she wants to come or not. Instead, I punch holes in the wall until my fists bleed.
Thoughts of Cole haunt my dreams until I wake up in a cold sweat, but the end of the dream isn’t the end of my torment. My brain will not shut down—it is on replay, that night running through my head over and over again. I reach for my razor and begin cutting myself, to get my mind off Cole, and it helps for a little while. I don’t know how much longer I can live like this.
I open my eyes to the sound of someone knocking on my door. I’m not good company to be around today, so for the most part I’ve stayed in my bedroom.
“Open up. It’s your favorite cousin.”
I’m definitely not responding to that motherfucker, but the bastard comes in, uninvited. Fuck, I should’ve locked the damn door.
“It’s time to get up, asshole,” Josh says.
I move into a sitting position to face him. “Get the hell out.”
“Daddy dearest is worried about you, so you’re going to participate in Chaos tonight.”
“No, I’m not.”
“Dude, what the fuck did you do to the wall?” He walks over to inspect the damage.
“The same thing I’m going to do to your face if you don’t get out of here.”
“Now, what did the wall ever do to you? You are all kinds of crazy, aren’t you?” He shakes his head.
“Five, four, three…” I count down as I leave the bed. He’s going to look like the wall when I’m through with him.
