Fragments

4.4

            4.4

            “I don’t want to go home for Thanksgiving.” The wood floor of Roman’s apartment is cool and hard against my back, but I welcome it, opting for it rather than the couch. “I don’t want to see my family and pretend everything is perfect. I don’t have anything to be thankful for, either.”

            He hits the bass drum of his drum kit once and it reverberates through my spine. “You could stay.”

            “In a big empty school with depressed teachers who have nowhere to go for the holidays.” I spread my arms out and stretch my fingertips as far as they will go. If anything, I would much rather stay at Elizabeth Roe’s, alone in my room or walking like a ghost through the empty, quiet halls. But between my mother and all the other people keeping tabs on me, I don’t think I have much of a choice.

            “You could stay here.” Roman hits the drum again and I feel him watching me. “Am I giving you a headache?”

            I shake my head, causing my hair to fan out around me on the floor. “Actually, the opposite.”

            He plays a short, tentative beat, like he’s making sure I’m sure. When he pauses, I realize he’s still waiting for me to answer.

            “I have to go. It’s supposed to help me and all that stuff you find in pamphlets you glance over at the doctor’s.”

            “I thought they were all pregnancy and STD’s.”

            “I spent a lot of time listening to conversations behind closed doors in waiting rooms,” I admit.

            And then it hits me. Roman doesn’t know my past, know what I did – or at least attempted to. He knows the simple Piper he met in the middle of the night and nothing of before. I could be anyone I wanted to be with him, but instead I was me.

             Before he can answer or ask a question, I ask him about Scooter. It was only nights ago but tonight is the first night I’ve seen Roman. When I heard nothing, I wandered out of school and towards his apartment. Number twenty-one wasn’t hard to find once someone on their way out told me I was looking in the wrong place.

            Roman plays a quiet beat but when I turn my cheek to the floor, I can see his face is thinking. His hands move like on auto-pilot, like he’s not really paying attention. Finally, he lets out a sigh and sets his drumsticks down on one of the drums.

            “I’m making sure he won’t be bothering you anymore.” I raised my eyebrows and he gets up, walks towards the kitchen island. “It’s a process, Piper. His head…It’s messed up. There’s not much left in there of common sense and logic, if any at all.” He pours himself a glass of dark liquid and takes a slow sip. “I can give you something to help you get through the holidays,” he continues, “something that isn’t as obvious as getting drunk in front of your parents.”

            At the mere thought of returning to not only my mother, but my separated father for the holidays just for my benefit, I cringe. “What is it?”

            He held up a bag that held contents I haven’t seen since going with Adam to meet Lionel. They shook a little as he rocked them back and forth, like waving a toy in front of a dog. I smiled.

            “A little something to get you by.”