Drugged Hearts

t e n » tryston

    

     Darian, a high school close friend, agreed to let me stay in his house's garage for a few days. He said something about his parents being home, so I wasn't exactly welcomed there, but all I cared about was having a roof above my head to protect me from the pouring rain and stacked snow.

     He was a couple of years older, having gone to school a year late and failing eighth  grade, so he was one of the seniors with a license and offered me a ride to school.

     Not having a ride and not wanting to walk in the cold, I agreed.

     Honestly, Darian was a pretty cool guy and possibly the only person who tolerated me other than the guys back home.

     With a brother staying at the hospital for more than three years and parents who wanted him to follow their footsteps in being an artist when he obviously aspired to be an engineer, he was classified as understanding. He just didn't have the mindset that most of the nearby neighborhoods had.

     He understood.

     The sudden burst of light with a loud honk caused me to jolt awake in the matter of seconds, blinking rapidly before squinting at the light directed at me. "Really?" I asked once Darian shut his engine off and stepped out of the car, slamming the door shut.

     "Tried waking you up," he said, shrugging as his smile held nothing but amusement.

     "No you didn't," I said, throwing my head back on the couch's arm rest.

     "Well, didn't want to waste my time nor my energy. Listen," he started, walking to the garage's door, "my parents won't be awake for another three hours or so, so you can sneak into the guest room's bathroom. Just go through the kitchen's door and down the hallway. Last room it is; towels, clothes, all that is set up. You're welcome," he stated blankly, flashing a fake smile that lasted for a millisecond before disappearing.

     Groaning as the faint feeling of pain struck my upright body, I started walking toward the kitchen's back door. The house was dim, the only light being from the tight space between the curtains veiling the windows. I made my way through the long hallways lined with paintings drawn quite deplorable with Prince's signature imprinted on each one. I wasn't surprised they had no family pictures; they didn't have a perfect family nor a perfect life. I mean, how is having to sneak into your brother's hospital room to see him against you parents' will and living under the same roof with people who can't tolerate looking you in the eye because of you being you a good life, let alone a perfect one?

     I washed my face after staring at the faucet for a while, waiting for the water running from the tiny holes to turn warm. Once the tepid water turned to beads running down my whole face, I grabbed the white towel provided and dabbed it against my face, rubbing it dry. I really needed a bath, but my wound had barely healed and washing it would've made it worst, so I decided to give it another day.

     I walked to the hoodie placed on the shut toilet seat that I was wearing the previous day. The tank top I was wearing was smeared with blood, so I clenched it in my fist, waiting until I was outside of the house to throw it in the bin. I threw the hoodie on carelessly, straightening it by its hem as I walked out of the toilet. Once I reached the end of the hallway, I noticed Darian striding down the stairs with his bag sliding off his shoulder. He hopped off the third step, pausing and frowning down at my hand. I subconsciously looked down at it too, though I already knew he was wondering about the shirt. "Erm," I started, averting my eyesight from the shirt, "bloody shirt."

     "Well, alright, badass; throw it outside. The last thing I need is for my parents to find a bloody shirt lurking around." I rolled my eyes, and he went through the kitchen's back door and into the garage with me following. I opened the garage's door with the button on the right as Darian started the engine and went outside - into the freezing cold - and walked to the garbage bin a few step away. Once the shirt was long gone, I turned around to find the car waiting just before me. Sighing, I crossed my arms against my chest for warmth as the cold pierced through the hoodie's fabric and into my paper thin skin and walked into the passenger’s seat. Darian took off and neither said a word after that.