The boy and the girl didn't speak to each other for two days. They broke routine entirely, the girl anxious and nervous and unsure how to go on, even though she loved him. The boy was just waiting for her to make the first move.
Three nights later, there was a knock at the boy's door. It was his corrupt friend.
Fuck you the boy said, hand still on the door Go away.
Easy on the language the friend replied It's freezing out here. Let me in.
And the boy almost did. He always allowed his friend in, his good friend. He'd let him trample his filthy shoes all over and eat everything in the fridge. Drink the liquor. Do it up with some whore. It all happened here.
The boy's knuckles whitened on the door edge.
No, mate. Go home.
He started to close the door but the friend grabbed it, frowning. He shouted what the hell? in a way that made the boy want to punch him.
Go home the boy repeated firmer And don't ever show your face here again.
The friend's eyes went black as coals, burning holes in the boy's brain. He started talking about the dark days, the ages of his mourning. His mom screaming and breaking everything. The boy, all alone, hiding curled in his room.
The boy said nothing. The friend stared at him.
Who was there for you? I was there the friend spat You can't get rid of me.
I just did and the boy used everything he had in him to wrench the door shut. It fell with a shuddering slam that nearly shook the damn thing off its hinges.
The boy stayed there, hands on the wood, waiting for the friend to pry it back open and come hurling at him with an axe. But there was no sound on the other side, except for the pad of footsteps after a long five minutes.
The boy slowly let his hands fall from the door.
He was free.
YOU ARE READING
them • ✓
RomanceShe is a flower. Fragile, innocent & full of life. He is wilting. Broken, but pretending. The only thing that can save him is love. They meet, and their stories collide. *
