Sugar High

Chapter 20

Could they really be that good of actors? I doubt it.

While I am contemplating what just happened, we arrive in front of my room. Doug unlocks it and looks like he is going to shove me in, when I put my hands up.

"I know, I know." I say calmly as I walk back into my plush prison.

______

"Lily"

My pillow disappears. I roll over in my bed, trying to get comfortable after losing my primary head support.

"Lily"

This time something jabs into my ribs. I roll over again, trying to find the original position that I had fallen asleep in.

My eyes shoot open. I don't remember getting into bed. I could have sworn that I fell asleep on the floor. Just as quickly as my eyes were opened, they are shut again when a pillow smacks into my head.

"Lily!" This time, I know that the hushed yell is not in my head. Someone is in my room and likely they are trying to smother me with a pillow. I go to scream when a hand is put over my mouth.

"Don't scream, it's me. It's Daniel." Pillow in hand, there he sits. Bruised face and all. He stares back at me with a flashlight illuminating the space around us.

"What are you doing here?" I sit up and look around, surely they will notice him being gone. Not to mention the light that he is currently using that cuts through the pitch black like an eye sore.

"I had to make sure that you were okay." He looks over my face, wincing slightly as he does so taking in the cut that his mom had left. However, based on the multiple injuries on him compared to my one, I am not the one in need of a check up here.

"If I'm okay? Look at you." I go to touch his face, but he stops me. I drop my hand, "How did you even get in here?"

He chuckles, "Secret tunnels."

"Of course." They would obviously have some of those in a place like this. Something he would know since he has likely been here before this whole mishap.

"Some rescue, huh?"

"What?"

"That's what happened, they caught you trying to get in here." Oh, yeah, I was supposed to be meeting Daniel in the meatpacking district before getting caught by Jason.

"Not exactly."

"Then how did you get here?" He makes a confused face. A face that I am so used to seeing, that I could almost cry at the familiarity of it.

"Jason." I state.

"What'd he do?" His face darkens, the confusion long forgotten.

"Nothing," I assure, "I stole his truck, something that he wasn't too happy about."
"That's it? Just because you took his car?"

"Well not exactly."

"Then what else?" I look him over. Take him in. See the boy that I have had countless lunches with. The boy that sat with me while I was studying. The boy that would braid my hair when he was bored.

"Okay so..." I tell him everything, excluding the sugar trade incident and anything to do with Kane. It feels wrong to talk about him with Daniel for some reason.

I finish my tale with a yawn.

"Wow. Just wow." He looks at me with new eyes, "You've been a busy bee haven't you?"

"I did what anyone would have in this position." I answer honestly.

"Not everyone." I think I hear him mumble.

I yawn again, my eyes have since become a lot heavier after my bout of storytelling.

"Here." He lays down, indicating for me to follow. When I do, he wraps his arm around me, an action that he has done a million times before.

"Shouldn't you get back?" He can't be caught here. I don't know if he can handle a round of two with his dad.

"I'll be gone before you know it." He gives me a reassuring smile.

Cuddling into his arm, I turn back over waiting for sleep to come.

It never does.

______

After the fourth attempt at trying to fall back asleep, I sit up again. Daniel doesn't know this because he can sleep anywhere at any time, but I never actually sleep during our naps. I never can get comfortable.

He still has yet to leave, so I take this time to look at him. People can hide anything when they are awake, when they are alert. However, when they are asleep, they are defenseless. Their guard is let down.

Since it is closer to morning, a small hue of light is coming through the window. It is just enough light to allow you to be able to see in the room, but not enough to wake you up from a slumber.

With his face relaxed I can see the true colors of the bruises. One on his eye, a couple decorating his cheek, a cut through his lip. This time I can't stop myself and lightly touch one of them.

He doesn't flinch, doesn't even wince the slightest at the contact.

That's weird. He didn't want me to touch him when he was awake, more than likely because of the pain, but when he is in his weakest state he doesn't feel anything. Also, he sleeps surprisingly well for someone that has just had the shit beat out of them.

I pull back and look at my finger. It's dirty.

Looking back over at the sleeping boy, I decide to try something. Licking my finger, I run it gently down one of the many bruises on his face.

The bruise is now smudged.

Interesting. Now, I don't know about you but my bruises can't be scrubbed away.