Love Me Back

5

Damon

When Emory's dad died, her mom spiraled.

Ri was only thirteen, watching her mother slowly deteriorate and destroy herself feeling like she couldn't do anything to stop it. I remember the first night after her mom was first sent to rehab, Emory didn't go to school for three days. She always go to school, and if she doesn't she lets someone know in advance.

After school, on the third day when she still hadn't answered any of her texts, I marched right up to her front door—what I should have done on the first day—and pounded on it.

"I'm over here, sweetheart," I heard her call from above, and saw her, a cigarette in one hand and a bottle of whiskey in another. "Hey," she said. I wasted no time trying the doorknob and ran upstairs once I knew it was unlocked.

"Emory—" I tried to start.

"Stop. Don't you dare," she said, her voice cracking. Her eyes were red rimmed, and the hand holding the cigarette was trembling.

"Emory don't do this to yourself," I pleaded, walking toward her. I reached for the bottle, but she turned away, tucking it close to her.

"I'm just smoking a cigarette, Damon."

"And the bottle?" I inquired. It was half empty, and I knew that if she took even one more sip she would pass out. "You've definitely drunken some of that bottle."

She turned to face me, cigarette between her lips. "Damon, stop it—"

I wasted no time reaching forward, snatching the bottle from her hand. I threw it against the ground, and she screamed at me, the cigarette fluttering to the floor. I snuffed it out quickly. "What the fuck, Damon? Why would you do that—"

I pulled her to me, ignoring the pain when she hit at my chest, as she called me an asshole and a piece of shit. Soon the yells turned into cries of, "I could have helped her" "I could have done something," and all I wanted to do was march right up to her mother and kill her.

Soon enough, the cries turned into sniffles, and the sniffles turned into soft breaths. I picked her sleeping form up, and laid her down on the bed, tucking her in. I knew I should have left, but I didn't. Instead, I went under the sheets and pulled her to me.

I felt at home then. That feeling still hasn't gone away, as she lies on my chest, watching a horror movie Ella chose. The Conjuring, I think. I can't focus on anything right now, just on my girl on my chest.

Well, my girl to me. Thank God she can't read minds.

"Damon?" I hear Juliette whisper from beside me. I look up and see her lying on the couch, still looking at the screen.

"Yeah?"

"I want to go for a smoke. Can you come outside with me?"

I sigh, knowing that there's no point in telling her no. We've tried hiding the packs, her cards. She always manages to get her hands on one. She's getting better than before, though, and I'm proud of her. I tap on Emory's shoulder, and she lifts her head to look at me. Her hair is slightly disheveled, and her face is sleep ridden. "Why don't you go upstairs, angel. It's late, and you have to visit your mom tomorrow, don't you?"

She rolls her eyes but peels herself off of me and walks upstairs. Killian glances at her, then at me, confusion in his eyes. I give him a look that says, I'll-explain-later, and stand up, waiting for Jules to stand and grab her pack from Killian's backpack, to which he gives me a panicked glance, but doesn't say anything.

"I see the way you look at her," Jules says once we get outside. She places the cigarette between her lips and lights it, then hands her pack to me. "Don't let me smoke anymore until Friday." That's two days away.

"What do you mean by that?" I ask.

"You look at her like she's the last woman on the planet—better yet, you look at her like she's an angel sent from heaven," she explains with a shrug. "I think it's cute."

For some reason, I don't feel like denying it. I've been in love with her since we were kids. "Thanks, I guess."

"You should tell her."

"Hell no."

That makes her laugh. "At least try."

"You tell Ella how you feel, and I'll think about telling Emory."

That shuts her up. For a little bit, at least. "You guys would be really cute, though."

"Juliette, please."

"Fine."