Escape

Babysitter?

"Nice one." I hear a gruff voice. I turn around and see Scout's brown, wet hair. She leans against the wall. I smile a little.

"I see you look better." Better is relative. She looks clean, yet she's still even paler than usual, and her eyes are dilated, and no longer look calculating, but just crazy, tired, and post drunk.

"You- You have no idea how many girls have tracked us down and I've had to answer the door and push them out the door."

She staggers in, and falls onto the couch next to Ryker. "Is he ok?" She asks, looking down. I shake my head.

"No. He's got a major hangover." Ryker makes a disgruntled noise and falls off the couch, flailing.

"Ow." He says meekly. Scout groans and throws a blanket over him.

"Hey Seth? Could I ask you something?" Scout asks, her head swaying back and forth. I nod my head. "Sorry if it sounds needy, but you saw I ran into that wall. I have a pounding headache. I was wondering if you could get some water and ibuprofen for me... please?" She adds the last word as a question.

Mind. 

Blown. 

Scout was nice and said please. I just nod, mute to all sound in surprise. I go and get the entire bottle of ibuprofen, knowing we would need it, a plastic bowl, and a water bottle. I carry the three things in, tossing the two items to Scout and placing the third in front on Ryker.

Thud. Thunk. "Ow. Damn Seth. You should know not to throw things to a person who was previously drunk. You little bastard." She says, back to her usual self.

"Hey Jason..." I pause, looking around. Behind me, Jason is holding up his lighter, a little flame on it. His eyes are fixed to the flame. His hand holds the piece of paper containing the number. He laughs like a child. He drops it onto the lighter and cackles in laughter.

"Jason!" I cry, taking the lighter from him. His eyes go sober almost immediately. "Give. The. Lighter. Back." He says. I shake my head.

"But I have this number I still need to burn." He pouts. I sigh, rubbing my temples.

"What if you want that number?" I ask, looking at him. What the heck? 

"I should call it." He rushes over and picks up his phone. He punches in the number before I can stop him.

"Hey there... Jordan." He slams the phone down, looking with wide eyes, a deer in headlights. "I'll be in my room." He rushes away, his head down, and he leaves his phone on the counter. I save the number and put it down. The door slams and a thunk tells me he slammed his head onto the door.

"Moron." I mutter, before turning back to the two.

"That's right Jason, you better run!" Ryker calls, throwing his hand out.

"He wasn't running from you, dumbass." I murmur. Ryker buries his hand and head back in the blanket. That lasts two seconds before he groans and heaves out more alcohol into the plastic bowl.

Scout growls and picks up one of my favorite romance novels, aiming it at Ryker. "No!" I call, catching it before it nails his head. "I just saved your goddamn life." I mutter to him, but Ryker doesn't care one bit. "We don't throw books. Especially not Cade's books." I add. She huffs, grabbing a lamp this time, unplugging it. I drop the book onto the chair, and snatch the lamp. We wrestle for it, but me being the sober one, I win. "No throwing things!" I shout.

"Stupid romance novel reader." She grumbles.

"Shut up. To loud." Ryker moans again before heaving bile into the bowl. Eugh. He buries his head back into the blanket, just a tuft of red hair. I sigh and Scout sits there, drinking water.