Transfer

House Divided

I was at the car before James was, and I climbed in (he didn't take his truck with him), buckled in quickly, and stared outside. James climbed in, not saying a word to me, and took off out of the parking lot. The ride home was quiet, I honestly didn't care. Old country music played on the radio.
"You must be p*ssed of, you aren't complaining about the radio." He awkwardly chuckled. I glanced at him with a glare, he looked away, looking uneasy. I rolled my eyes and returned them to the passing scenery outside the window. Another moment of silence passed by.
"Listen, Liz, I know you're mad but-"
"Don't.even." I sharply growled. I wasn't happy, and James' wasn't going to make me see any different.
"I'm trying to explain-"
"YOU aren't going to explain anything to me! I'm talking to Allan at home whether he likes it or not!"
"Liz, just calm down-" What did he not get!?
"I DON'T WANT TO GET TRANSFERRED!" I snapped at him. I didn't care anymore, I stared so fiercely at him. He just stared at me, I looked ahead.
"James...JAMES!" The car screeched to a stop at the red-light, many cars passing in front of us. I clutched the side of the seat, James sighed and looked away.
"Sorry." He mumbled out, looking out the window beside him. The air began tense and he mumbled something under his breath. I didn't ask what, I left him to wallow in whatever he was saying. Once we got home. I got out out of the car. James got out, slammed his door shut, and headed to the garage. I walked up the steps and onto the porch. I looked behind me as James pulled out of the driveway, in his old truck, and sped off down the street. I scowled, "boys are so stupid..." I grumbled irritably under my breath, proceeding to go inside.
"Allan!?" I called out. Nobody answered. I set my stuff down on the couch and realized no one was home. Not even Francois or Oliver. What was taking those two? I went into the kitchen. There was a note on the refrigerator.

"We are going to Andres' house for a study group, see you this evening." I crumpled the note and threw it in the trash. Study my foot! They just didn't want to be around me! Allan had them in on it too, and it made me want to cry. I know they like teasing me and all, but this isn't funny, it was never funny to begin with. I wanted to text someone, or call anybody, but I didn't know who I could turn to, knowing how word travels fast here, no one would answer, and I don't think I could take that rejection right now. It would be different if I knew why this was happening, but I don't!
I fixed a cup of water and suddenly heard the door open and close. I peaked around the corner and saw Allan. Not waiting another second, I quickly approached him and glared at him, he backed away from me until he backed into the couch and fell, sitting down. He couldn't look at me.
"Tell me what's going on!" I said first, he looked away, "Allan, please, talk to me! I can't stand it! Why is everyone treating me like I'm some outcast!?" I asked, "what did I do? Please, at least tell me that!" I pleaded. Allan looked at me, with this sorry look on his face.
"It...it's nothing you did, doll." He said, a little nervously. He never acted nervous. Something was seriously wrong.
"Then what the h*ll!?" I barked at him, getting tired of this shenanigan.
"Look, Lizzy, we don't want you getting hurt! I can't forgive myself for what I did to you! I lost control, who's to say in won't happen again?" For once, his New York accent seemed to disappear. But it quickly came back, "it isn't right, and we aren't putting you through it."
"Are you still messed up about the bloody nose thing? Allan, everything is fine! I'm fine, it wasn't like you did it on purpose!"
"I did do it on purpose Liz! I just didn't realize who I was punching!"
"You know what I mean! I don't care, I told you everything-"
"EVERYTHING IS NOT FINE!" He snapped at me, his turn to stand up and my turn to back up.
"You don't understand anything! You won't ever get it! DO YOU NOT SEE HOW MUCH I'M MESSED UP ABOUT THIS SH*T!?" He yelled angrily, "WE DON'T WANT TO HURT YOU! I DON'T WANT TO HURT YOU! WHY CAN'T YOU STAY AWAY FROM US!?" He almost screamed it at me. I covered my mouth, and the tears started flowing. I couldn't stop it, I felt like an exposed child...what was I doing...I'm not even sure anymore...all these contradicting thoughts raced through my head.
"Allan Jones you tone your voice down!" Francois yelled in fury. At some point, Oliver and Francois had entered the house. It was the clearest English I ever heard the Frenchmen speak. Allan caught his breath, huffing. He looked at me, I looked down.
"See...see what I mean..." He choked out. Oliver embraced me and put his chin over my head, pulling me into his chest. I stood still, tears running down my face uncontrollably. From a collection of Allan's outburst, and today, I just couldn't help it. Francois grabbed the man by his collar and rapidly began speaking in French. He let go, and nodded and Oliver.
"Come give poppet a hug." No. No, I don't want him near me. Not right now. I could never talk when I cried, even trying to stop. Allan slowly came over to me, and embraced me. I wrapped one arm around him, I didn't know...I don't ever know. He let go.

"Sorry..." He murmured, turning and leaving to go upstairs. Oliver handed me some tissue.
"I'm so sorry, Poppet, I'll make it up to you, I'll go start and fix a nice dinner and some treats!" He said, patting me on the shoulder. I wiped my eyes and quickly removed the oncoming snot attempting to slither out of my nose. I always got congested when I cried, it wasn't pretty. now that I had a opportune time to look at him, Oliver didn't look so well either. He looked pale, his hair was frizzy, and his eyes semi-swirled. It was like a very faint mixture of pink and blue, not like how it was when he got mad, when it was clearly visible. His shirt was not tucked in, and the cuffs on his pants were not equal. This wasn't like Oliver, aside from baking, he always kept up his "gentlemanly" appearance. Either Oliver had gotten into a fight or he was really stressed out. Now that I realized it, Oliver's hands were shaking as he had handed me the tissue, and they were shaking even now as he straightened his disheveled tie, and began to go to the kitchen. He couldn't wait to get out of the room. Francois glared at Allan when he had left for the stairs, and once he was gone, he lit up a cigarette. He took a really long drag, and blew out away from me.
"Are you alright, mon cheri?"He asked. It was a genuine question, with genuine concern. I nodded my head. He sighed, and headed for the back porch. In an instant, the smell of vanilla and cake mixing filled my nostrils. Usually, I would find this comforting, but now, all I felt was sorrow. Even though they stood up for me, Francois and Oliver both left the room, leaving me here. They were in on it too, but I could tell they weren't too happy about it. I peeked in the kitchen. Oliver was intensely cooking, like stress-cooking. He didn't look happy at all. I went back into the living room and looked outside, hearing a noise from a certain truck pulling into the garage. I could hear footsteps, now on the porch, and then the door opened. James came in and looked around.
"Liz? Are you all right? Allan just texted me, are you okay?" I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. I shut my mouth, all I could think of was returning to my solitude in my room. I grabbed my bag as I passed the blonde. He watched me and moved as I headed for the stairs. As I began going up the steps, I stopped myself. I calmed down enough to just talk.

"James, all I'm going to say is that it's pretty pathetic that you complain about people ignoring you on purpose and yet...you're doing the same to me. I would never, and have never done this to you. Jokingly, yes, but this....this is just hypocritical. Of all people, I thought I could trust you the most, and yet...here we are." James' face changed when I said that. He frowned, and turned away. I started going up the stairs, and I glanced down before the living room was out of sight, and I watched him glance over his shoulder at me, and he looked downright miserable.

I passed by the rooms of the residents of the house, and noticed that Allan's door was shut tight, and I could hear the TV loudly going on. I rounded another set of stairs that led up to my room. I entered my lonely, dark room and gently closed the door behind me. I dropped my bag and crawled onto my bed, and curled into a ball. I grabbed a pillow and quietly let my tears flow out. I hoped that James would come into the room, that Mattie would come up and hug me and say that this was all over. It never happened, It never would. As of right now, I'm on my own.