Chapter Fourteen

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Juliette

The next morning, I woke up with Clay's head on my chest, both of us tangled in his sheets, our clothes spread out around the room, and Clay's music still playing. I sighed with a yawn and ran my fingers through Clay's hair, kissing his head and smiling. The sun felt great on my skin. It felt great to be with him. I stroked his cheek softly and he groaned softly, sighing and nuzzling his head under my chin. I smiled and he slowly tilted his head up, looking at me with squinted eyes.

"Hi," I smiled.

"Hi," he mumbled, burying his face into the side of my neck, sighing heavily. "I'm sleepy."

"Then sleep." I chuckled.

"Uh-uh." he grumbled, wrapping his arms around me.

I smiled and stroked his bare, toned back, and his fingertips traced the band of my underwear. I grinned and he gently kissed my neck and jawline, his hand stroking up and down my thigh.

"Clay," I murmured.

"Yes, butterfly?" he asked.

I smiled.

He slowly sat up and looked at me, then smiled at my smile. "What?"

"I like when you call me butterfly."

He chuckled and kissed me softly.

"Hey, lovers," Parson said, opening the door in his boxers. "C'mon, sex freaks, I made breakfast."

"Parson!" Clay cried. "We didn't fucking have sex, what the hell?!"

Clay swore a lot more around Parson. Probably to be cool.

"Sure, sure," Parson grinned and walked out. I smirked at Clay and climbed out of bed, grabbing the sweatshirt I wore from yesterday and pulling it on, pulling my hair up into a messy bun.

"Aw," Clay said.

I turned to him, confused. "What?"

"You're so cute."

I grinned nervously and he pulled on a pair of basketball shorts, pulling me to him and kissing me. I smiled and he picked me up, carrying me upstairs to the kitchen. Olivia and Parson were making out on the counter, and I grinned at Clay.

"Like big brother, like little brother." I whispered.

He squeezed my thigh with a smirk.

"Ay, you two, knock it off." Clay called, and the two laughed and separated to do different things. After four plates were full with food, we went to the living room to watch TV. I laid on Clay who's hand was holding my boob and I was feeding him his breakfast, and Olivia and Parson were doing their own thing that we didn't need to see.

"Wanna go to my room?" Clay murmured. "I want you to draw me something I can put on my wall."

I smiled at him and nodded, and we raced downstairs to his room and ate our breakfast on his bed while I thought of something to draw.

"What about that skull-butterfly?" Clay suggested.

I looked through my sketchbook at the multiple skull-butterfly drawings. I couldn't draw it unless I had a memory of my mother, and I didn't want to be sad right now. Losing one wouldn't hurt. I tore a page out with the skull-butterfly on it and gave it to him after signing it. He smiled and kissed me, then walked to his wall to tape it.

"You're in Portuguese, right?" he asked.

"Yeah, why?"

"Well, Truman said we could make a title if we wanted. What's 'skull' in Portuguese?"

"Crânio."

"What's 'butterfly'?"

"Borboleta."

He smiled. "Maybe that could be your title?"

I smiled and wrote it on my latest drawing. I loved that Clay thought about ways to help me. I didn't deserve him. I sighed softly and laid on Clay's bed, watching him tape my drawing on his wall. He looked at me after putting the tape away and he smiled, sitting next to me and stroking my hair.

"So," he chuckled. "Was that your first make out session?" He smirked.

I swallowed nervously. "I, uh... "

He frowned. "What?"

I looked away. I wanted to tell him everything. But I was too nervous to.

"Juliette," He grabbed my face and turned me to him. "What happened?"

I sighed heavily.

"Was it Sean?"

I didn't respond.

"Juliette," He leaned closer to me. "Did he touch you?"

I closed my eyes.

"Did he do something sexually bad to you?"

Silence.

"Juliette... Did he... Did he rape you?"

I shuddered softly. I hated that word.

"Oh God, Juliette. Why won't you tell anyone, you can't live with them anymore!"

I looked away and a tear streamed down my face. So much for not being in a bad mood.

"Uh, Clay! Jules, there's someone here to see you! Get dressed!" Parson called from upstairs.
I gasped softly and pulled on my pants, Clay pulling on a shirt and both of us going upstairs. I gasped when I saw who was at the door.

"Juliette Harris?" a cop asked.

Mrs. Mangette and Mr. Mangette were behind him and the other officer.

"We're so sorry, Juliette," Mrs. Mangette said softly. "But we can't let you go through this anymore."

"You need to come with us," the second cop said.

I looked at Clay in betrayal. He looked down and closed his eyes. I followed the cops to the squad car outside. We left.

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