Cuts and Bruises

Chapter Fifteen

Apparently, I do, I immediately think. But I'd never admit that to him. 

"So be honest with me here," Vincent says gruffly as he pulls onto the street. "Do you think Trevor has a chance with your friend?"

When I think of how sweet they were being with each other at the diner, a smile subconsciously stretches the corners of my lips. It had surprised me that Jane was so receptive to Trevor's personality, seeing as he isn't usually the type of guys she hooks up with. In short, Jane's type is: asshole. 

"Wouldn't I be betraying the girl code or something if I told his friend?" I tease, glancing over at his features.

Vincent's jawline was somehow sharper from the side, and only intensified when he had that crooked smile on his lips, like he was preparing himself to joke with you. His eyes were focused on the road, but they flashed over to me as I asked the question, and lingered on my face for a moment before he focused on the road again. 

"I think you'll be betraying our code if you don't tell me," He answers simply, confidently, slowly. He glances over once more to see my brow knit together and explains, "You know, our code. You like me, I like you, we're all friends here. We spend a lot of time together, you know. People are starting to talk." 

The turn that the conversation takes jars me for a moment as I blink dumbly and repeat, "People are starting to talk?" 

"Of course they are," He continues confidently, as if what he were saying had no effect on me at all. "And all the time we spend together, all the outside speculation, it bonds us. Therefore, we have a sort of code." 

I couldn't tell if he was just simply spouting bullshit so that I would tell him that Jane likes Trevor, or if he was trying to explain the way our 'relationship' was working. Either way, like most things, I decide to ignore it, and just call him crazy. 

"Your weird tactics aren't going to work to make me tell you about Jane," I tease, but my mind is still reeling over everything he had said. 

Before he can try to explain himself again and send me into another mental spiral trying to figure out what he means, my phone begins ringing in my pocket, and I pull it out eagerly for a type of distraction. When I see my mom's name splayed across the screen, I'm hesitant to answer it in front of Vincent, and ultimately send her to voicemail.

When the obnoxious ringtone ends, it begins once more a second later, and I realize I'm going to have to answer. I glance at Vincent, who was already looking at me out of the corner of his eye, and ask, "Do you mind if I take this?" 

He gestures with his hand for me to answer, and I raise the phone to my ear. "Hi, mom." 

"I'm sorry if you're busy," She begins rambling immediately. "But I'm at the hospital with Danny, and--" 

"Why are you there? His chemo appointment isn't until tomorrow," I interrupt against my better judgement, knowing I was prolonging her explanation, but my heart immediately dropped into the depths of my stomach when I hear her frantic voice. 

"He passed out," She explains. "I was putting the groceries away and he started to get bad pain and lightheaded, and all the sudden he just passed out. I brought him to the hospital right away--" 

"What's the doctor saying?" I interrupt once more. 

"They don't know what's wrong yet," My mom answers in exasperation. "Do you think you can come home for break a few days early? I really need someone to stay with him, and if I miss any more shifts I'm going to be fired. We both know I can't afford to lose my job." 

I press the heel of my hand into my eyes as the waves of concern and stress drown my body, and it's only when I feel dampness on my hands that I realize I had been crying.