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11

I tried to force myself to go to sleep. I was tired. My shoulders ached, my eyes throbbed, my head pounded. A nap would help. But it had been a couple of hours now since my fight with Joey, and I felt bad for calling him a jerk again. I didn't fight with people. I'd never called anyone a jerk. I hated conflict, but he seemed to bring it out in me. But with the next two days looming ahead, cold and lonely, I knew I needed to try harder to get along with him.

I was going to have to suck it up. His foster parents grew drugs in the basement of his house. That was bad enough, but I couldn't ignore the second part he'd said either. The part about how they let him come and go as he pleased. It did sound like freedom, but didn't it really mean they didn't care about him, only the money housing him brought in. I had a feeling, despite his flippant attitude about it, that he suspected that as well.

As I lay there staring at the coffee table in front of me, I noticed a little drawer. I reached forward and slid it open. A single deck of cards sat inside. I picked it up and turned it over and over again in my hands. It took me five minutes to talk myself into doing what I knew I needed to do.

I made my way downstairs. It was still light outside, and would be for another few hours. It really was warmer on this floor. Warm was the wrong word, actually; less cold was the better descriptor. Joey sat exactly like he had earlier. Only this time his left hand propped up his head. I could see the tattoo on his wrist now but wasn't close enough to make out what it was. He looked at me over the top of his book as though expecting me to say something.

"Hey," was my lame response.

When I didn't say anything else, he went back to reading.

Saying hi wasn't why I'd come down here. I forced the next words out. "I found a deck of cards."

He looked at the deck I had begun twisting in my hands again.

"Um...you want to play?"

"What game?" he asked.

I felt like if I gave the wrong answer he'd say no. "I don't care. Whatever you want."

He sighed. "You don't have to do this."

"Do what?"

"You know what."

I did know what. I felt sorry for him, and he could read it all over my face just like he'd read my disgust and fear of him the night before. Just like he knew I was going to go through his bag earlier. Was I really that transparent?

"Treat me like you always have."

"And how is that?" As far as I knew, before last night I hadn't treated him like anything.

"Ignore me. Two more days and you'll jump back on that train anyway. You might as well stay in the habit."

Ouch. "That's unfair. I didn't know you. You didn't want to be known. And I'd say you have it backward. You're the one who does the ignoring. You don't even know my name."

That last sentence must've caught him by surprise, because for the first time his hard expression dropped and he met my eyes. Without his guard up he looked younger, big brown eyes, wavy dark hair, a vulnerable look on his face.

"Addison."

sorry this chapters short next one will be longer <3