the populars | damon

11

DAVID

The two of us were frozen, staring with wide eyes at the mess that surrounded my parents. I could feel the oscillations of my heart vibrating against my rib cage, my stomach growing seasick and churning with nerves. Clueless as to what to do or say or think, my vision began jumping from one item to another.

What was worse? The array of clothes of Simon's that sat at their feet, or the opened letter from the school about my fight with Jimmy, or the half-empty bottles of alcohol that clinked as my father took a step forward. Or the fact that a book was in his hand.

"What the hell do you think you're playing at, David?" He shouted and I recoiled into Simon, who was stood directly behind me. I felt my back hit his stomach and somehow this tiny bit of skin-on-skin contact calmed me. He picked up the painstakingly familiar leather bound paper and flipped it onto a recent page, his eyes aflame as he read aloud. "He let me smoke one of his cigarettes today. When he looks at me I feel as though nothing else matters and when he sneaks in at night, he kisses me until my lips hurt and runs his fingers down my stomach-"

"You have no right to go through my stuff and invade my privacy like this." I shakily blurted, eyeing up the alcohol bottles and Simon's hoodie that had his last name embroidered across the back. Anger rose to my throat as their action soaked in — they read my diary.

"No right? This is my house, David! So you have no choice but to explain what the fuck you've been doing." My dad roared and I felt a ball of anxiety begin to weave itself into tighter knots in my throat. "Where should we start? How you've been messing around drinking or how you allowed Simon to stay here without our permission? Or how you got into a physical fight and let him beat Jimmy up?" A finger was jabbed in the direction of Simon and I was at a loss for words. My fingers began to tremble as I felt a seasick feeling engulf my abdomen and I was too afraid to even glance back at Simon. My mother, ashamed and gormless, stood at the back of the room, not letting out a single sound.

"He was just protecting me, Jimmy swung at me and Simon stepped in."

"Don't talk shit," my father spat before turning to Simon. "You're a fucking trouble maker. I want you out of my house. Now."

"Don't talk to him like that." I retorted, facing my dad with wild eyes. Standing in front of Simon, I felt a protective instinct I hadn't really experienced before kick in, anger bubbling inside of me.

"David, it's fine, I'll just go." Simon excused, taking a step away from me.

"Don't." I begged before spinning on my heel to face my dad, my tone short enough to make him fine. "Maybe if you and mum weren't arguing all the time we wouldn't be in this situation in the first place."

"That has nothing to do with you!" My dad interjected, clenching his fists.

"It does when you treat me like shit because of it!" I screamed and suddenly a hand was flying towards me. Miraculously I somehow dodged back, stumbling into Simon before my father's hand could collide with my skin. My eyes were swimming with guilt and terror. I knew my dad could get angry like the best of them, but try and hit me? That had never happened before. I scoffed and pushed past my parents and the heap of items, grabbing my diary out of my dad's hands and picking up laptop from my desk, throwing them both into my school bag.

"Where are you going?" My mum yelled hopelessly as I thundered down the stairs, Simon following close behind as he took two steps at a time. I slammed the door, pulling Simon down the driveway as I heaved for air, my hands shaking with a mix of anger and fear that made my head turn light.

"Babe. Stop. Calm down." He demanded once we were on the next street and out of sight, grabbing my arm and forcing me to stop walking. He ran a hand through my hair, his expression forlorn as I struggled to catch my breath. "Calm down. We can go to my dad's, yeah? He won't mind if we stay the night."