Falling - 𝒥𝑒𝓈𝓈 𝑀𝒶𝓇𝒾𝒶𝓃𝑜

Chapter 37: The Black-Eye

Since Luke has been dating a woman named Nicole, he left the diner in my hands. Honestly, it scares me a lot, taking care of it all by myself. Caesar and Jess not being here, only makes it worse.

Luckily, Kirk has accompanied me for most of the night, talking about how his cat always attacks him. At least he is a good friend. After every customer leaves, I clean the dishes before leaving myself, knowing that Jess never does.

A Friday night can't be more boring, probably my whole class would be hanging out and here I stand, working again. At least I do it for a great cause. The bell rings when I put the plates in their usual spot, the door closing harsh.

'We are closed -' I start until I see Jess. His eye completely dark. I sigh, walking over to him but he pushes me away. Whatever.

'What did you do?' I ask confused when he walks up the stairs towards the apartment. I take my apron of and follow him, not caring at all at this point. 'Jess, tell me,' I demand him and close the door behind me.

'I'm sure you already have your suspicions,' he hisses mad and takes a soda from the fridge. I walk over to him, taking the soda out of his hand and force him to look me in the eyes. I have seen this one time before, and that was the day he had fought at school.

I can tell that this time he hasn't fought, he is too confused for that. 'I don't have any suspicion,' I sigh deep but he shakes his head, a sly grimace on it. 'Of course you don't,' he admits after a moment. I follow his gaze when he walks over to the bed, laying his head in both his hands. Something was bothering him.

I take ice out of the fridge and hold it in a towel to lay it against his eye. I knew he wouldn't take care of himself. 'You're Madelaine,' he mumbles.

'At least you don't have a concussion,' I say softer and hand him the ice. 'I mean you are Madelaine, of course you don't have any suspicion. You never had,' he sighs and lays the ice aside with a disapproving glance of me. I sit next to him, wanting him to tell me more.

'What happened?' I ask after a moment of silence. Jess stares at the ground, the gaze in his brown eyes more furious than I have seen before. At least this time, he doesn't react it on me.

'You mean the black-eye or my horrible attitude?' he focuses back on me and I lift my shoulders, whatever he wants to tell me is good enough.

'Rory immediately thought I had fought with Dean when she saw me. She got completely angry over nothing', he says frustrated. 'When did that happen?'

'At her grandmother's house,' he raises an eyebrow but starts laughing after it. 'Unbelievable, I'm trying so hard to please her, to be polite to that woman and then she completely embarrasses me!' His shoulder shake a little, the anger coming up again.

'But you didn't fight him, right?' I ask a little tense. 'Of course not!'

'Jess, I only asked. I believe you,' I say softer when he tries to stand up, but I hold him in place, not wanting him to do any stupid things.

'Everything is about Dean. With Dean she watched other movies, listened to other music. She might forget I'm not that idiot', he remarks and both of us smile for a moment. I lean towards him to take the ice, his gaze caring as he looks me in the eyes.

I wish I knew what he was thinking sometimes. Never did he talk about his feelings like this.

'Take the ice,' I demand him and he listens for one moment, but puts it down only after seconds, focusing back on me. 'I'm acting stupid. I'm mad because of her while your mother -' He doesn't finish the sentence, those two words enough. I sigh and stand up, ready to leave. I can't stay with him.

'My mother is sick, Jess. She might also be dying. I'm not sure what to tell you, I barely know her myself,' I whisper. He stands up also, walking over to me before he realizes this might be wrong. I nod a little at him, knowing he only tries to comfort me but that isn't fair towards Rory.

'Good night, Jess,' I whisper before opening the door. 'Wait!' I turn back to him, seeing him standing helpless in front of his bed.

'Thank you for believing me,' he finally says and I close the door, relieved that for one time, we actually talked like we used to.