Elijah P.O.V
Watson was quiet. The entire car had been silent since my parents inquired about our sides of the story. How can you be expected to pick up a conversation with that dangling over your head? I felt like screaming, just standing in the middle of nowhere and screaming. Where did Jenny get the audacity to throw such accusations around, knowing how serious they are? I couldn't follow her mindset or how she thought that this would work in her favor. Neither of our parents was going to let accusations like this down, not with that many people present to witness the entire situation. It would be one thing if it were just me. I have pushed Jenny's advances off long enough to no longer be bothered by her pushy remarks and touchy hands, but it wasn't just me who she was messing with. She brought Evelyn and Watson into this. This was bound to happen eventually with how open Jenny has been about her feelings as of late; it just was unfortunate that she had to push it too far.
And while I'm struggling to even comprehend the situation, beside me is someone blaming themselves for it. I might not know Watson as well as I want to, but I wasn't blind to how his hands were fidgeting with his shirt or how he had shrunk in on himself. How I wanted to assure him that none of this was his fault, that Jenny was a ticking time bomb, and that she just happened to explode now, but the moment I tried to say anything, my tongue felt like it weighed a ton, and I started second guessing myself. The last thing I wanted to do was make him feel worse, to further convince himself that he caused this when he didn't. If anyone in this car was to blame, it was me, not him. I'm the one who should be worrying about my family's reputation and cursing myself for even putting it at risk, so why was it Watson beating himself up over it?
I ask myself that, even though I already know the answer.
By the time we arrived back at the house, things had only seemed to get worse. Five minutes before we arrived, Dad got a phone call that turned into an argument. He was still on the phone when the limousine stopped. Dad stormed out of the limo, shouting angrily at whoever was on the line. We all knew what the call was about; it would be hard not to understand. My mother tried again to comfort us, but like my father, Watson and Evelyn hurried out of the limousine, leaving me alone with Mom. I could see it in her eyes; she was evaluating me, thinking about the possibility of her son being a perpetrator of sexual assault. It hurt to think that my mother, the woman who raised me, could even remotely think that I could do such a thing. As much as I wanted to try and convince her that nothing Jenny had said was true, I knew that nothing I said would hold much ground. I removed myself from the situation, leaving my mother to sit alone in the limo and collect her thoughts. It was hard, given that all I wanted to do was lean my head on her shoulder, for her to tussle my hair and assure me that everything was okay.
I closed the limousine door, leaning against the cool metal as I tried to compose myself, fighting off the urge to cry. The chilly atmosphere was more peaceful than the chaos irrupting inside my mind and world. At least, it was quiet until my phone began to buzz softly in my pocket, a stream of texts coming in one by one, all from the same number.
From Jenny.
Seeing her name pop up on my phone after what she had just done made me want to hurl the device as far as I could, a feeling that only intensified after I struggled to read the messages she had the audacity to send.
'Baby you pushed me to this'
'Why don't you just come back over and we can work something out (kissing emoji, blowing emoji, and an eggplant)'
'Come on, I have the perfect idea on how we can make up'
'You know I was only messing around'
What does she not understand about me having no interest in her?? In what world does she think that I'm going to visit her for.. for... that?! After the allegations she staged tonight, the last place I'd ever want to be is with her. Instead of throwing my phone, which still sounded tempting, I screenshotted the message stream, which happened to show some of her previous unanswered harassment, and reopened the car door, startling my mother. She tried to ask me questions, but I ignored her, placing my unlocked phone into her lap, still opened on the message stream, and walked away.
If she didn't believe me before, hopefully, she does now.
The house was on the verge of silence when I walked inside; the only sound resonating through the halls was the muffled argument still taking place; only Dad was nowhere to be seen, likely dealing with the call in his office, where he thinks we cannot hear. My sister was nowhere to be seen, but I could faintly hear a violin being bowed. The only person left unaccounted for was Watson, and I wasted no time hurrying up the stairs to locate him. He was in his room, only he was rapidly grabbing his things. I knew what he was trying to do, run away from the problem, only he didn't have anywhere to go or turn to. It hurt to think that he felt like the only thing he could do in this situation was run away, but I also knew that this was his fight or flight instinct kicking in, and that isn't something that just goes away, especially not after years of abuse.
"What are you doing?" I asked softly, not wanting to startle him. I wanted to hear him say it himself and not jump to conclusions.
He froze like an opossum in headlights. He didn't say anything for a moment, and it made me reacknowledge how little Watson had moved into the space. All of his belongings were kept in the same bag he came here with, and of the few items that managed to escape the bag, they stayed in a small corner of the room, never straying or cluttering. If I didn't know any better, I'd think this was a hotel room, and he was an overly tidy guest, but this wasn't a hotel, and he wasn't a temporary guest, at least, not if he didn't want to be. I thought he knew that.
"I'm packing," Watson blurted out, continuing what he was doing when I first walked in, only faster. I don't think he expected to get caught, that he planned to slip out while everyone was distracted and disappear. To not even say goodbye. "I can't stay here anymore."
"Why not?" I tried to follow his thought process, to figure out if this was stemming from something other than the party, but my mind was going blank.
He threw down a shirt, looking at me with wide, frustrated eyes. "'Why not?' Elijah, were you not there tonight, or am I imagining the entire thing? You saw how they treated me, how they criticized your family for taking me in," He bit his lip, which was slowly beginning to quiver. "Tonight was my fault, I-"
"It wasn't your fault!" I interrupted. I moved further into the room. "How can you think that this is your fault? You did nothing to warrant what happened; in fact, you're one of the victims!" I wanted to shake that into him, for him to accept that he was free of fault, but looking into his eyes, I could see he didn't believe me. "You don't have to leave because of that."
"I do, though!" Watson shook his head, waving his hands around rapidly. "This place, your family, I don't deserve any of the kindness that I have been shown! Especially when their kindness is starting to impact them! You got accused of sexual assault today. Do you know how serious that is?! That wouldn't have happened if I wasn't there; how am I the only one seeing that?!"
"How do you know it wouldn't have happened?" I demanded. "She had been harassing me for months before this party; it was just the wrong place and the wrong time. Sure, she doesn't like you; she doesn't know how amazing of a person you are, but her reaction tonight was one of jealousy because instead of fueling her ignorant fantasies, I've been spending time with you," I said it. I meant it all, too. Spending time away from that crowd has opened my eyes to what real friendships should be and how toxic they are. "I can't stop you if you truly want to leave, but I can ask you to stay."
He looked shocked. I felt shocked. I didn't expect myself to say all that, but it was the truth, and I think he needed to hear it. Tears began to slip down his face as he shook his head slightly.
"I feel like an imposter here like I don't belong," He confessed softly, his tears pattering onto the floor. "This is all more than I deserve, and every day, I feel like I'm one day closer to getting kicked out."
"My family would neve-"
"But they could!" He snapped, rubbing at his tear-stained cheeks. "They could wake up and decide that they no longer want to shelter a messed-up kid with emotional baggage! Do you know how much that looms over me? I will never be able to repay your family for their kindness, and I don't want to push that kindness too far!"
I took a deep breath. He was right, of course. If I was in his shoes, I'd be worried about the same things.
"My parents adore you," I said softly, looking at the small bag behind him. "You saw them tonight; they didn't stand up for me; they stood up for us," I locked eyes with him. "I want you to promise me that you won't leave without telling them how you feel."
"Bu-"
"No buts. Promise me?" I needed to hear him say it to confirm that he wouldn't disappear in the middle of the night. I wasn't the one who could soothe his fears; my parents were.
He looked conflicted, but I could tell that he didn't want to leave; he was just afraid to stay. But in that moment, he promised and took his word for it.
"I promise."
I stayed and watched him put the bag back, a wave of security rushing over me. What would have happened if I had been ten minutes late? Would he have disappeared into the night? The thought scared me, and it was for that reason that I was hesitant to leave him alone. Scared to never see him again.
"Do you want to watch that movie? I know it's late, and we don't have to if you don't want t-"
"I'd love to," Watson smiled, and for a moment, I thought my heart stopped. "Your room?" I could only nod.
We had watched movies in my bedroom before, but for some reason, this time felt different. A good different. We sat on my bed, watching the movie in silence. But it wasn't awkward, it was the kind of silence that felt right, like words weren't needed.
We both fell asleep side by side.
I woke up with him in my arms . . . and realized that I never wanted to let him go.
A/N: GOD I JUST WANT THEM TO KISS ALREADY!!