The next couple of weeks had been a blur, the same day blending in with the same level of worry, frustration and fear. Peter didn't bother answering any of my calls, any of my texts or any of my house visits. He just cut off any ties with me and would ignore me at school as if a word from him in my general direction would be torture he could not bear. I visited Roman once a day after school, sometimes twice, keeping him informed on the different reading assignments, the different tests he had missed and the latest gossip around school, certain that if he had been awake, he would've rolled his eyes and yawned of boredom for every second of it. I tried researching the killings, but on my own and having no leads to follow, I slowly started to give up; if Peter wasn't going to help me, I wasn't going to do the work for him.
---The thought of Peter and Letha as an item had never bothered me. Considering what was going on, it was rather heartwarming to see them getting closer to each other despite the constant fear and anxiety we were all facing. The reason for the pin of jealousy to burst my swelling heart was caused by the attention he gave her. The simple act of waiting for her at his locker for a chat was a right reserved for his closest and only friends; Roman and I. Now I was like any other students at Hemlock Grove High School, listening in as I passed by, hoping to catch a glimpse of their conversations and make sense of the snippets.
'...might quite pulling this shit if you just stopped fucking letting him?' Peter sighed, throwing some books in his locker. It didn't take a genius to guess who he was talking about which seemed unfair for the situation. Roman did like the attention, that was a fact but faking a coma for the sheer thrill of it was a bit much, even for him.
'This isn't you,' she said, reaching for his cheek and softly stroking it, 'I know you.' Any tenderness she might've seen on his face was disappearing, any emotions draining from his eyes as soon as those words left her mouth. She did not know him as well as she thought and she never could. He shook his head away from her reach and slammed his locker door behind him, ending the conversation.
'Don't make this my problem,' It took everything in my power not to call after him, reminding him caring was not a flaw but rather a requirement in a friendship but he was already gone and I didn't have the strength for a fight.
--The day was as dull as ever, my every thought consumed by Roman. I kept looking back at his empty seat as if he would magically appear, smirking at his comments to amuse the class but most importantly himself. However, as much as I hoped, Roman was not there, thinking of ways to get out of class. Roman was still in his hospital bed, in the middle of his empty room, only breathing thanks to the tubes going in his throat.
As soon as the bell dismissed us, I could not get out of this place soon enough, not even bothering to stop at my locker to leave some books. I had almost made it to the parking lot when Letha called after me, her voice all breathy from the effort. In her condition, it was rather cruel to ignore her and make a run for it, even for me.
'I just wanted to tell you,' she started, pushing the hair out of her face and resting her hands on her knees to catch her breath, 'I appreciate the fact that you care that much about Roman.' I shrugged but she was quick to add, 'Peter cares too. In his own way. He just went to see him, even talked to Olivia!' Adding that last part like a badge of honour, proving him to not be the selfish bastard he was so clearly bent on becoming. I wished knowing he had gone to see Roman changed everything but it did not.
'Peter is a big boy, he can do whatever he wants, it doesn't concern me, he made sure of that.' She chewed on her bottom lip, trying to come up with an excuse for his behaviour though she knew it was not going to change how things were. 'I'm sorry,' I added, 'It's not your fault.'
She nodded and looked at the bus stop, probably glad to have an opportunity to slip away, 'I should probably go,' she gestured to the group of students standing there, the queue larger than usual, 'Is that ...?' She stopped herself realising exactly who it was. Peter was on the ground, trying to cover his face and stomach from the kicks and punches he was receiving.
'He's down! Stop it,' I yelled at the three boys, my voice barely reaching their ears, mixing with the screams of excitement coming from the others students. This fight, though very one-sided, felt more like a public bloodletting than a simple brawl between hormonal teenage boys. Trying to weasel my way in the inner circle, I managed to grab one of the boy's arms before it made contact with Peter's jaw, making him turn around in disbelief. Looking down at his arm I was still holding, I quickly took my hands off of him and took a step back, not fast enough to avoid his fist this time, sending me flying to the ground. Preparing myself for the stomach kick, I shield myself, much like Peter had done, and waited. When the kick never came I opened my eyes only to witness the crowd dispersing and the three boys picking up their bags to get on the bus.
Turning my head to make sure Peter was alright revealed Letha already by his side, tears streaming down her face. Her pregnant state or maybe her last name alone had convinced everyone else to step away and I could live with not knowing which one. Sitting down on the curb, I examined myself trying to look for anything that might bruise or might be hard to explain, all completely superficial compared to the werewolf who was trying to get blood, from a cut on his forehead, out of his eye. After making sure they weren't going to get on the bus and risk another beat up, I made it to my car and drove home, looking forward to putting some distance between the damn school and me.
---The simple act of staying home and relaxing or even, staying home and doing some homework seemed like such an odd concept ever since we moved here. When I was not busy digging up the remains of a dead girl or being attacked by a man in the middle of nowhere, I was keeping an eye on my closest friend, currently in a coma. Whoever said it was easy and carefree to be a teenager never lived in Hemlock Grove or befriended a werewolf. Naturally, Donna did not know any of this apart from Roman's current state and somehow, it made her more understanding of my odd hour's ventures in and out of the house. Afraid she might lose me at any moment, she chose to cherish any moment she had with me, which was oblivious unhealthy but incredibly convenient at times. Informing her I was going over to Roman's house, she let me go with a simple kiss on the cheek. No more lectures about the importance of a curfew or family time. She told me she'll keep him in her prayers and sent me on my way.
Like every evening, I parked in front of the mansion, ready to go in when a text disturbed the routine that was settling in;
'be home an hour before sundown, let no one in or out under no circumstances.'
I let out a chuckle looking outside my car window, looking at the sun already about to set. If Peter wanted to be cryptic about his messages then he'd have to be used to be left on read. I got out and walked to the front door, hoping a butler or Shelley might answer when it opened on a crying Letha before I could even prepare my fist to knock. She didn't stop when she saw me and climbed into the passenger seat of a black car I hadn't even noticed getting here. Taking to the opportunity to get in without having to face Olivia, I closed the door behind me and went straight upstairs, ready to sit on my chair and hope for a miracle for a couple of hours. The sound of shoes going back and forth on the wooden floor is what alerted me in the first place; those were not the sound of high heels and the shoes were not dragged on the floor. Fearing for Roman, I opened the door, grabbed the elephant statue on the corridor's dresser and raised it above my head, ready for my second fight of the day, hoping it would go smoother. Peter turned around, his eyebrows furrowed, looking back from my makeshift weapon to my face, realisation settling in,
'What the hell are you doing?' He yelled out of exasperation,
I put back the elephant on the nearest drawer and crossed my arms on my chest, ready and willing to take him up on his attitude, 'I thought you were an intruder !'
'Why would I be an intruder?' I opened my mouth to point out his absence from our lives for the last couple of weeks but he shook his head, 'Never mind, I don't care. What the fuck are you doing here? I told you to stay inside.'
'Well, technically, I am inside.' This time, it was my time cutting him off, 'And why was Letha crying?' Like suddenly reminded, he used the sleeve of his shirt to wipe out his face. 'The hell did you tell her, don't you know pregnant women are very hormonal ? Why would you want to upset her ?'
'I prefer her upset than dead.' Not offering any other explanation, he let his body fall on the couch and stared at the beeping monitor in front of us. Both of us felt guilty for Roman and we both knew if he didn't wake up, our friendship would never last. I grabbed our friend's hand in mine and squeezed it, hoping but knowing he wouldn't squeeze back. He looked so fragile, so pale, kissing his forehead with the tip of my lips as to not break him, I was the one pacing around the room, trying to figure out our next move. Debating upon leaving Peter to figure all of this out like he so desperately wanted to, I froze when I heard the werewolf gasp.
'What time is it ?' A voice I never thought I would hear again spoke up. Roman blinked a few times, looking around the room and finally noticing the machines. Not only that, but he also noticed the different tubes attaching him to them and tried to yank them out.
'Take it easy man,' Peter warned him not sure what would happen if he was disconnected, 'It's been two weeks since you passed out,'
Infinitely grateful to God or fate that he was conscious, I ran up to his bed and hugged him, the relief washing over me that we wouldn't have to bury someone else. When I finally let go, a few tears were running down my cheeks but my smile explained away how I was feeling. His cheeks now a bit flushed, Roman furrowed his brows, remembering what we were talking about registering the information.
'What? Two weeks ..? Oh, fuck me ...' He paused, 'Wait, when is the full moon?'
'Tonight' Peter answered, looking at the moon through the bedroom's window. I had been so focused on Roman that the thought of Peter transforming into a wild beast tonight had completely escaped my mind. Nodding, Roman carried on taking off the tube passing under his nose as well as the one in his arm, sending the machine into a frenzy. The rapid beeping made way to a deafening silence as the screen died, Peter holding the plug in his hand. 'We should still get a doctor.' He said, already getting his phone out and trying to keep Roman in bed.
'What the hell for?'
'Complications?' I suggested. 'Comas can cause memory lose or something.'
'So I checked out for two weeks and suddenly I'm a fucking idiot?' Did my mother tell you what happened?'
Peter looked at him and simply shrugged, 'she said you OD'd,'. To any that didn't know Roman as we did, it was a plausible explanation; the rich kid snorted too much powder at a fancy party and got what he deserved. No one would suspect that the reason he'd want to stick around would be to take care of his sister.
'Pretty fucking stupid, huh?' Roman was hiding behind his mother's lie, glad he didn't have to think of another one on the spot. 'The thing is ... I made mistakes. I know what I did was wrong, on so many levels, but we really need to do this.' I couldn't believe my ears. The almighty Roman Godfrey was apologising and it only took him to be in a coma for a couple of weeks.
'Do what ?' Peter asked, taking note of the apology but pressed by time to fully lean into the finger-pointing and blame shaming.
'Kill the vargulf,' Roman replied, shaking his head slowly and raising his shoulders like Peter's question didn't make sense, 'Make things right.'
He also didn't waste any time and swung his legs over to one side, ready to get up.
'What are you doing?' Peter put his hands in front of Roman, trying somehow to contain him but there was no use.
'What the fuck does it look like I'm doing?' Catching his arm, Peter let his friend stabilise himself, taking some hesitant steps before fully standing up on his own. 'We both made mistakes and Rose got caught in the middle of it,' He turned his head to me and apologised, again, without ever being prompted to. A nice but frightening change of pace. 'Now that it's out of the way, let's go kill the fucker.'