Marley had barely said a word about what had happened at the police station the next day. Him, Jag and Archer had gone back to school the next day, and I had imagined that Marley would be too reluctant, even fake a sickie or something, because the whole of the student body would have to know by now.
But he did the opposite.
He got up early, went to the gym, came home and showered. Packed his lunch and books. Said goodbye to dad and I as the honking of a car horn sounded outside. Then left with a determined, dark look in his eye.
Either he was past the point of caring, or people needed to tread lightly around him today.
Maybe a little bit of both. But I would steer clear if I was still at school.
"Hey dad?" I asked when I reentered the kitchen just after Marley had left. "Are you worried about him?"
"No more than usual, why?" Dad asked casually from his place at the table. It was one of those rare days that dad didn't have to go to work absurdly early in the morning, so he could just sit and enjoy a cup of coffee and read the paper without having to think about rushing off to work as soon as possible.
"What if something else happens at school?" I replied, leaning my hip against the kitchen counter.
Someone elses kitchen counter flashed in my mind, but I pushed that thought away as soon as it had come. I was talking to my father right now, the last thing I needed on my mind was the memory of where Flynn and I had enjoyed certain...activities a few nights ago.
"I've already talked to the principal, he's taken into account what's happened, and he's going to have his staff watch him closely today."
"Did he think Marley was guilty."
Dad sighed, rubbing his forehead before replying. "I got the distinct impression he thought so, yes."
I snorted. "Principal Adamson is a dickhead anyway. He always has been."
Dad shot me a playful scolding look. "Did none of my children get along with that man?"
"Marley does." I defended with a laugh. "Well, he did at least."
Dad joined in with my laughter. It died down after a few moments though. "Hey dad?"
"Yeah, kiddo?"
"Why do you think someone planted those drugs? And who?"
I didn't need to hear him voice it out loud that he thought it was Samson too. It was one of those silent, unspoken lines of communication between us, where we both just knew but never talked about it.
"I'm not sure, Harls. But I wish things were different. My boys been through too much to have to deal with this too."
I smiled at the sound of dads voice. He'd always been supportive, always positive. Even after the accident and when he found out Marley hadn't actually been driving, he'd remained supportive, and never once did he act negative. Not once.
Even know, he spoke with pride in his tone about Marley.
"He has." I murmured after a few seconds of deliberating what dad had said. "I'm proud of him. For coping so well, and for so long."
"Me too," dad murmured as he looked back down at the paper. "I'm the proudest."
* * * *
I still hadn't talked to Flynn by the time Marley arrived home from school, and I had blamed it on the fact that I hadn't text or called him because he was working right now, and I didn't want to disturb or distract him from anything important.
The real reason was actually that I was scared, and Flynn had done absolutely nothing to put that fear there.
I had scared myself, and wasn't that pathetic?
I'd scrolled past his name several times during the day, and I'd been so tempted, so damn tempted, but I just couldn;t press the call button yet. I couldn't bring myself to talk to him in case he didn't love me and I'd read it all wrong.
Or in case he did love me, and I'd gotten it right.
I'd even got to the point of re-reading our texts like a pining teenage girl would. He used the winky face a lot. I liked it. He didn't use text slang, with I was insanely grateful for. Grammar was a very good pro on the list of Flynn.
What was I kidding though, Flynn didn't have many cons. If any.
"Hey." I said loudly when Marley entered the house that afternoon. He looked tired, but staunch. His broad shoulders were tight, but his face was smoothed over in that mask of his.
Always the damn mask.
"Hey," Marley replied with a grunt, moving straight towards the kitchen as he dumped his bag and opened the fridge in one movement. I watched him take a swig of OJ out of its container, and didn't even bother to scold him for it.
Somedays, you just deserve to drink out of the carton, you feel me?
"How was school?"
A pause as he swallowed. "Like someone chopped my dick off."
So he'd had a good day. I almost laughed at his choice of words. "You want to talk about it?"
"Nothing to talk about." He grunted again. I hated it when he did that, mumbling his words. "Nothings changed since the last time we talked about school."
"You have." I deadpanned, making him pause. "Marley, if you ever need to just tell someone about it, I'm here, you know that-"
"I know." He said, closing his eyes briefly at the harshness of his tone. "I'm sorry Harls, for snapping. Just...not now, okay?"
I nodded at him in understanding.
He sighed, scrubbing both his hands through his hair. "I'll be in my room, if you need me."
I watched as he took the stairs two at a time, listened for the door that slammed a few secnds later. A small frown had worked its way onto my face, making my forehead feel tight and pinched.
Dad appeared from down the hall about a minute later, the same expression marring his features.
"I just heard all of that from my office."
"I think we should just let him cool off." I responded, taking a seat on the couch again. "He doesn't want to talk about it."
Dad chuckled, shaking his head in dry amusement. I frowned harder as I swivelled my head to look at him. "What's so funny?"
"You two are so alike, it's kind of amusing."
I glared at dad mockingly. "And I wonder where we got our temper tantrums from," Referring to his side of the family tree.
Dad shook his head, a trace of a smile still on his lips. "You got the good looks from me, I blame the tantrums on your mother."
"Let's pretend I believe that-" I was cut off by a shrill ringing on the cushion beside me. Looking down at my phone, now illuminated by the incoming call, I gulped and bit my lip at the name across my screen.
I heard dad walk away before I picked up my phone with trembling hands.
Why was I so scared right now? I'd done more than talk on the phone with Flynn, way more. I mean, for petes sake, we'd had sex in his kitchen.
If I couldn't answer this call, I was a pussy.
The ringing stopped, and it was official. I was a pussy.
Sighing as the conflicting emotions of wanting to run to Flynn and run away from him at the same time flashed through my mind, I stood and left the lounge, my phone staying firmly on the couch. I had to think about this more, think about Flynn more.
As I paced the hall, my thoughts went into overdrive.
Did I love him? That was obvious. Abso-fucking-lutely.
Could I see myself with him down the track? Well, this was embarrassing, but I'd thought of my last name being his on more than one occasion.
If we stayed together, and it turned out he did love me, what would that mean?
That was the question. To be or not to be. Shakespeare had a damn fine point, didn't he?
But then there was the other facters. His job, for starters. He'd be moved around, up the ranks, and that would mean having to leave town. I couldn't leave, not right now anyway. Not with Marley and dad here, just getting their lives back on track.
They needed me, and I needed them.
If all of this did happen, though, and we moved away together, what would I do? College had been my dream, but I'd kind of given up on that one and now all I knew was the diner. I couldn't offer him anything other than my waitressing skills.
There was plenty of other woman out there who would be so much better suited to him.
But why, when I thought that, did my body go cold? The thought of Flynn with someone else already had my heart feeling the pinpricks of pain.
The last few months after meeting Flynn had changed me, and I believed that wholeheartedly. I had walked around pre Flynn, a little lost and numb on the inside. Enjoying life had never been at the top of my list. Getting through? That was always number one.
But I had started to feel alive the minute he stepped into my life. Or pushed me into the back of a squad car, whatever way you wanted to look at it.
I'd become me again, mostly because of him, and I was afraid that I would lose that again if he was gone.
So I had myself quite a predicament.
Half an hour later, my phone rang again, and it was Flynn. I was about to press 'accept' when the call ended and my mind just replayed what I was over and over in my head.
Pussypussypussy.
I didn't even like cats. Or vaginas. So my inner voice calling me one? Harsh.
By the third time he rang, I had worked myself into a sort of state only a good slap across the cheek or a cold bucket of water would bring me out of. Everything was screaming at me to pick up the phone, to call him, to love him.
Then there was another part pulling me away, making me question why people even bothered with all of this love shit if this is what we went through.
I was about to pound my head against the wall when a hasty set of knocks pounded against the front door, and everything in me exploded.
Walking over to the door, I knew it was him. I could just feel it, feel him, through the solid oak. Heart in my mouth, about to fall out and spill onto the carpet, I gripped the door handle, flinching in fright when another round of knocks vibrated the door.
And then I wrenched the door open, not prepared for what I saw.
"Harlow Micheals." Flynn growled, his eyes dark and beautiful and dangerous. "Why the fuck have you not been picking up your phone-"
Something blond and unwelcome suddenly shoved past him, stepped into the house so aggressively Flynn frowned for a few seconds, catching himself as he stumbled a few steps.
And then the devil herself started yelling.
"Alex Micheals, come out here and tell me why I just read in the paper about our son having drugs stashed at school!"
I looked up at Flynn, my nerves and emotions and everything making up a human body shot to shit right now.
"This isn't a good time, Flynn."
He grunted, shovelling his way inside the house as well. "You don't say."
This was only going to end in tears.
* * * *
Two chapters in one day! (: I'm proud, I hope you are, and this one is a little longer (:
So Flynn's mad, Harlow's a mess, her mother's raging, her brother's silently brooding, and Sophie's still not here.
I can't wait for the next chapter ;)
Stay tuned! I think you'll like what's coming next...
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