Chapter fourteen
Crap.
This wasn't good.
I followed her into the family room prepared for an extreme motherly yelling. And to be told to pack my bags.
"I'll leave whenever you want me to," I blurted out.
She turned around suddenly. "Leave?" she questioned. "Why would I ask you to leave?"
"Because I caused the fight," I said miserably.
"Rory, I don't know what happened. And if you don't want to tell me yet, I understand. But I just want you to know, this wasn't your fault. This feud between Malcolm and Calvin has been going on for four years. It was only a matter of time before one of them snapped."
"Malcolm's held a grudge for four years over a girl?" I inquired.
"Calvin was never a good kid. He was Malcolm gone bad. I assume you know what happened with Annalise ?" she paused.
I nodded.
"That wasn't all that happened. Now, the boys will never tell you this, but, Malcolm and Calvin had a little competition that was to competitive. Annalise was icing on the cake for that one."
I sat on the sued baise couch stumped taking it all in. So it wasn't my fault? I wasn't to blame that everyone got hurt and could have possibly died?
"Rory, I understand this has been a very, um eventful day, but maybe you should go take a shower and then we'll talk some more. Can I just ask one thing, did he hit you?"
I nodded. "He was going to hit Malcolm in the back of the head and I pulled him down and to the side dodging the wooden blank. It hit me instead."
Then she surprised me and pulled me into a hug. "If you ever want to talk about anything, you can always come to me," she said.
We pulled away and I smiled. "Thank you," I said gratefully. I turned away to go upstairs and take my shower when she said, "Rory, one more thing, be expecting your mother's call."
I groaned and walked up the steps thinking about everything she had just said.
When I walked into my room, the suitcase was still open from when I was attempting to unpack. Quickly, I grabbed my shampoo, conditioner, and soap from one of my suitcases and walked into the bathroom, shutting the door behind me with a creak.
All I could think about was the fact that Malcolm and Calvin ha a feud with each other for four flipping years. Seriously, who keeps a feud for that long? I'm a girl and I don't even do that!
And Leo. He threw the first punch. Why? I part of me wondered. But the other part of me didn't want to know.
But the fact that Calvin had kissed me stood out above all others. Calvin had kissed me. On the lips. In front of my crush. The freaking jerk kissed me!
Just fan- freaking- tabulous.
~>~>~>~>
Once in my room after my shower, I checked me phone and saw 19 missed calls from mom and 32 voicemails. Well I think it's safe to assume that Mrs. Easthom had told her.
Not even bothering to listen to the voicemails, I dials her number and he picked up on the first ring.
"ARORUA ELIZABETH ANDERSON!" she screeched, using my full name which I loathed unconditionally. "WHY ON EARTH DIDN'T YOU CALL ME WHEN THIS FIRST HAPPENED?! PLEASE TELL ME HE DID NOT RAPE YOU BECAUSE YOU ARE GETTING AN ABORTION IF HE DID! That bastard is getting sued if its the last thing I do . . ." She trailed, probably forgetting I was even there.
"Mom, please. Calm down. Seriously, it was nothing," I lied. As if on cue, my head started to throb.
"I knew I never should have agreed to this. If anything happens again, you are coming straight home! That Leo boy was always getting into trouble . . ." She ranted.
I took that as a good conversation ender, not needing any more scolding, and knowing that my heads sudden throb was because of her, I said, "Um well, love you Mom. Bye." And him up the phone.
I decided it was as good a time as ever to get ready for bed considering the fact that it was 10:00.
I threw on a black pair of Victoria's Secret caprices, and an old purple theatre top that said 'page to stage' and had a picture of the drama masks, then pulled my damp dark brown curly hair into a loose ponytail. I was about to go downstairs when I saw the screen of my home flash.
The caller ID read 'Dad' and if inured I should probably answer. After all, he wasn't to ecstatic about this whole situation either.
"Hey, Dad," I answered casually.
"Hey Rory. So are you having a good time in North Carolina?" He asked, though it sounded forced.
"Yeah," I replied, and in all honesty (fight aside) I was.
"Any trouble?" he inquired.
"No," I lied, tensing up a bit.
"Alright, so what how was your day?"
At this, I knew I had to go. There was no at I could go without telling him about the fight. And a furious Dad, was much worse than an angry Mom.
"Um, gotta go Dad, we were, uh, just about to watch a movie. Talk to you later," I closed hanging up.
I stepped out of my room, going to head downstairs when I ran into someone. Literally.
Leo.
In a towel.
"Sorry!" I exclaimed, looking away. Oh crud. Oh crud. Oh crud. Oh crud, I thought. Awkward.
He chuckled. "I'm fine, Ror, I'm decent."
I looked up, and hoped I didn't drool. He may have looked slightly scrawny, but he was ripped.
Six pack abs, and muscles were what I saw. But as my eyes reached his face, I gasped.
He had a black eye, and the other was swollen. Cuts and bruises were all over his face.
"I - I'm so sorry. How- uh, what hurts the worse?" I blurted out.
He paused a miner before answering.
"My head."
"Me too," I agreed.
He sighed, "Rory, this is all my fault. I dot even know how to apologize for this. Really, I'm sorry," he gushed.
"It's fine. Really. It's - it's just a little headache." Okay so maybe I lied about the headache part but he felt bad here.
That's when he pulled me into a hug, wrapping his arms over my shoulders. I breathed in the scent of Pine in his black curly hair as I leaned in and put my arms around his bare muscular back.
"I'm so sorry," he told me. I didn't reply because, what can you say in this situation?
He pulled away abruptly then left.
Wait, what just happened? I thought. I hugged Leo. When he was shirtless.
Ok then. With that I went downstairs.
~>~>~>~>
I can certainly say it was a sight.
Ice packs were laying everywhere, along with numerous first aid kits. It looked like a hospital had thrown up an left me to clean up the mess.
Just then Nicolas came and grabbed an ice pack. He was still in the blue shorts we whore this morning (which were now covered in mud, dirt, and blood), but his top was off revealing a six pack.
Why aren't these kids Abercrombie models or something?
"Hey Ror," he said casually holding up the ice pack to his head. Like he just hadn't gotten beat up and come from a fight.
"Are you okay?" I asked.
"I should be asking you the same question. You're the one who passed out."
"For like, two minutes. I'm fine," I assured.
He gave me a quizzical look, indicating that he didn't believe it, but he let it go.
Noticing that his arm was bleeding badly right threw is gauze, I went to unwrap it.
I immediately cringed. "What happened?" I gasped. This was not your normal scrap or cut from a fight. This cut was deep and looked like something had torn threw the skin.
"Oh that? That was nothing," he said forced.
"Nicolas." He really needed to drop the tough act. he was hurt.
"Fine. One of Calvin's friends picked up a piece of broken glass and slashed my arm."
"Did you clean it out?!" I asked.
"Yes Doctor. It just won't stop bleeding."
"Gee I wonder why," I muttered sarcastically. Then I wrapped a new piece of gauze around his muscular arm.
"Thanks."
"No problem," I answered.
"Rory? Nicolas? What are you two still doing up, you two should get to bed," instructed Mrs. Easthom as she entered the kitchen.
I stood abruptly, not wanting to get into anymore trouble and went up stairs.
I don't think I realized how tired I was until my head hit the pillow.