CHAPTER ONE
I rush into the police station with the feeling of complete annoyance clouding my thoughts. I'm going to kill him. My feet quicken as I approach the desk, no words were exchanged the secretary simply points her pen to in a direction and a sorrowful expression made its way on my face as my eyes glance towards the given direction. He stands in the waiting area, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and deep in his brooding period. Finally, he looks up his gaze locking with mine, then I roll my eyes and indicate with a bob of my head- towards the exit- that we could leave. Bouncing off the wall he walks behind me.
Outside in the cool breeze of the summer evening, we trudge to the car but before anyone of us can enter, I turn to face him. With his hands shoved in his pockets and his head is hung in shame- well I hope it is. "Camron," I whisper in a shaky breath and wait for him to answer. Once again I'm greeted with his hazel eyes, behind his shoulder length large loose waves of curls, which are impossible to see in the violet sky which shadows over us. He shrugs and I step forward creating the distance between us smaller. I reach up and trace my thumb over his bruised lips, sighing I drop my hand then punch the same battered mouth.
There are exclamations of 'ooh's' and 'ouch's' seeping from the van as Camron brings his face from the side with blood in the corner dripping from a crack. Retrieving my hand back to examine it, minimal damage almost next to none, shake my fingers just to make sure I could move them because his jaw is like stone but luckily I'm able to do some damage. Only if he is previously hurt, which is often.
"Get in the car." I bitterly snap as I climb in and wait for him to enter, before driving away from the station. There's absolute silence in the vehicle as I drive but soft occasional sniggering escapes into the peace.
Then from the back, I heard in a loud voice, "boy you got f*cked up!" Roaring laughter fills the car as the rest join in, I look in the mirror and know whose voice that belongs to, Joey.
–
Rubbing the Betadine Antiseptic liquid with a cotton wool over the bruises on his knuckles, there's a hiss from the victim but other than that he bears the pain. I roll my eyes and have no sympathy both outwardly and internally, he's an idiot who does the same idiotic thing continuously. After cleansing the wound I bind them over with rolls of gauze over the area of damage, then pin them in place. Giving him back his hand, I send him the usual warning, "remember to-"
"-clean it with the antiseptic to stop infection and change the bandages as well, I know." He interrupts with a cocky smirk because this is how we spend our normal Friday nights, bandaging up wounds.
"I wish you didn't know that by heart." Standing up from the chair that slides against the wooden floor boards, I walk to the sink and empty the bloody contents into it and wash it then put it away. I stand to lean against the Beola Verde marble counter with my hands pressed on it, "so what again happened?" Ignoring my request to inform me on how he managed to end up at a police station on a Friday night, he strides towards to me then places his hands on my hips and lifts me up onto the counter. I am a pretty tall girl and although his height is far above mine, his ego cannot take the possibility I may just outgrow up.
Huffing I watch him jump on next to me, looking down at me, eyeing me with humour in his eyes. Camron is actually a huge softie with major anger issues. Once the hard exterior is broken down, all that remains are marshmallows, warm hugs and a male who cries when Mufasa is trampled over then dies in the Lion King.
"Would you believe me if I told you, I didn't start it?" He says looking down at his bandaged knuckles, recollecting his thoughts from tonight.
Sighing I answer, "yes." Surprised he glances up with his wild hair blanketing his eyes but I sweep them behind his head so I see his eyes clearly. "Don't act so surprised you've made progress."
With a scoff and lick of his lips he continues, "two guys from our school, taunting me. At first, I ignore them as advised to, but the little pests refrained from poking the bear and before I knew it-"
"You let the bear out." His bloody spirit animal, a bear. He nods and I reply, "you know what, I think that's enough story time for tonight."
"No I'm not done," Camron insist pleading me with his lovely hazel with a sprinkle of green eyes.
"Cam-" Before we could finish, Noel intercepts our debate by walking into the kitchen standing in the doorway.
"Is meat head over here okay?" Noel genuinely asks, but his mischievous grin is what questions the authenticity of his care about Camron as he never smiles.
"What about you Prince Armani," the mockery falls casually from his injured lips. In response, Noel sends a scowl Camron's way then backs out of the door away losing interest in his broken brother. "I feel much better now."
"Yes but I'm not sure Noel does," he voluntarily helps me off the counter and I search after Noel, to apologise on behalf of Camron. I find him in the living room watching the blank and empty screen T.V screen on the opposite couch. Plopping down next to him my hand props my head in place as my elbow digs into the couch and wait for him to calm down. His chest rises and falls and I receive the signal, "he did not call you that out of spite you know right?"
"Of course but he shouldn't say it period," Noel shrugs, "but I see no reason to remain upset with him, he'll come back crawling. They all do."
A small smile creeps on my face, "there's the narcissistic guy I know and love." We both share a tiny grin then a low chuckle occurs from Joey's direction on the single couch closest to the window. "What's so funny?"
"The fact you punched Camron if only I'd taken pictures," Joey answers with a wide grin.
"That wasn't the first time Joey and won't be the last," I tell him the truth.
He nods vigorously then replies with, "oh I know and when that time arrives, I'll be camera ready."
"Did you take too many happy pills this morning-"
"Noel!" I gasp at his lack of filter and decency.
"For shame Prince Armani," Joey shakes his head and Noel begins to steam up. To save my head I scurry off to find the last and final occupant of this home. Up the stairs and down the corridor I knock against the wooden door and wait for a reply.
"Come in." His voice sounds through the gap between the floor and door and I enter with his acceptance.
There he is, the last but not the least, with a book hovering before his face and his glasses pushed up against the part of the nose that separates the eyes from each other. "Ciao bel ragazzo." My nickname for him in Italian, as he has a mixed heritage of Italian and American.
"Ciao maschiaccio," he says and pats down the vacant space beside him and willingly I sit. Sitting next to him I look down at the story he was previously reading, Moby Dick.
"Again."
Releasing a breath from his mouth, a grin grows and he answers, "yes again." The glasses which once sat stable on his nose slides down an inch to which he pushes them back up. My eyes trace over his bent posture, head buried in the pages and I notice the tattoos creeping from the neckline of his t-shirt. "You have a dress?"
"Sadly yes, she's taking me out to get our nails done and whatever addition needed to make tomorrow special. Got your tuxedo?" He nods when I ask as I shove my hands together in between my thighs of my baggy jogging bottoms. Although summer, the casual and comfortable look of baggy clothing is my outfit for every day, regardless of the weather. My eyes wonder to the separated curtains with a view of the darkening sky with no more rays of violet, it's late.
"Is Camron okay?" Antonio questions me drawing my attention from the sky and back in the room. I smile then play with the raven hair on his head through my fingers.
Then I place my hands over my face and lean back against the headboard with the feeling anxiousness in the pit of my stomach, "you know him, he'll survive but suddenly the year ahead appears uncertain. Can I trust him, Joey or Noel or even you? Is it healthy for you all?"
"What about you, you need this too?" Peeking through my fingers, I find him gazing outside with his hands balled up in fist, nails probably digging into his palms and his jaw now tight
"You believe they're coming for you," in a swift motion his head turns sharply and he searches my face for the confirmation and possible sympathy. I shake my head, "don't fret, they haven't contacted me and they won't be taking you. I won't let them." And yet in my own reassurance, there was an element of worry. I cannot take hold or believe in my own words, it is not as if I have an army to use if they were to take him. But I don't let him see that instead, I put on a comforting smile in hopes he'll forget my promise.
"It's late, you should go home maschiaccio," Antonio suggests and I agree. With tomorrow's activities planned ahead I am going to need all the sleep I can get. Previously I was asleep, however, news of Carmon's somewhat arrest woke up and here I am, destroying my sleep schedule and harming my morning's agenda.
"You're right, pop's would be worried." Swinging my legs over, I get off his bed and stroll to the door, "goodnight bel ragazzo."
"Buona notte maschiaccio." Is what hear when I close the door before descending down the stairs. I bid the rest of the boys a goodnight then exit the house and step out into the dark sky with stars -or probably aeroplanes- shining through the thick blanket of darkness, along with the Moon. In my car, I turn on the engine and drive home to be with another male. However, with this one I am not constantly watching over him, making sure he doesn't put something in his mouth he is not supposed to or preventing him being involved in any fights. With him, I am the one that requires watching over.