The side of the bed next to me is empty when I wake, making me sit up slowly as I rub my eyes.
What was I doing?
Internally, I knew this wasn't a good idea. I shouldn't be getting emotionally involved with someone I would be living with, it could make for a very awkward situation if things didn't work out.
I rise out of the bed, my feet padding on the floorboard as I look among the sport trophies and photos that scattered the room. My eyes fall on one in particular, the same picture I had seen not long after I had arrived here.
Taking in the photo once more, I look at the happy blonde in the photo, wondering who she could be. Her smile was bright as she gleamed to whoever was behind the camera, frozen in a laugh. There was water behind her, sun setting just over her shoulder, making for a beautiful peachy background. There was only one photo of her, she wasn't in any others throughout the room.
Who was she?
Noises drift in through the opened door, jolting me away from my curious thinking, I quickly leave the room. Not only wanting to be caught gazing at the photo, but also not wanting the others to see me in here, if they hadn't known already.
I silently hope that they don't.
*
"You what?" Monica gasps after telling them about what happened on Saturday night, and about waking in Rodger's bed.
"Did you guys," Dalton's voice trails off quietly, almost as if he was regretting asking the question once it's out of his mouth.
"No!" I exclaim, my cheeks burning from the thought.
"I knew something was going to go down, I just knew it." Monica continues, a smile forming on her lips as she looks down the school hallway ahead of us. "You and Rodger Parker. I could see it."
We have reached our lockers, Monica's being straight across the hallway from our own. Once we have grabbed needed supplies, we shut the metal doors and meet up yet again to make our way to the first hour.
"How did you manage that, he has been emotionally unavailable since-.." She trails off, watching as my eyes meet hers, bidding her to continue.
"Since?" I ask her when she remains quiet.
"You don't know?" She looks away from me, mentally kicking herself for spilling the bit of information I knew nothing about. When I haven't said anything, implying that I in fact did not, she sighs softly.
"You're my best friend, but I feel like this is something Rodger should talk about with you himself." She concludes, only making my suspicions rise.
*
Monica came over after school that day for us to work on a project from last hour. The boys were at practice, and Dalton had some things of his own to do, allowing for some much needed girls time.
After finishing our homework, we gush about boys and laugh as we tell embarrassing stories no one else knew. We painted each other's toenails, and binge watched The Circle.
I hadn't had many friends back home, I had been so involved with my mother's mental health, and then her disappearance, I didn't have the time or ambition to carry out a friendship with another person. It was nice having people to share things with, to know that there are people close that you can count on.
"You've never told me why you moved here." She says, screwing the brush back into the polish bottle before looking to me. "What landed you this glorious spot here in the Parker house?"
Watching the expression on my face, I can see her smile fade. Her mouth opens, prepared to take back the question, to halt me from explaining what had brought me here.
"My mom was really sick," My voice breaks slightly and I clear my throat, bidding myself not to get emotional as I explained further. "My dad works all the time, and Steven being a friend of his, he thought it best that I come here."
"Where is your mom now, with your dad?" Her voice is hesitant, picking up on the 'was' I had dropped when explaining my mother's situation.
"She killed herself two months ago."
It was the first time I had said it outloud, the first time I had talked about it with anyone besides myself. I kept this topic buried with a tight lid on the bottle, not wanting to think of her as actually gone. I would rather continue to think she just hadn't come home yet.
A quick apology begins to pour from her mouth and I stop her rambling with a smile.
"Let's go find something to eat." I tell her, blinking the burning sensation in my eyes away as we make our way to the kitchen.
*
The boys had arrived home not much longer after, Dalton took this opportunity to lay on more of his effortless charm. Rodger hadn't appeared with the rest of them, making me silently wonder where he had gone.
It had reached 9pm when Monica began retrieving her things to go home. I grab the decorated poster board that displayed our presentation, and helped her carefully to her car. Rodger's truck was packed in the driveway, but he was nowhere to be seen.
Parked behind her car, blocking her inside, Marcus sat waiting for her. Her demeanor as she reaches her car tells me that she had in fact not invited him here.
How had he known where I lived?
She tends to him as I take my time putting the things into the car, silently watching them to make sure all was well.
"I thought I told you that I didn't want you coming here."
"We had a partner project from last hour, it needed to be done." I could tell by the tone in her voice she was tired. Tired of the constant arguing, the control, and how toxic Marcus was.
They continue back and forth, his tone filling with more anger as she continues to defend herself rather than apologize for her actions. Shutting the door of her car, the sound makes his eyes snap away from her.
"You can go inside now." He calls to me, clearly disliking my presence.
"Thank you for giving me permission to go inside the house I live in." I shrug, placing my hand to lean against the car.
He ignores me, not allowing me to stop him from getting more and more frustrated with his girlfriend.
"I can't do this anymore." Monica raises her hands, shaking her head now that she had reached her limit. "I can't stand to have you breathing down my neck all the time, telling me who I can and cannot hang out with, controlling the clothes I wear, having to watch and know my every move."
Her voice comes out in a volume that echoes through the quiet neighborhood slightly, not enough to disturb the people around us, but enough to express the emotion behind the words themselves.
"We're done, Marcus."
Turning away from him, she begins taking a few steps in my direction before he grabs her bicep roughly, spinning her to face him.
"I don't think so." He growls, not accepting the ending of their relationship.
"Hey." I interject but his eyes don't move from hers.
"We are done, when I say we are." Using force, he pushes her against the hood of the car, her arms pressing against the silver surface to catch herself.
"Enough." I demand, trying to slide between them.
A hard backhand meets my cheek with a loud smack, stars flash my eyes as my legs give out, the skin of my palms grates against the pavement with a fierce burn.
"Mind your business, bitch."
I blink relentlessly, my hand flying to my cheek that stung from his slap.
Suddenly, Marcus is pulled away from Monica, and tossed onto the driveway like a ragdoll. Rodger is on top of his chest in an instant, forceful fists rising and falling as they connect with Marcus's face.
Monica is pleading through her tears for him to stop, screaming Rodger's name while he continues to wail on the other boy. Regaining my footing, I take a few steps and grab Rodger's arm gently, repeating his name multiple times, but I am unable to snap him out of his rage.
The front door is yanked opened, the noise outside drawing them out quickly.
Three of the other Parker boys grab their brother, removing him from Marcus who laid in a bloody mess on the concrete.Rodger jerks away from them, stumbling slightly as he brushes the hair from his face, smearing a faint trail of blood across his forehead. It's not known whether it was his own, or Marcus's, Rodger's knuckles were busted open from the continuous forceful connections he had delivered.
"What the fuck?" Dalton questions, looking from the tear-streaked Monica, to my blazing red cheek, to his panting brother.
Rodger says nothing, instead, he silently grabs a water bottle I hadn't noticed, off the trunk of my car where he had placed it. He takes a long drink, only stopping when Dalton grabs it from his mouth. He brings it to his nose, head turning when he had examined what was inside.
After twisting the lid back in place, he walks to where Marcus lay withering on the ground, clutching his face. Tapping his legs with the toe of his Dalton, Dalton gestures to Marcus's car.
"Get out of here before I take a turn with you myself." He threatens, making Marcus scramble quickly to his feet and into his vehicle.
Once he is gone, Monica repeatedly breathes apologies, to me, to Rodger, to everyone. Tears continue to roll down her face, her mascara only slightly smudging. I pull her into a tight hug, her arms holding onto me tightly as she cries into the nook of my neck.
After she had calmed down, she too pulls from the driveway and returns home, leaving us standing silently in the driveway.
The skin of my palms scream from the missing skin I lost upon falling. Blood oozing out of the tiny cuts ever so slightly.
Dalton throws the water bottle, making it connect with a loud impact against Rodger's chest.
"You've got to get it together, don't fall down this hole again, Rodger." He finalizes, walking back into the house and the other's slowly follow.
Rodger doesn't say anything to me as he bends to retrieve the bottle from the ground. His eyes meeting mine when he has come to stand straight.
"Are you okay?" He asks me, searching mine as he waits for me to answer and I nod.
I take a few hesitant steps forward, grabbing his hand gently as I look at his busted knuckles. The smell of lingering liquor drifts to my nose from his breath.
"Let's get cleaned up." I tell him softly, leading him upstairs to my bathroom, which has already seen something like this before.
After we have cleaned both of our wounds, and taken showers, Rodger appears back into my room before taking a seat on the bed next to me.
"Where did you come from?" I ask him, wondering how he came to our rescue so quickly when he had been nowhere in view.
"I had taken a walk, was just getting home." He explains, his eyes remaining on his feet.
'Don't fall down this hole again.'
Dalton's words drift through my mind as I quietly examine the boy next to me.
His wet hair hung loosely away from his head as he kept his neck bent, his strong shoulders slumped slightly, as if they were carrying something heavy. Maybe it was the same thing that made his young face appear so tired, and lost.
"Do you want to talk about it?" I whisper, knowing there was something running laps in his brain, knowing the feeling all to well myself.
He shakes his head slowly, still avoiding eye contact with me.
I place my head on his shoulder, the gesture making him lean his own head against mine.
We don't say anything else, once he has gotten tired, I cover him under the comforter of my bed, and snuggle against him tightly.