Athena

19. On My Way

Later that evening, I'm lying in bed, wide awake, staring anxiously at the shadow play on my ceiling.

It's midnight.

My mind is acting like a feral monkey again. The weekend is officially coming to an end. I have to go to school tomorrow morning. I have to face Chrissa and Brody. There's no way around it.

Distress sinks in.

In the dark, I reach for my phone. I decide to text Cruz: u up?

His response comes quickly.

The Spawn: Yeah, why?

I fib: no reason

The Spawn: Trouble sleeping again?

My mouth parts in surprise.

How did he know?

Damn.

I type back: a little, yeah.

The Spawn: Do you need... me?

For some reason, the way Cruz words his question sends a flutter through me. It excites me. It makes me giddy.

This time, my response to him is shameless: yes please

The Spawn: On my way.

My heart thuds with anticipation.

Ten steps.

That's all it takes.

That's the distance separating his room from mine.

Cruz comes into my room a moment later. I take in his shadowy silhouette. Only joggers again. No shirt.

Hallelujah.

Quietly, Cruz closes my door. He remembers to lock it, too. Just in case.

"Should I stay with you until you fall asleep," he murmurs, "like last time?"

There's something different about talking to Cruz at night versus daytime. Our interactions feel more intimate in the dark, somehow. It makes me shy, all of a sudden.

"Please," I mumble, struggling to find my words, "but only if you don't mind."

His voice is low and soothing when he answers, "I don't mind."

He climbs onto my bed. I shuffle over to give him more space. Our movements are surer this time. Not as cautious. In sync.

Much like last time, Cruz rests his back against the wall and spreads out his long legs across my mattress. I snuggle under my blanket and reach around to hug my pillow. As I move, my arm grazes his thigh ever so innocently. I stay put because I'm in a comfy position, and he doesn't pull away. We're barely touching, but, again, something shifts in the air.

A strange, sweet tension begins to build.

I try to ignore it.

It thrum-thrum-thrums away, nonetheless.

"You good?" he inquires.

"Mm-hmm," I grunt.

I lie on my side, facing him. My gaze drags over his body. Poor Cruz almost looks too big for my small mattress.

I wonder if he's comfortable?

"Need a pillow for your back?" I offer.

"Sure."

I hand my other pillow to him. He places it behind him and slides down into a slouchy halfway-lying and halfway-sitting position.

"Better?"

"Yeah, thanks."

A moment of silence lingers as we chill in the dark together. It doesn't become awkward until I realize that he's practically lying down beside me.

Just joggers.

No shirt.

Bare-chested.

I'm fully clothed in my sleep shirt and shorts, but—

I'm not wearing a bra.

A slight flush warms my skin.

It's not like Cruz and I are doing anything sexual, but him being in my bed definitely doesn't seem like something we should announce to the world.

Then, Cruz breaks the lull as he asks, "You ready for tomorrow?"

"I guess so."

But I'm not ready.

At all.

I consider faking a cold to buy myself a couple of sick days even though I know hiding at home would only delay the inevitable. As much as I want to avoid facing Chrissa and Brody in person, I don't want them to try anything funny while I'm away. I need to be at school to see what they plan to do next.

I decide to tell Cruz, "Brody texted me again."

Scowling, he glances over. "Fuck him. Did you reply?"

"No."

"I guess," he observes, "you haven't changed your mind?"

I say nothing. Cruz sighs because he knows that my silence means nothing has changed. I'm about to close my eyes and try to go to sleep when I hear—

"Hey, Athena?"

I mumble drowsily, "Hmm?"

There's a lengthy pause.

"What's up?" I prod after a few seconds.

A crease mars his brow. "Feel free to ignore me if you don't wanna talk about it, but I was wondering..."

He stalls again. Suspense grips me, my need for sleep fades away, and, soon enough, my full attention snaps back to him. Cruz sounds hesitant when he finally comes out with it, "Whatever happened to your mom?"

The question hangs before me like a thousand foot drop.

I'm scared to get closer to it, I don't want to touch it, because the weight of my memories might drag me over the ledge.

"My... mom?" I repeat in a timid voice.

He murmurs, "Yeah, I was always curious about her. And your dad as well, I guess. Where are they now? Why are you stuck with your aunt?"

Cruz rolls towards me, then. The sheets rustle, and the mattress shifts under his weight. His face is mere inches away from mine. He stares at me intently.

I feel flustered as hell. The last thing I want to do is talk about my fucked-up fam. However, I'm conflicted. Cruz opened up about his mom earlier, solely for my benefit, which I'm sure made him uncomfortable as hell, so I feel like I owe him some kind of an explanation.

I wonder how much he already knows about my past?

I'm pretty sure Aunt Katrina told Ron all about my parents.

She had to explain my presence in her life to Ron, somehow, right?

Awkwardly, I ask Cruz, "Did your dad ever mention anything to you about my parents?"

He answers, "Not really. We don't talk much."

I'm surprised to hear that Ron never mentioned anything to Cruz. I'm also surprised that Cruz never asked his dad about me. If I had been in his position, then I'd definitely want all the tea on the strange girl that's moving into my house.

Hell, I still want the tea on his mom.

Honestly, it's weird how little Cruz knows about me and how little I know about him even though we've been living together for a while.

My gaze searches for him in the dark.

Maybe it's time for us to get to know each other better?