Money M // Johnny Lawrence

Coldness

I started knocking on the blonde boy's door frantically, my hands were shaking so bad I thought they were gonna fall off. My dad was about twenty feet behind me, still running.

Johnny finally opened the door, his eyes wide once he saw me. "J-Johnny," I said, out of breath. "Johnny please help me," I took another breath. "My-My," I couldn't catch my breath, he just pulled me into the house.

He led me to his bathroom and he sat me on the counter. "Calm down," he said softly. I gripped the counter and started breathing. My heart rate was probably 200 over 60 but that didn't really matter at the moment. I just needed to calm down.   

"I-I didn't know where else to go," I told him, he nodded. "Don't worry about it." He told me. He bent down and got a wet cloth to wipe some blood off my neck. "Did you cut yourself or something?" He asked, cleaning it off. I smiled, but couldn't laugh. We both knew he was joking.

"Johnny?" I asked after a few minutes. "Hmm?" He hummed. "Can I stay here? With you?" I asked him, he just looked at me confused. "I'm scared to go back," I paused. "Home. I don't wanna go home." I told him. His blue eyes looked happy, but his face looked sorry. It was like seeing two emotions physically.

"Yeah," he walked up to me and put his arms around me. I was a little taken back. "Yeah you can stay." He whispered into my ears. The tears had reappeared in my eyes and were now falling on his navy blue sweatshirt.

"Ill take the couch, you can stay in here," he told me. "I can take it." i replied. "Youre the guest, ill take it." he said. "Exactly, stay in your own room." I replied. He huffed out. "How about we both take the bed, just we dont touch each other?" he asked. "Deal."

-

"Are you gonna tell me what happened?" he asked. I had been here for about a half hour, his bed was the most comfortable bed i had ever slept in. "no." i replied to his question. "Money, you were panicking at my doorstep, what happened?" he asked me. A singular tear dripped from the corner of my eye, not answering his question.

I let out a shaky breath and rolled my shoulders. "I didnt move to California, i ran to it." i told him. He didnt really respond, which made me think he wasnt listening. "Nevermind. You dont care." i turned and laid on my side, my back facing him. I guess that just pissed him off.

"I know i'm a douchebag, Money. That doesnt mean i dont care about you." he told me. I rolled my eyes. "You've known me for a month and a half, how could you care about me so quickly?" i asked him. He groaned. "What about Ali? I thought you cared about her." i asked him, receiving another groan.

"Ive never met a girl with a temper as bad as yours, and your ability to piss people off." he told me. "Youre confusing." he said. I turned to the side to face him. "I'm confusing?" I asked him. "Yeah. You ignore me a week after a party i invited you to, then you say its alright that i spilled water all over you. Then you come here, tears comin' out of your eyes like they're Niagara Falls and bruises on your neck. Its like one minute you hate me and one minute youre inlove with me." he said. I rolled my eyes. "Dont flatter yourself Johnny, i would never fall inlove with you." we both agreed on that.

"Why? Am i not your type?" he asked. "Im not interested in boys." i replied. "Youre into girls?" he teased, making me hit him in the stomach with a pillow. "No." i told him. "Thats okay, youre not my type either." he said. That made me feel a lot better. "Goodnight, Johnny." i finished the conversation. "Goodnight Money." he turned back over and we both went to sleep.

—

*Frank Sinatra Playing*

"Your mother always loved his music." My father set the two plates on the table. This would be our first dinner without her. "She's not coming back, is she?" I asked him. He shook his head no. "Just eat, Monroe." he pointed to my food. I started eating.

We didn't really talk much during dinner, all I knew was he had his fifth beer for the night, and he had already gone through a pack of smokes. "Heather, get me another drink would ya?" my father called from the living room. I grabbed one of the aluminum cans and brought it out to him, setting it on the table.

"My name is Monroe, not Heather. Heather was momma." i told him. He looked darker, sloppier, not him. He didnt look like my dad. "Does it look like i give a fuck?" he asked me. "Go to your room." he pointed to the hallway. I nodded and walked to my room and shut the door.

"God, why did you have to take momma away?" i asked the cross in front of me. It didnt answer. "I thought you wanted good in the world, what good is this going to do me?" i asked the object. "Did you take her away from me because i messed up?" tears pooling from my eyes as i asked that question. "Is it my fault?"

I was brought out of my trance by screams and more gunshots. My glass window shattered into a thousand pieces, giving me cuts everywhere. A couple seconds later my father came into my room, screaming and shouting. He grabbed me by the shoulders. "What the hell is wrong with you? Are you trying to get yourself killed? What the fuck happens inside that head of yours? What is wrong with you?!" he screamed in my face.

–

Cold sweat. Thats all i could feel. Cold sweat and my fast heart rate. I sat up and caught my breath, looking to both sides of me and making sure all the windows were intact. "Monroe, its two in the morning." his voice startled me so much i fell off the bed, literally. I fell on my ass below the bed.

"You okay?" he asked as i got back up on the bed. "Dont worry about it." i told him. He just pulled me into his embrace. I didnt say anything, i didnt mind it. "Youre cold." he whispered into my ear. I just leaned into him more. He was so warm.