The End

Chapter 10

“Do you, like, ever eat?” Number Twelve asked around a mouthful of pizza.

            “Um—” I stuttered awkwardly.

            “We just ate. I’m not very hungry either,” Duke interrupted, dramatically shoving his plate away.

            Number Twelve stared incredulously before stealing the food off Duke’s plate. Jason stood in the corner of the room, prepared to step in if the interactions he witnessed grew out of hand.

            “Let’s go,” Duke muttered, pulling me from the social center of the gathering. We left the room, Duke making his way to the large stairway that guarded the lavish entry way forebodingly. Grabbing my hand again, we climbed.

            He showed me around the upper story of his house, pausing at each room before finally arriving at the door at the end of the hall.

            Slipping the door open, I entered his world.

            The room was large, a king-sized be standing proudly in the center, the walls papered in posters of athletes and bands. He walked into the tidy space, gesturing me to follow. As I shut the door behind me, he slumped onto the duvet exhaustedly.

            “Is everything okay?” I asked, not able to mask the concern in my voice.

            “Yeah. I thought both of us could use a break. Are you okay?”

            “Yeah.”

            “Sorry about those guys. They can be real assholes around girls.”

            “I couldn’t tell,” I giggled. He smiled for a second, but it quickly disappeared.

            “Do you need to take more? I mean, we can leave whenever you want, I just—”

            “Duke, I’m fine,” I reassured. “This is for you. Go eat, be with your friends.”

            He stood and kissed me. As our luck would have it, there came footsteps from the hallway, the door swinging open suddenly. Jason peered in at us, still entangled in each other’s arms.

            “Sorry if I’m interrupting,” he said stiffly, his arms crossed, “but there is an entire team downstairs waiting for their captain.” He pointedly looked at Duke, who flushed, clearly not amused by his son’s antics.

            “Sorry, Dad,” Duke mumbled, looking slightly embarrassed.

            Jason turned, his shoulders shaking with silent laughs as he made his way to the staircase. Duke and I righted ourselves before following him, Duke’s hand sitting protectively on my hip.

            The team had moved from the dining room to the large den at the rear of the house. When we entered, everyone stared. Duke’s cheeks reddened slightly, now aware of his father’s reason for intruding.

            Number Twelve raised an eyebrow while Number Eight snickered manically.

            “So, Duke, how is life?” Twelve asked, brandishing a smirk. The rest of the boys cackled.

            “Fine, thanks for asking,” he responded, refusing to be teased.

            “Well, have a seat. We were just getting ready to watch a movie.” Turning to me, he smiled. “I hope horror is okay with you. If not, I’m sure Reynolds wouldn’t mind cuddling.”

            Duke laughed mockingly as the team giggled at the banter.

            “Why don’t we watch something else instead?” he suggested.

            “I don’t see any chick-flicks over here, Duke, if that is what you mean,” Eight added.

            After more feminine jokes about Duke, they finally agreed on comedy. However, the movie was pointless, as it only served as background for the questions they asked me.

            “So, what’s your name? Duke isn’t a gentleman, so we were never properly introduced,” Twelve pressed.

            “Florence, and yours?”

            “Grant.” The blond boy extended a hand, kissing my knuckles, trying to prove he was a gentleman.

            “Florence, how long have you known Duke?”

            “For—”

            “A while. Gee, what has it been? Four years? Maybe five?” Duke interjected, saving me once again.

            “Something like that,” I grinned.

            Grant had a weird look on his face, brows furrowed, eyes downcast.

            “Are you dating?”

            The room stood still. The team members seemed to move to the edge of their seats, waiting for more ammunition to tease Duke with. As a response, Duke kissed me. The boys whopped and yelled, laughing. Duke pulled back, grinning.

            “To answer your question, yes,” he smirked.

            I shoved him away playfully, laughing when he tried to tickle me. As I did, Grant caught sight of my arms, not bothering to hide his stare.

            “Jesus, Florence. Do you really ever eat? Your arms are tiny,” he exclaimed, wide-eyed.

            My cheeks turned pink as I tried to pull away, but he caught my wrist, his massive hand holding me in place. His large, rough, fingers wrapped around my arm, extending it so the rest of the boys could see. Duke grimaced, anger boiling in his typically indifferent features.

            “Leave her alone,” he sputtered, the rage clear in his voice.

            “But Duke—is she anorexic or something?” Number Eight asked, looking genuinely concerned.

            “No, Matt, she just has a-a really fast metabolism,” he concluded weakly.

            “Seriously, Duke? Have you looked at her? She’s ti—”

            “Enough,” Duke interrupted.

            “But—” Matt, Number Eight, began.

            “I think we better go. Right, Florence?”

            “Okay,” I agreed quickly, trying to escape the uncomfortable interrogation.

            “I don’t care if you guy’s stay, but I have to take her home,” Duke told them as he ushered me to the door.

            His father stood in the stairway as we prepared to exit.

            “Duke?” he asked, clearing his throat. His eyes were filled with concern; worry washing over his face.

              Looking at his father, Duke nodded slowly. Jason released a strangled sigh, turning and slowly mounting the stairs before disappearing into darkness.

            Duke opened the door, the Georgia heat welcoming us. I couldn’t shake the questions from my mind, the terrified looks, the conversations that were surely being carried on behind closed doors. Jason’s look of utter disappointment danced in my mind each time I closed my eyes.

No matter how far I’d come, this evening served only as proof. I may be able to live, but I will never fit in a human world.