The Boy Across the Street

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

I need to change my shirt. I’m holding the material away from my body, a huge crimson stain stemming from the stomach. It will never come out. 

Bradbury sits on my couch, head bandaged, shirt as stained as mine across the shoulders and down the back. He scarfs down the leftover food I made for Leslie. He eats like he hasn’t seen food in days. 

I want to say something so badly. Not necessarily about what has happened - I’m not even sure I can process any of that just yet. I just want to start some sort of conversation because the silence is slowly killing me. But how do you even talk about something trivial after a night like this. 

“Thank you.” 

I look up, and if Bradbury wasn’t looking at me, I’m not sure I would’ve been able to convince myself that it was, indeed, his soft voice that had spoken those words. 

“Don’t worry about it,” I smile. He looks back down at his food, almost gone.

“I can make you more,” I offer.

“That’s okay,” he sighs as he shoves the last forkful into his mouth. 

“It wouldn’t be any trouble,” I shrug and he peers up at me again.

“I should probably go.” His voice is cold again.

I tilt my head. “Where will you go?” Obviously not home.

I see his shoulders square and a muscle in his jaw clenches. “I don’t know.” 

But he answered honestly. 

“Stay.” The words are immediate.

“Stay?” He repeats. “Here?” I can’t look at his face for fear of what I might see. “Where can I stay?”

My chest feels like it will explode. I finally blink up at him. 

“Um, you can have my bed.”

He cocks his head. “Where will you sleep?”

“I’ll just take the couch, it’s fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah, don’t worry about it.”

“Okay.”

I nod. “Okay. Uh, follow me then.” I get up and he slowly sets his plate on the edge of the couch before pushing himself to his feet. Without thinking - again - I reach out and grab his forearm. I help pull him to his feet and as he’s looking down at me as I stare straight ahead. I am parallel with his collarbone that juts out and my eyes trace the lines to where his shoulders meet his neck and - I turn my head away sharply. I let go of him and walk out of the room.

“Can you make it up the stairs okay?” I call behind me.

“Yeah, sure.”

I nod my head without looking back and race up the stairs, my heartbeat racing faster at a million miles per hour.