𝐕𝐈𝐑𝐆𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐘 || stu macher

THIRTY ; GAY SEX

The car ride to Jennifer Jolie's house was completely silent.

Molly was still haunted by the sound of Monty Lipton's voice over the phone. She was terrified. If she wasn't going completely insane, and Monty Lipton had escaped his death, she was terrified of what he would to her - to her boys.

They were scared too, Molly could tell.

Everytime Molly spared a glance at Stu's reflection in the mirror, he had a blank expression and his jaw was set. And she could easily see the way his hands gripped the wheel tightly.

Billy seemed more tense though. From where he sat beside Molly in the backseat, he stared out the window, as if he were waiting for the killer to suddenly appear on the side of the road. His hands were clenched in fists as they rested on his legs, and he didn't slouch in his seat whatsoever.

Molly laid her head on Billy's shoulder about ten minutes into the ride. She scooted herself closer and leaned into her friend's side. Billy tensed slightly upon the suddenness, but quickly relaxed. Molly reached out and put her hand on one of his, and Billy hesitantly leaned his head on Molly's.

Molly knew Billy was having a particularly hard time facing the possibility Monty was back. She knew he feared more than just the return of their old friend.

Billy was fragile, whether he liked to admit it or not. Only, he wasn't fragile how most would think - like a flower. Billy was fragile like a bomb, and Molly had witnessed before what happened when that bomb was triggered. She feared it would detonate again if they were to come face to face with Monty Lipton, and Molly didn't want her bestfriend to do something he would spend the rest of his life having nightmares over.

Because Molly was fragile, too. Still not fragile like a flower, but fragile like a piece of glass - once it's dropped and shattered, it can hurt people. Molly had been dropped once before, and she used the shattered glass to hurt the one who hurt her and the ones she loved, but it didn't make her feel better, because then she used the glass to hurt herself; emotionally, for four whole years. She ended up hurting the ones she loved the most too, so she to swept the glass under the rug.

It was a thin rug, through, and Molly was scared they would keep getting hurt.

They arrived at Jennifer's house after approximately thirty minutes. The sun had completely set by then, and the driveway was pitch black through the trees until they reached the house.

There were multiple cars in the driveway already, and loud music played from inside Jennifer's house, but none of them thought much about it. They jumped out of the car and immediately looked over to Dewey's trailer. The lights were off, meaning he most likely wasn't there.

"He's probably inside the house. Come on." Billy said, turning away to walk towards the house. The other two followed.

"Are you okay?" Stu quietly asked Molly, seeing the way she consciously had her arms folded against her chest and the anxious expression on her face.

Molly looked over at him. "Yeah. I'm fine." She lied.

Stu knew she lied. He didn't say anything, though. He just put his arm around her and walked up to the door with her behind Billy, who rang the bell and knocked twice.

Within a few seconds, the door swung open, but Jennifer wasn't the one who stood in front of them. Instead it was a slightly tipsy Christopher Craig, who looked down at the three arrivals with a grin.