Summer Boy

34.Trainwreck

  It all happened so fast I was barely able to comprehend it all. I was in my bed when I woke up, and so was Damien. I quickly scanned my brain back to last night, when I fell asleep on him as he tried to treat my minor concussion the best he could. He must have fallen asleep then, because he was in that same position when I woke up. But I'm not the kind of sleeper he was, and I had at some point in the night moved my whole body onto him.

  I rubbed my eyes sleepily as I realized I had one arm looped around the back of his neck and the other draped over his chest. My leg was twisted at the hip into a crooked bend around his leg. He had taken his shirt off, too, but he had always slept shirtless. I tried not to think much of it as I yawned sleepily and shut my eyes, snuggling back into my best friend's warm chest. That was when the door flew open.

  "Chloe!"  Derick boomed. "What the fuck is this?" My eyes flew open in a millisecond at the sound of his voice.

  "Derick, what are you doing here?" I asked, my voice dangling in the edge of panic as I slid my body away from Damien's. He woke up then, and looking from Derick back to me, had a look of nervous comprehension.

  "I came to see my girlfriend." Derick seethed through clenched teeth. His eyes held a certain look of deceit, of direct rage. 

  "Its not like that, I swear." I said teetering on a whisper so my voice wouldn't break at the stress. The muted sunlight that came through the window told me it must have been around nine in the morning, early for the both of us.

  "Not like that? Its not like that?" he was shouting now, his angry voice enough to bring me to my knees shaking in fear. "What are you, some kind of slut now?"

  "No, Derick, really! We didn't do anything, I swear." I pleaded. I shuffled out of bed, hesitantly walking toward him with my hands out in front of me. "Derick, baby, listen to me-"

  "Don't call me your fucking baby." he fumed. "You're nothing but another filthy whore." I was choking back tears, and trying to reach out to touch him. "Don't fucking touch me." he pushed me back roughly before storming out, pushing over a lamp and kicking a hole in the plaster on the way.

  I looked at Damien with wild eyes. He stared back in alarm. "Chloe," he muttered. My eyes glassed over with hot tears, dripping down my face like candle wax. "Hey, Chlo, don't worry-"

   "Don't worry?" I scoffed. "How can you tell me not to worry?" I was pacing the floor erratically, picking up random things around my room and putting them back. "I... I mean... I'm sorry, Damien- I don't know what to do." I let a bottle of strawberry scented body lotion roll off my fingertips onto the carpet as I collapsed on the edge of the bed. Damien rolled his tee shirt back down his chest and came over to me.

  "I'm sorry." he said dolefully. I opened my throat to the tears, inevitable chokes of sobs rolling out from deep within my chest. He wrapped his arms around me, softly hushing my loud cries. I gripped his shirt with my fingers, hugging him to me as his shirt became my tissue. I blubbered in his chest until my face was blanketed in salty, wet fabric and the sun had transformed from bright yellow to a muted orange haze.

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  "Hey, Chloe?" I pried my eyes open slowly. The dried tears had them stuck together like superglue. My gaze fell open the slender figure in the doorway, illuminated by the sheen of artificial light. It punctured the lonely darkness of my room like a thin white scar on smooth flesh.

  "Hey, Emilia." I sighed. She closed the door softly and came over to my bed, pushing me over to make room for her. She lay down beside me, watching the ceiling in all of its still, blackened glory. "I'm guessing you heard." I croaked in a rusty voice.