Lit: A Story

Chapter Eleven

The heavens are void of stars tonight. I wonder, sitting on the steps of the porch. It is a mind-blowing day, I must say. I rest my head between my legs; headache attacks.

I hear someone sit beside me. I see the bottle of liquor the person has at hand. I look beside me; Pierre sits, his back ramrod straight.

"You look like you need a drink," he suggests. I shake my head.

"Drinks and headache don't work together," I mutter angrily. He senses my rage.

"Look, I am here to apologize--"

"No need. Who gives a fuck about last night? You almost got me!" I stand. His stare remains pensive.

"That's why listen!" He stands too. His hands trap my face. His touch is hot, the alcohol beginning to work in his system. "I'm sorry, Aurore!"

I freeze. Pierre never scolds anyone. Yes, he is the typical cuss-all-he-want boy who does fist fights and wrestling matches to people daring him. He keeps his jovial charade. For the second time in my life, Pierre scared me.

He notices my expression. His expression changes to alarmed. Pierre suddenly hugs me -- a civil hug. I cannot push him. I cannot lash out my anger. He hugs me, like a father hugs her daughter when he sees her cry.

"Damn it. He is going to kill me for this," Pierre murmurs. He buries his nose in my hair. A chill runs down my spine.

Geoff, where are you?

"I'm sorry-- Oh my god, I'm sorry Aurore." He says, again and again. I panic. I cannot relax. Pierre feels my stiffness; he reaches for my hand. The heavens know how long I wished for this before. But Pierre had sold me to the devil.

"Aurore, I am sorry." His voice breaks. My hands unclench. Oh, the deities! I wrap my arms around his neck.

Bejesus, what in the world is going on? I want to call Geoff. I want to wrap him in my arms and shag him senseless. I want him to cleanse me from Pierre's touch.

I can't.

"Enough," I hear someone from the shadows.

Geoff is there, sullen and composed. His gaze is with Pierre's. I want him to look at me and tell me those sacred words, but he refuses to give me his attention. Pierre sniffs.

"Man, I'm a dead meat, ain't I?" Pierre asks. Geoff shakes his head.

"I don't fight my friends. I just try to let them correct their mistakes on their own." Geoff explains. Pierre moves to him. They high-five, Pierre with his comical wet smile, and Geoff with his charming one.

"Boy's night?" Pierre inquires. Geoff nods. Pierre looks back to me.

"I'll see you tomorrow." He returns to his former place and kisses my forehead. Geoff leads their way, not even giving me a glance.

Did I just hit two birds with one stone?