He's a Keeper

Chapter 18

Felicity

So we waited.

And waited.

And waited.

I'm anxious.

Finally, the doorbell rings.

Mr. Beckett was already heading that way.

I hear him open the door.

"Felicity is in the living room."

The front door shuts.

He walks in.

He looks worried.

She looks like complete shit.

I just look at her.

She has stains on her. She's wearing black leggings and a sweatshirt.

My family is with her, and they look worried as hell.

I didn't know they were coming.

Mrs. Beckett looks overjoyed. She was upset when they didn't want to come.

Her blonde hair is a complete mess, and her makeup is running all over the place.

She needs to bathe.

She needs help.

She needs help, and she's looking for me to give it to her.

"Let's get you changed." I say. "And...bathed."

So I bring her upstairs, and I give her a gray New Orleans sweatshirt and a pair of my leggings, and my underwear.

She shaves and dresses, and I sit her down and brush through her hair, and then I bring her downstairs.

They all seem concerned.

She sits down on the couch.

I sit across from her.

"What happened?" I ask.

She laughs humorlessly.

"You uh..." she shakes her head. "You remember when we were eight? We were sitting on the picnic bench at lunch and you had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich." She says. "With the crusts cut off. You never liked crust." I shrug. "You were sipping juice. Your hair was blonde back then. You weren't born with brown hair."

I hesitate.

"I don't..." I trail off.

"You looked at me," she continues. "And you were sitting next to that kid...what was his name again? Luke? He was trying to get your attention, but you didn't even notice. You told me, and I quote 'if somebody ever hurts you or Abby or Tori the way my uncle hurt my aunt, I'm going to beat them up."

I nod.

"Yeah. I remember now. I had that ugly blue dress on. My Mom loved that dress, but I thought it was ugly. His name was Garret, not Luke. We were in third grade and he'd been in love with me since pre school."

She nods.

"Yeah. Well the bell rang, so we went back to our class. Mrs. Johnson. We learned for a little while, and we went to recess, and we were on the swing, and Garret wanted your attention so he pushed me off the swing and I was crying. You walked over to Garret..." she starts laughing. I smile because I know what she's about to say. "And you said 'you're a fucking bitch' and you kicked him in the balls."

Everyone is smiling around the room.

"He hurt you." I say. "And I was angry."

"You got expelled from the third grade and your Mom was so mad at you, she used the wooden spoon and kicked your ass."