The Baby Project

Chapter 8

I know I said a week. I had the entire chapter written out, but I couldn't publish it until i was 100% happy. In the end I rewrote it and took a completely different path, but I'm happy with it, so here it is.

p.s. I don't speak Italian, and I know Google Translate get's it wrong sometimes, but if anyone reading this actually speaks it, I would appreciate your help

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Enjoy :)

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“So let me get this straight,” Noah said, as he pulled into our driveway. “You walked into a pole.” I nodded uneasily, my hands clamming together in my lap. “Why do I find that so hard to believe?”

I just shrugged my shoulders, opening the car door and walking inside the house. Neither my mum nor dad were home, so I wandered into my room and threw my bag on my bed.

Pulling out a small tube of concealer, I proceeded to lather the sticky solution over the dark bruises on my face. Noah came in a few minutes later, and eyed me suspiciously.

“When you were four, you ran through our ranch slider that led onto the deck. I remember because your nose stared bleeding, and left red stains all over the carpet.” I barely had time to nod at him before he spoke again. “When you were six, you fell down Grandma May’s stairs. You almost broke your jaw. We had to take you to the hospital and Grandma’s car broke down, remember?”

I nodded again, and stared at the floor. Noah was sitting on my bed, his hands up supporting his head against the frame. He smiled weakly at me. “You know, if you wanted, we could sit here for hours reminiscing about all the times you’ve hurt yourself. But that’s not really necessary, is it? So I’m going to say this only once. Never in my life have I seen your face so banged up. Not even after that time I threw a baseball at your face, and let me tell you, you looked pretty bad. So sit your ass down in that chair and explain what happened.”

I sniffed a little and sat down in my desk chair, still staring at the floor. Noah stared impatiently, waiting for me to talk. After several minutes of silence, I spoke.

“It was just some girls from school, it’s nothing.”

“Girls? Who? What were their names?”

“S-S-Sophie,” I stammered, “And I don’t know who else. She was a cheerleader.”

“Sophie? As in Sophie Saxton? That girl couldn’t throw a punch, and I bet the other girl couldn’t either. Grace, who hit you?” I felt the first tear fall down my cheek and in an instant Noah had wrapped his arms around me. I cried into his shoulder, my breaths heavy and short.

“Kennedy. I don’t know his last-”

“That bastard.”

“You know him?”

“Everybody knows him. The kid basically-” Noah was cut off when we heard the doorbell ring. I stood slowly, and walked out of the room to answer it, leaving my brother alone on my bed.

As I walked past my parent’s room, I snuck a look at myself in the mirror that hung on their wall. My bloodshot eyes were puffy and since I forgot to get changed, my school uniform was wrinkly and tear-stained.

I heard the doorbell ring again, and rushed down the hall. As I pulled open the wooden door, a pair of blue eyes greeted me. Liam stood in front of me holding a plastic bag in his left hand and a cigarette in his mouth.

“Can I come in?” He asked gruffly, taking a long, exaggerated drag.

“Put out your cigarette, then you can.” He sighed and flicked it into the garden, then stepped into the doorway.