Fixing Her Broken Pieces

Chapter 4: Care

Luke's POV:

I made soup for Ebony and put it in a container to bring to her. My father didn't really care where I went so I took the car to go to her house.

I felt bad, I felt like I caused her to get sick. Well, I did drag her around to water rides when it was cool out. So common sense: Soaked with cold water + Cool outside = Getting sick.

Anyways, I drove to her house and knocked on the door. My leg was jumping as I waited for someone to answer.

Ebony appeared wrapped up in a blanket. I could tell she wasn't feeling too hot. She looked tired, her fluffy hair was a mess, her nose wasn't its normal shade of brown, and she coughed wildly as she stood in front of me.

I stood there awkwardly.

Is she gonna invite me inside or let me freeze my butt off out here?

"Um. I brought you some soup," I held it up for her to see. "Can I come in?" I asked casually.

Her eyes widened. "For what?! No, I'm not suppo-"

"Come on, only for about an hour. I didn't just drive here to bring you soup and leave."

Ebony looked inside her house and sighed.

"Okay, just for an hour. My father isn't home," she said and I stepped inside.

It was pretty comfy in her house. She had a nice living room with a big flat screen TV and expensive-looking furniture. I followed Ebony into the kitchen, which was also pretty nice. She got a spoon and gestured to follow her upstairs.

I was surprised when I got to her room. It wasn't at all as furnished as the living room or the kitchen. She had a queen sized bed with a plain gray blanket and two white pillows. Then she had a plain brown dresser where a small flat screen TV sat in the corner of her room.

Ebony sat on her bed and opened the container of soup. I went and sat next to her.

"Is the soup good? I made it myself."

"Yeah," she said and took another sip of the broth. She paused for a second. "Why are you here? Won't you get sick trying to see me?"

"Eh," I shrugged. "No school for me then," I chuckled. "And urm, well, you're my friend now and it's basically my fault as to why you got sick."

"No one's ever made me soup before."

"Not even your parents?" I asked, she looked at me but didn't say anything.

"I can't believe I'm telling you this." She shook her head. "But I only have one and this one isn't my real father. My mother was a prostitute and tried to sell me for drugs," she said, finally speaking up.

"I'm sorry," I practically blurted out.

"It's fine," she squeaked from behind her blanket.

"Well, now I'm gonna show you how it feels to be cared for."

Ebony's face screwed up, she was probably a little worried about what I was going to do. I fluffed up her pillows and pulled back the blanket on her bed.

"Sit back." She scooted slowly against her pillows.

I pulled the covers over her and ran downstairs to her kitchen.

I knew it was wrong to just roam through her cabinets, but I did it anyway. I was looking for tea which she so-happened to have. So I turned on a kettle of water.

"What are you doing!?" she asked, somehow quietly sneaking up on me. I jumped at her sudden appearance.

"Shit! You scared me!" I laughed. "I'm making tea for you, it helps when you're sick."

"Stop! I don't want your help! I can take care of myself!"

"Too late, it's already done," I said and poured her the tea.

"I don't want anyone to help me! I don't want anyone to care for me!"

"Why?"

"I— I didn't have help in the past! Why do I need it now?! I— I've taken care of myself and got this far." She started to cry.

"Well, now you need to learn how to let someone care for you... as a friend," I said and walked over to her, not sure of how to calm her down.

I've learned (from watching movies) that to calm down a crying girl is to embrace them. So I did exactly that, I wrapped my arms around her and put my chin on her head since there was a height difference.

I felt her body shiver from her sobs. It rippled through me and I felt like I was feeling her pain.

She was on her own, dealing with personal problems in such a wrong way. I didn't really know what Ebony had been through. I just wanted her to tell me so that I could help.

Ebony's POV:

I hate crying, but it just exploded out of me.

Why does he do this; pretend that he cares? Why is he even trying? And he dares to hold me? I can do things myself, take care of myself, cook for myself. I didn't need him to fake caring for me when we just met two days ago.

His warmth and comfort just agitated me even more. I didn't want it. So I pushed him.

"Get off of me! I don't need to be held by you!"

"I was just trying to calm you down," he muttered.

Still wondering why I was crying, I stormed to my living room and curled up into a ball on my couch. I felt the couch cushions sink a few seconds later, so I knew Luke had followed me. I looked up, he was staring.

What does he want now?

"Can you tell me what's happened to you? You know, just tell me why you're so closed up, why you hate the world, why you hate people. It can help, it's good to talk to someone about these things," he said.

He really asked me that. Why did he want to know? I thought about how I already broke down in front of him, so now what was there to lose?

I felt a sad smirk form on my face. "Well, I've cried my eyes out," I sadly laughed.

He slouched into the back of the couch. "I'm ready," he said.

"My lovely, lovely, happy backstory," I lied, of course he knew I was lying too.