Survival of the Fittest

Chapter Six: Trouble

‘Do you have any idea how worried we’ve been? You leave a note, a note, telling us you’ve gone out and not to worry? After the day we’ve had, you do that?’

So they’d noticed I was gone. And they weren’t particularly happy about it either. Luckily, mum had waited until after she’d finished Dominic’s stitches to shout at me, otherwise I think Dominic’s side might have actually been worse after stitches than before – aggressive stitching isn’t good. Trust me, I know.

Dominic had been sent to bed a few minutes earlier after a lot of coddling from my mother – to my bed, might I add – apparently I wasn’t allowed any sleep tonight because I went out. Oh well, I’d just sleep on the sofa or something. I could have slept in Jonah’s bed but… if would’ve felt wrong.

‘I’m sorry mum,’ I mumbled, not meeting my mother’s eyes. ‘I just- I just-’

‘You just what, Clematis Tamsin Richards?!’ she demanded, eyes bulging when I glanced up for a split second – and then regretted it. She looked mad. I remembered how she had looked earlier – a few hours ago now – sat on the guest room’s bed, crying over a photo, and tried looking at her again, harder this time, and now noticed the red eyes and the almost crazed look they held. I almost sighed with relief when I realised that not all her wrath was aimed at me, but also at her own situation – all of our situation – with Jonah, and to an extent, Peter too.

‘I’m sorry mum,’ I repeated. ‘I just had to get away to think. Did-’ I hesitated. ‘Did dad tell you what we talked about earlier?’ I asked cautiously, anxious that he might not have wanted mum to know about our conversation. My worries were released, however, when her eyes softened at my words.

‘He told me,’ she said gently. Then she sighed. ‘Oh Clematis, don’t do that to me again, okay? Do you have any idea how worried I was?’

‘I can guess,’ I said, sending her a small smile, and she held her arms out for a hug, which I gladly entered.

‘Oh, and Clematis?’ she continued, her words muffled by my hair. I grunted yes. ‘No TV for a month.’

Well, I suppose it was a relatively light punishment.

Six hours later at half eight in the morning I awoke on the sofa in our living room. For a moment I was confused as to why I was there, and when it all came rushing back to me I almost groaned. It was not a good thing to be reminded of quite that much emotion all at once.

I walked around the house for a while, checking to see if anyone was awake, but found no one. I sighed, and after a minute’s deliberation of what to do, I decided to do something nice and bring food to the injured boy who had stolen my room. So I loaded a tray full of various breakfasts – I didn’t know what he liked – and made my way to his room.

Opening the door to my room halfway, I was met by an amusing sight. Dominic was lying spread-eagled across the bed, the covers half on the floor so that his back was on display. The very faint sound of snoring was being emitted too – though it was stifled by the mattress. I laughed and pushed the door the rest of the way open so that it hit the wall behind it. At the noise of the collision Dominic jumped up and off the bed, immediately alert, but then stumbled a little on the landing. I laughed again.

‘Graceful,’ I snorted, and he, seeming to remember where he was, glared at me, but I could see him holding back a smile. Then his gaze landed on the tray in my hands and his eyes lit up.

‘Food?’ he said, sounding incredibly excited. I gave him a look that basically said ‘you’re weird’, and he sent me a lopsided grin back.

It was then, while he grinned at me, that it struck me how good-looking this boy was. And how shirtless.