Skinny Love

Chapter Three

Whoa guys. It's been a while, hasn't it? I think you guys deserve this. I have like over 600 fans. I also finished my freshman year of high school and went to a FOSTER THE PEOPLE/THE KOOKS (with KIMBRA) concert with my best friend. And YES, it was amazing. Well, here's an update. I'm not dead, like you all were probably thinking. I've been around. Just y'know, not uploading. Still writing, though, I assure you. I can't stop that. Well, now I'm rambling. But anywhoooo, here you goo. 

-------------------------------------

Chapter Three

          Time didn’t really heal my wounds. It just covered them up, leaving a raw scar behind. A week later, Foster and I went back to school. He stayed the night almost every night now. The nightmares haunted me otherwise. He would drive me to school, and walk me to every class.

          We got asked if we were dating. We weren’t. We were just together. We knew the other’s pain. It was a different pain than losing a child or a parent. No one else understood us or how simple everyday things could remind you of your loss.

          I woke in the morning, with Foster’s strong arms around me.

          “Morning, skinny love,” he said. He’d started occasionally calling me ‘skinny love.’ He said I needed to last the year because I was his skinny love, and that it was our song.

          “Morning,” I mumbled, and he kissed my cheek.

          “It’s Friday. I have a game tonight,” he said. He’d been promoted to quarterback due to Luke’s death. Tonight was also an honor night for Luke.

          “You’re coming right?” he asked.

          “Yeah, Foster, I have to, I’m in the brass,” I nodded.

          “Don’t call me Foster, please? It feels all formal and weird. We’re too close now for you to not call me Decklan, Vi.”

          “Will you wear my jersey to school today?” he asked.

          “…Sure.”

          “Thanks,” He smiled and kissed my forehead. He hopped out of my bed, and went to take a shower. I laid in my bed, rolling over face down into my pillows. They smelled of Foster, I mean Decklan. My whole room was starting to smell like him. He had some of his clothes in my dresser and his cologne and bathroom stuff in my bathroom.

          He walked out of my bathroom, a towel draped loosely around his waist. He was drying his hair by running a towel through his hair. He grabbed his clothes out of my drawer and winked at me, gesturing to his toned abs.

          “Like what you see?”

          I rolled my eyes in response and got out of bed, picking out my clothes, and went to take a shower while he used the sink to brush his teeth and fix his hair. He left my bathroom, and I got out of the shower. I got dressed, and fixed my hair and makeup.

          I walked out into the kitchen, and he was making me breakfast. And by breakfast, I mean cereal. He turned around and handed me a bowl. We sat down at the table, sitting the comic between us so we could both read them. It was our routine.

          My mother walked in the room, dressed to the nines. Well, this is new. She usually left for work before I woke up. I looked up to see her dressed up, ready for work.

          “After you get back, we can go homecoming dress shopping! It’ll be perfect practice for the debutante ball next year.”

          “Oh, mom, I’m not going to go to homecoming. I--.”

          “Oh pish posh, it’s still early, a guy will ask you.”

          “I was thinking the other day about the debutante ball next year, and I’m just so excited, aren’t you?” she asks.

“Oh, yeah,” I smile falsely. She kissed my cheek and left. Well, that was just weird. We had hardly spoken since…Luke…

          “If you don’t want to do the whole debutante thing, why don’t you just tell her no?” Decklan asked.

          “I just don’t think that she can handle much more heartbreak right now,” I sighed and took our dishes to the sink.

          “Let me fix your sleeves,” he sighed, and got two rubber bands out of the drawer, rolling up the white jersey’s sleeves. He was number nineteen, and was wearing the red one.

          At our school, it was traditional for a football boy’s girlfriend to wear their away jersey when the game was home and vice versa. It seemed weird for me to wear his jersey, but hey, if it’s what he wanted, then fine.

          We got our stuff, and got in his car. We were always a little more cautious when driving now. I figured now would be as good of a time as any to tell Decklan.

          “I have to go to my dad’s this weekend.”

          “Oh,” he said, showing no emotion.

          “Will you come with me?” I asked. He glanced at me, and then looked back at the road.

          “Of course I will, Vi. I’ll do anything for you.” He said, and then broke out singing Foster the People’s song, ‘I’d Do Anything For You’ with the stereo. I laughed; Decklan really knew how to make me feel better.

          We entered school, and I could hear the whispers flying. I knew the whole jersey thing would cause a lot of gossip. He squeezed my hand, and I squeezed back, smiling to myself.

          “They’re all just jealous,” he said, his voice low and soft.

          “I know, that’s the problem,” I laughed.

          “Oh come on, you know you’re the one for me.”

          I laughed at this, and he gave me a look I couldn’t quite read.