The Undercover Bad Boy

Chapter Fourteen - Craters

Chapter Fourteen - Craters

He came inside my house, stumbling slightly as he entered. He was walking with a limp in his right foot, his shoulders sagged low and his eyes had lost their usual energetic spark. He looked exhausted.

"Zach, easy now," I said, catching him before he almost collapsed. With slow paced movements, I made the familiar walk into the living room, allowing him to lean on my shoulder for support.

I wordlessly rested him down on the sofa and crouched low next to him, so we were at the a similar level of height.

"What happened to you?"

"Ran away-" he took a sharp intake of breath. "-from home. Sorry. I got into a fight with my parents-"

"Your parent's did this to you?"

He shook his head violently. "Of course not. We got into an argument. I ran out the door. I was angry, like major angry. I decided to go to a stupid fight club to let off some steam. Kind of regret it. Won my match. The guy that I fought with got his friends to beat me up. After that I got jumped in an alleyway by some other guy who wants me dead," his voice faltered. He didn't seem to be in his normal state of mind. "Sorry for coming here at like two in the morning. I couldn't go back to my house, not like this."

I realised that I was running my fingers through his hair in the attempt to comfort him. I stopped and withdrew my hand away. "It's fine. It seems like you've had a pretty crappy night, feel free to stay here."

He smiled gratefully in return.

"I think you should probably take a shower, you look terrible - no offence. After that I'll have a look at your injuries. I'm going to tell you this now, I am definitely no doctor. I can give you a few painkillers, clean up a few of your cuts, but that is about as far as my medical ability goes," I said, hoping that whatever injuries Zach received were only minor. I didn't even want to imagine what would happen if he needed stitches. Needles. Urgh. Just, no.

"Alex, it's okay. That's all I need," he assured. He held a hand up to balance himself as he sat up. "Where's the bathroom?"

Rather than watching him struggle, I decided to aid him. I pulled him off of the couch and helped him climb up the stairs. I then directed him to the bathroom. I pointed at the two different taps, telling him which was the hot water and which was the cold.

"Do you need anything else? Extra clothes?" I questioned, grabbing a large fluffy towel from the airing cupboard and then passed it to him.

"Seriously, Alex, it's okay. You've done so much already. I've got it covered," grinned Zach, even though it was obvious that he trying to conceal how much pain he was in. He pointed to a shabby backpack that he was carrying over his shoulder.

"Okay. I'll be in my bedroom if you need anything."

I exited the bathroom and entered my room. The familiar smell of my favourite body spray invaded my senses.

I leaned against my door. I inhaled loudly, breathing in the scent of vanilla. When I exhaled, I tried to make sense of the situation I had gotten myself into. Zach was in my house. He was taking a shower. He was going to stay the night. We were home alone.

We were just friends.

I was wearing a pair of red pyjama bottoms, a dark, oversized t-shirt advertising one of my favourite bands and a black hoodie - because it was too cold to not wear one otherwise.