Crestfallen

16: Perky Tits

Two things: I got new glasses and I fucking love how hot Joseph Morgan is.

I regret a lot of things: letting my mom take my sister away, not being able to help my dad, but taking Jeremy to my house might top all those things.

My bag was still at school with my keys in it, but my dad usually loses his so we— I keep a spare one inside an old lamp that we keep by the front door. Jeremy was hardly conscious - again, and I had to drag him all the way to my house. It was only about five kilometers away from school, but it seemed farther when you were carrying twice the body mass.

I unlocked the door and pulled him through the threshold. I looked back at the bloody trail we'd left as we'd trudged through the snowy turmoil. Sighing, I shut the door behind us.

"Don't move," I stated, unwrapping my arm from his cold body and heading to the bathroom for the one towel we owned. Poor people can't afford a linen closet, let alone the linens inside apparently.

I dropped the towel on the floor in front of him and he looked at me disbelievingly through his drooping eyelids.

"What? Blood is hard enough to clean as it is." I shrugged as he took a troubled step onto the towel.

"It's easy to get off of hardwood, all you do is wipe," he explained, his voice sounding tired.

"Fine, when this is done, you can 'wipe'," I declared, smirking at him. He scowled and I rolled my eyes, bringing my attention back to the problem at hand. "Here, come sit on the couch." I moved the towel with him —yes, it was very awkward— and he dropped onto my couch like a rock in the ocean. I squatted and took into account how much blood was covering his pants.

"I don't really have anything to fix this with," I told him worriedly as I rolled up his pant leg to examine the wound. "Holy crap." I grimaced at the torn stitching and the blood that was gushing out steadily.

"What did you do?" I questioned concernedly, frowning up at him. It was no use as his lolled from side to side, barely managing to stay conscious.

Oh gosh. What am I going to do? I don't have stitches, I don't even have yarn! Not that that would be a sanitary option.

Okay, Casey, you got this. Your dad still has that first aid kit in the cupboard above the fridge, right?

"Don't mo—" I paused and cut myself short, realizing that he couldn't move either way. I got off my knees and made my way to the kitchen which was conveniently located just behind the couch. Perks of having the tiniest house ever.

Aside from Jeremy's of course.

I blocked out my drifting thoughts and pulled out the first aid kit that was stored for emergencies. You know, for those few moments before the paramedics arrived.

I opened the box and found a large gauze pad, rubbing alcohol, some bandaids, and a pair of tweezers. I grimaced and went to my bedroom. I reached into my bedside table and pulled out my dad's alcohol that is confiscated from him a while back.

As I returned, Jeremy's eyes were shut and his breathing was shallow.

Better shallow than non-existent.

I drew my eyebrows together as I prepared for what I was about to do. I couldn't stitch it up, but I could slow the bleeding until Macy was done her Math final. I know it's a dumb and ridiculous reason, but it's her departmental and it's worth 30% of her grade. If she misses it, they won't let her retake it and I won't let that happen.

I brought the bottle to my lips and took a quick swig, swallowing the burning sensation along with the liquid. I pinched my eyes shut and opened them widely.

With a deep breath, I made sure the towel was still in place as I poured the alcohol on his gash. The moment that the fluid touched his open wound, Jeremy's eyes snapped open and he howled in agony. My features drew together, but I kept pouring to disinfect the cut.

"Motherfucker!" He exclaimed loudly as he nearly leaped off the sofa. "Fucking bitch!"

I flinched and stopped pouring, deeming it to be an acceptable amount of disinfectant. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed one of our two clothes and rinsed it. I hurried back and wiped away the blood from around his leg. The blood flow had slowed drastically and it looked a lot less ugly once most of the blood was gone.

I peeled the paper film off the gauze pad and stuck it to his shin. I frowned at the way it protruded, but it'd have to do for now. It wasn't sticking very well either so I quickly jogged to my room and searched for tape. I grimaced once more when all I could find was duct tape.

I came back a little slower with an unenthusiastic expression on my face. Jeremy's eyes opened the slightest crack and the second he saw the tape in my hand, he tried to scramble away from me. I sighed, "I don't want to do this any more than you want me to do this. I may not like you, but trust me, this isn't how I deal with dislike."

I held him down by his legs which was surprisingly easy. Then again, he was suffering from what seemed to be severe blood loss. I pulled the tape off the roll with a sickening noise. It was the usual noise it made when you ripped it, but it sounded so much worse when you thought of it sticking to his legs. Plus, boys don't shave their legs.

I wrapped it around the gauze and his leg, using a generous amount of tape to keep it in place. Unfortunate for him, but necessary if he wasn't going to the hospital any time soon.

"Here you go, stubborn butt." I gave him a small smile as I handed him what was left of the whiskey.

"Thanks, perky tits," he murmured as he took the alcohol from my hands and downed what was left. He then let the empty bottle roll beside him on the couch as I removed the towel from under his feet.

"I'm going to let that one slide, only because you're practically delusional from blood loss," I informed him, throwing the cloth and towel into the laundry machine. I grabbed my dirty clothes and threw them in as well. I didn't want my dad to see the blood— not that he'd notice, but I didn't want to take any chances. I started it and returned to the living room, only to find Jeremy unconscious.

Nice.

I didn't have the strength to move him, but I didn't know how long my dad would be at the bar for— spending the money we don't have. I've been trying to get a part-time job for ages, but no one is hiring and if they are, they want someone who can work full hours. I quickly wiped down the blood that was in the front foyer and took a quick peek behind the door. The snow had pretty much covered the trail by now, it was simply covering our tracks, how convenient.

"Jeremy? I need you to wake up, we're going to your place," I declared, grabbing my heaviest jacket. I was about to exchange it for the sweater that I was wearing when my eyes caught sight of the long-sleeved shirt Jeremy was wearing.

"Karma, please pay me back for this, because he sure won't," I muttered as I brought my winter coat over to Jeremy. I helped him put it on and I grabbed my one other sweater to put over top of the one I was already wearing. I grabbed my one pair of mittens and gave one to Jeremy while wearing the other one. I found my dads toque and threw it on his head while I grabbed a dusty old fuzzy hat that I wore when I was seven that read, Unicorns do exist!

I wrapped the one scarf I owned around my neck and stepped into my winter boots. The worn sneakers he wore looked painful, but I needed these winter boots. Even though they were at least three sizes too big, I needed them. I didn't know what I could do for him. An idea popped into my head as I sat him down on the bench in the foyer. I grabbed two pairs of socks and took off his shoes, putting the socks on. I put his shoes back on and I put the hand with the mitten around his waist as I helped him up. He limped while resting a large amount of his weight on me as we walked.

I opened the door and welcomed the cold, simply praying that I wouldn't end up with pneumonia.