Behind the Glasses || a.i.

Chapter 20

Explanation for yesterday's missed update at the end. Here is a decently long chapter full of new drama.

 

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 I wake up to a phone. The sun is high in the sky, and I hear snoring. I sit up, looking around to find Ashton on the bed beside me, fast asleep. The clock reads ten. I answer the call, heading out into the living room. I am confused to see Luke, laying face-down on my sofa. I walk out into the hallway, mumble a sleepy, “Hello?”

 “Trin, it’s Calum.”

 “Calum? How did you get my number?”

 “I’m at Sierra’s house, and Michael is here, too. Are Luke and Ashton at your place?” he asks, seeming worried.

 “Yeah, they’re both asleep,” I assure him. “Why are you at Sierra’s?”

 “We crashed here because it was too late to drive home,” he explains. I wince at his choice of words. “How are you today? Any better?”

 “Well anything’s better than last night,” I groan. “I’m really sorry you had to see that. So much is going on, and I guess it all came out at once.” I laugh nervously.

 “Listen, Sierra already called bookstore, and you aren’t working until Monday.”

 “Calum, I have to work,” I reply.

 “You’ll be better off getting a few days off to calm down a bit. I told her about how upset you were, so she called the lady who owns the store, and you’re off the hook until you can get back up on your feet.”

 “Thanks,” I say politely, smiling even though I would much rather go to work. “How’s Diana?”

 “Umm…She’s alright,” he says, his voice rising a few octaves.

 “Good,” I sigh in slight relief.

 “I gotta go. Michael wants to get back home.”

 I nod, even though I know full well it is not visible to him. “Yeah, I should probably go check on the other two,” I agree. “I’ll see you around.”

 “Bye,” he finishes, hanging up.

 I collect myself before heading back in. I close the door a little too loudly than I intended to. I recoil at the echo. Luke rolls over slightly, nearly falling off of the couch, but he rolls back the other way just as quickly. He groans, lifting his head. I gasp at the sight of his face. “Oh my god.”

 “Huh?” he mumbles, opening his eyes. His gaze meets mine, and my hand goes up to my mouth.

 “What happened to your face?” I exclaim. I step forward to examine it closer. His jaw is purple and red, swollen on the right side. His nose is blue and yellow, and his lip has a trail of dry blood coming from where his lip ring once was. His face has been fashioned in purposeful affliction.

 “It hurts,” he says, not answering my previous query.

 “Come here,” I proclaim, wandering off to the kitchen. I grab an ice pack from to freezer, wrapping a paper towel around it. I put it aside, and have him lean against the counter. I went a cloth, wiping away gently at the blood stain on his chin. He winces, causing me to apologize every time. I concentrate solely on the cut in his lip. “Your ring is gone,” I inform him.

 “I know,” he tells me, “Hurts like hell.”

 I rummage through a cabinet for the elusive first aid kit. When I find it, I bring it back over to where Luke is standing and pull out a temporary butterfly stitch. “This is probably going to feel weird, but you can’t take it off for at least twenty-four hours,” I explain, sticking it to his lip to keep the wound closed.