She pushes me in the house, swearing in Vietnamese. I stare at my bloody hand, feeling faint. I can’t stand blood. It freaks me out ever since Jace…
Merlyn works over my head, cleaning my wound. At one point, she notices me staring at my hand. She wraps a towel on it, just to spare me the sight. Once my head is blood-free, she gives me a coke and grilled cheese, making me consume both. She checks me for a concussion before allowing me to sleep, scolding me for sleeping on the train and in the cab. I’m asleep before my head hits her expensive guest pillows.
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When I wake up, I freak out momentarily. I have no idea where I am, until my head starts throbbing and I remember. The screaming. The blood. The beating. The running away.The blood. Merlyn doctoring me.
The blood….
It’s hot in here. The sun is streaming through the large bay window. I’m still wearing my skinnies and belt. My necklace is tangled in my hair, my bracelets are caught on my belt loop and my earrings are digging into my skull. After extracting myself from my effects, I shower. I hunt for some clean clothes, which Merlyn put in my room.
My stomach growls. I walk to the kitchen. It’s got a giant, gleaming fridge, shining stovetop, double oven, and granite countertops are a foodie’s (like me) dream come true. Oh yeah, did I mention that Merlyn is loaded? That’s the reason she has a house that most would kill for at the age of 18. She attends Ole Miss, has a smokin’ hot BF that’s a drummer in a fantastic band.
No fair.
I find a note on the fridge door. Merph is telling me to help myself and just chill ‘cause she doesn’t want my head wound opening up. That makes two of us. I decide to make an omelette. I’m in the middle of washing up when I heard Merlyn banging in the door. It was only 12:15…. Oh. She has morning classes.
Bleh. In my opinion, there is nothing worse than waking up at the crack of dawn to go to doctor school. She eventually makes her way into the kitchen. She looks exhausted. Whoops. She collapses into one of the barstools as I make her a coffee. She manages a “Thanks” and chugs it. When she’s done, she puts her mug down and asks, “What happened?”
I explain about the savage beating, the running away, and her trashing my room. Her jaw slowly drops open. She explodes. “What! How DARE her?!” I flinch. Her expression softens.
“It’s just… the whole thing. I-it reminds of…Jason. And that night. And I… I was so scared.” My voice cracks. I bury my face in my hands and sob. Merlyn stands and wraps her arms around my shoulders. I cry until I’m all out. When I finally stop, she speaks.”I think some clubbing will cheer you up.” I hiccup.”You think so?” I ask. She ‘uh huhs’ me and leads me towards the main bedroom.
She helps me pick out a dress (good thing we’re the same size, eh?), a black mini with ruffles on the hem. The sleeves are a floaty material that I can never remember the name of. She lends me a pair of FIVE freakin’ inches pumps. She does my makeup with a light hand, adding eyeliner and a bit of concealer to the purple circles under my eyes. I look pretty good, actually. Well, I guess I’m going clubbing. Even though I'm not one for parties, I have a feeling I'll enjoy this.
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Nameless
Teen FictionArin Greg has had a tramatic past, only made worse by her best friend leaving while they were children.Now, when she's all grown up, they randomly meet again.Can he help her with dealing with her brother's death, or will she never get over it?
