Between The Lines

2| between the curiosity

Morose's POV
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B E T W E E N
T H E
L I N E S
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"Pizza or Chinese?" Ben questions as we drive home and I shrug.

"Whatever you like." He doesn't say anything, just let's put a soft sigh, as he usually does. "Have you been to your therapist?" He asks.

"Yes."

"And?"

"And?" I repeat sharply and he closes his mouth, causing me to feel guilty. "And. . . She says I'll be fine."

He puts his hand over mine and squeezes, throwing me a soft smile which I try to return.

We end up at a diner, not to far from home. "We're eating together. Let's go."

I remove my seat belt and trudge behind him slowly, his curls bouncing slightly over his forehead, his green eyes cold and calculating.

I did that.

I turned a high spirited young man, into a man who was always on edge, always protective.

He barely hung out with his friends, it was just work, then me. And although I loved the company, I was taking up his life.

But all of that would change. I wrap my arms around myself as the Air conditioning from inside hits me. Only eleven more months and he would be free.

"What are you feeling for?"

"A burger. Maybe some fries?

"Apple soda or sprite?"

"Arizona." He pouts and I can't help but giggle, choosing a booth to slide into. He waits on the side, and my feet bounces from under the table.

A habit I had when I realized I didn't have the notebook with me. The door chimes, and I frown as Marcus and an unrecognizable female walks in. He was laughing at whatever she said, and I looked away so I wouldn't appear to be eavesdropping or desperate.

A tray appeared in front of me, and it was then I realized that I was hungry.

The smell of freshly salted fries had my mouth watering, I wasted no time putting them into my mouth.

"Slow down their gorilla." Ben snorts and I roll my eyes at him. "How was school?" My eyes immediately dart to the boy who now sat across from me, he caught me staring and my eyes widen as I being the back to my food.

"It was fine." I answer tightly.

"Who is that? Is he from your school? Is he bothering you?" Ben was about to stand when I put my hands on his.

"No, no, it's fine." I murmur and he looks at me unsure. "Is everything at work okay? Did you get the investors?"

That distracted him.

Ben was a manager at some big shot business. He's been trying for weeks to get a certain investor to at least come and look over their plan.

He goes into detail and although I was nodding and shaking my head, couldn't help but be occupied by the boy who kept stealing glances at me.

_ _ _

"Remember, just ignore her jabs, and pretend it doesn't bother you. My mom practically feeds on fear and sadness." But I already knew that.

We enter the front of the nicely painted house, and there she sat, sipping on some white wine in her Gucci and whatever else she wasted money on.

"Ben! Oh darling, how was your day?" She stands, rushing towards him with her arms open and he forces on a smile.

"It was fine, and yours?" By this time I was making my way upstairs, ready to lock myself in when she called out to me.

"Do you mind doing something for me? The private bathroom is clogged and—,"

"Mom, she had homework and stuff to get done. I'll do it." The woman scrunches up her face, her wrinkles that she tried so hard to hide, showing without mercy.

"Ben," she stressed. "You have work, you don't have time—,"

"Sure I do. Go get your stuff done Morose, I'll take care of it." Throwing him a grateful look, I trudge up the stairs and shut my door.

My eyes skin around the room, and I remove my shoes, sitting on the bed and pulling myself up to the headboard, my knees to my chest.

This was not my room. I thought, even as this was the place I slept in each and every night.

And this was not my home. I thought, as I heard angry scoldings all the way from downstairs.

But everything would be okay. Soon.

_ _ _

"Have you ever read the book 'To Kill A Mockingbird'?" I jump away from my locker as Marcus starts off the conversation with the weirdest question.

"Sure," I answer timidly, pretending to be distracted and disinterested, but in all truth, I loved that book. "That's the one with Atticus, and Boo, right?"

He grins, "right. I sometimes wish I could be like Boo." I don't question him. "It's a shame really, we never really got to know what was going on in there."

"Have you ever read "The Art Of White Roses?'"

"I can't say I have." He says walking in step with me, even if I stretched my legs as far as the could reach to get away. "Tell me about it?"

"Well. . I would but, I'm going to enter my class, and it's thirty minutes earlier than you normally would. I wouldn't want to—," he enters the class, and takes a seat. Mr. Donavan looks annoyed but doesn't say anything. I sigh, taking a seat.

"I guess we're talking about Cuba then."