A Match Made In Hell

Chapter 4

T'was a long day.

By the time I got home it was ten at night.

I guess Sandra Blake has her own policy about sharing cause right after her little taste test with Saros she made sure to have his attention for the rest of the day. Which was fine by me. It was about maybe a fifteen to twenty minute conversation at best but that alone was enough Saros I had for one day. I talked with Juliet and laughed with Roland during the remaining time. Once we all finished we paid our bills and left a tip then parted ways.

I gave Sandra an impassive wave and she just as awkwardly returned it. Fair enough. I had planned on simply saying 'Bye' to Saros but then he wrapped one arm around my lower back and before I could look up at him in question he already had me pinned against his side. A low squeak thrummed behind my throat at what seems to be a loose side hug.

"Text me" His mouth scarcely buries into my hair whispering in my ear. I don't remember what I said in reply. Or if I even said anything back at all. All I remember is the bolt that went up my spine and how the hairs stood at the nape of my neck.

Juliet gave me a curious look and I give her a dumbfounded shrug in response. Truly I had no idea what the hell that was about. Thankfully her and everyone else decided to forget about it once we got to her house. I spent the rest of the day playing games, watching movies, and eating snacks with my friends. Just as it should be. Then I got dropped off back home just an hour after my mom. The house was quiet when I arrived so I trudged up the stairs, put my backpack down beside the bed, brushed my teeth, and then knocked out without another word.

By the time I woke up the next morning I wish I could say it was because I smelled the aroma of fresh bacon and sizzling eggs. But no it was the sound of glass breaking and a loud curse that made me spring up in bed throwing off the covers.

"God dammit!" I hear a voice echo from the staircase. I approach it quietly making my way downstairs to where I heard the source of the crash. When I reach the last step and peer into the kitchen I see a grown man crouching over his knees hurriedly trying to pick up shattered pieces of a plate.

"Dad?" I ask aloud. He jumps at the sound of my voice banging his head against the kitchen island. "Oh my God! Dad!" I yell hurriedly crossing the living room and into the kitchen. I grab him from under his arms and heave him back onto his feet. He sways groaning softly and clutching the side of his head. I sit him down on one of the chairs.

"Let me see. Let me see. Does it hurt really bad? Are you okay?" I ask clasping his hand in mine and gently moving it away from his head to take a look. On his forehead I see a small bump forming with a purplish blue tint.

"IwastryingtogetfoodbutItripped" He murmurs gruffly all in one breath. His breath hits my nose reeking of alcohol and I wince immediately taking a step back. He seems to notice but I try to cover it up by going over to the freezer to get ice. I place a couple in a zip lock bag then put it against his head.

"Now what was that you were saying?"

"I said Iwastryingtogetfoodbut-"

"Dad you're slurring" I sigh running a hand through my tangled hair. "Repeat that again but this time slower, okay?"

"I was trying to get food but I slipped" He says. His eyes droopy and his head still swaying as he speaks. "The plate fell and I was trying to cleanitup" I take that time to glance at the tiled flooring where pieces of the fine china were scattered about. I sigh and give his shoulder a squeeze.

"You go rest, Dad. I'll clean it up and I'll make breakfast." I say already bending towards the floor. I start to picking up the discarded pieces watching Dad wobble back onto his feet.