The Mormon Renegade

Chapter 20

Knock knock

Weird. I swear the knocking in my dreams are so real they echo in the dim apartment. 

Knock knock

Hang on.. I nudge Scout in the shin beside me. Mmmph she grunts, the fabric of her pj's rustles from her changing positions setting the chair off balance and we meet the floor in a muted badoof without warning.

Once the initial shock wears off we are overcome by a hilarious string of hearty laughter which has the unintended effect of waking Jake from his deep slumber. Using great effort to raise his head hanging over the mattress end the door shudders at the over applied force rapping it.

Bang bang bang

"Who the hell is that so early in the morning?" Scout groans making no effort to get up, slippered feet dangling on the leather front. "Mmm, nope, it's two pm." Jake's groggy morning voice --while sexy and arousing-- is like an electric shock that sends Scout flying to her feet so fast she almost topples over.

"Shit, I'm late to meet Ashley for brunch." Covering her mouth in complete and utter astonishment, I stay put staring at the ceiling still seated in the upturned armchair. "Exactly how late are you?"

She chews her bottom lip anxiously, burying her pink face in open palms she muffles the sentence, "About three hours." 

Jake and I are choking on withheld giggles, our watery eyes meet across the room in a silent strain fighting to contain the bodily spasms. "Bahaha!" Even Scout joins in unable to ignore the unfortunate predicament she is in. 

Bang bang

"Hello?" A suppressed male voice shouts.

"Ugh, Jesus Christ, what is so important--?" She peeks through the peephole on raised toes, whoever is behind the door makes her cut off the question prematurely. Slamming the light switch on, she rubs her eyes and checks again.

Jake falls silent. I rotate so my elbows support my body, shimmying free of the leather couch. "Tris, grab Jake and hide in the bathroom." Alarm bells start to ring in my mind at her unnervingly controlled whisper. "Why?" 

I fear I already know the answer which is confirmed by Scout's apologetic look quickly sobering up at their sight. "It's you're parents." Usually her name for them was, "Lilith and Abaddon" referencing the notorious demons in theology.

"Wait, can someone fill me in--" His speech is muzzled by my cupped hand. Dragging him by the the shirt hem, exposing part of his toned abdomen as we squash inside the one by one metre bathroom. 

I urge his silence, pleading him via eye contact as Scout raises her voice above average speaking volume to ensure we capture the conversation. Several clicks later, the wooden entrance creaks open, "Do you mind? I'd appreciate if you didn't break my door before I have a chance to replace it."

Scout is a god-sent, I could only wish lying came so easily to me. Had I been in their shoes her story would convince me without fail. "Are you Scout Taylor-Compton?" My blood boils at the fake nice shout evoked from my mother. 

"I'm pretty sure it's Charlie Ray, but you're free to ask around." She is as desperate as I am to get rid of them. 

Jake rests his hip against the levitating sink, I sit on the toilet lid folding my legs under me so they won't get cold on the black tiles. "Tristan?" He asks guardedly, I snap an index finger to my lips indicating he hush while continuing to eavesdrop.

It was rude but I'm too fearful by my discovery to care. "Drop the act Scout, we recognise you from the Parrish."

"I am known to leave an impression." She announces smugly.

Someone clears their throat. "Are you going to let us in?" I always detested their intrusive personalities, as did Beckette. Thankfully Scout hasn't allowed them entry or the countless clues of extra belongings would reveal someone elses presence. She sighs inattentively, "I have no obligation to." 

A phone is handed to me, opened on a page resembling a note pad. 'How old are you?' Is written in standard font, the qwerty board on the bottom half of the screen. Multitasking a type back and listening I return the device to Jake. I can feel his leering at me.

'Seventeen turning eighteen' He seems mildly amazed by the revelation.

"Don't play innocent with us we remember Michelle--" Scout shuts them up.

"There is no one who lives under this roof by that name," Her attempts to shut the door are interrupted by something I can't figure out. "If you don't remove your foot from this door I am entitled to report you for breaking and entering." Jake holds up the phone again, one word is seen with a question mark.

'Runaway?' After careful assessment of him and brisk consideration I nod, trembling lightly.

There is a deafening quietude that occurs. "We'll never understand what could possibly divert someone from such a righteous path." I want to gag on those words and strangle them while I do so. 

"You don't need to, you'll see your God soon enough if you don't fuck off." There it is. Scout is the only person in the world who can speak my mind to a 't'. 

Staring unfocused at the rusty drain halfway of Jake and I, the distant schlk of a closing door is disturbed by the explosive smash of a glass cup shattering on the bathroom tiles.