SomeWhere On... (BXB)

...Monroe Avenue, USA

My cab gets to the front of his house, tires sliding past the driveway and the front door. My teeth're chattering as I tip the guy and he drives off. I didn't tell anyone I was coming. Murph's been messaging me less and less, and I knew he wouldn't want me to come anyways.

I packed everything I needed into a backpack. Not just because there's still snow on the ground, but because my flight back's in two days.

Murph's bedroom lights are on. And that automatically makes me really nervous.

I ring the doorbell. And I open the door. My hands shake and I kick off my shoes.

"Hello?" calls his aunt. She rounds a corner from the kitchen and eyes me. "Toumas? Do you know what toime it is?"

Yep. It's 5AM. I still nod.

"What're you doin' here?" she whispers.

"I had to come," I whisper, dropping pretty much everything at the front door. "I'll come back for it later, 'kay?"

"Wait!" she calls, but I'm up the stairs and gone already.

Murph's at his computer desk, slouched over with his head hanging back. His glasses are off and folded to the side of his laptop. At the sound of his bedroom door closing, he blinks and swivels around. "Tommy?"

I hear his aunt outside. "Toumas, let him – "

So I lock the door. She knocks hard for a good two minutes.

"Tommy, you can't lock the door."

I sigh, and begin walking towards him.

"Tommy, I'm not kidding. There's a rule." He stands to go unlock it.

But I push him back into the chair, sit in front of him, and whisper, "What's wrong?"

"I have to go unlock – " He stands, but I push him back down.

"What's wrong?"

He sighs and shakes his head. "What're you doing here?"

"What's wrong?"

"Tommy – "

"Murph. What's wrong?"

He doesn't answer. He tries to swivel away.

I grab his hands and swing him back my way. "No. You don't get to pull this shit with me."

"Tommy, my aunt – "

"I don't care if everyone in your fucking town can hear me. You've been moping for months over this."

He flashes me a smile. "It's nothing."

I grit my teeth. "What did I say?" I ask, raising my voice. "You don't get to decide if I get to worry about you."

Murph's frozen watching me. I'm terrifying him. "I didn't say you couldn't." His face is twisting in fear and something else.

I get on my knees. "Then what's wrong?"

When Murph tries to swivel away again, I pull him back. His eyes've glossed over.

I bring him back. "What did I say?" My voice comes out way louder than I thought it would. Murph's shaking. "You don't get to fucking decide if I get to worry about you. You don't get to decide that. I'll worry about you until you're okay. And you're not okay, Murph." I take in a shaking breath. "Now tell me what's wrong." When Murph looks away, I groan and whisper through my teeth, "I'll get louder, I swear to God."