A lie in church. ON RADISH

9-Bruises

Listen to Faded by Alan Walker.

I could still feel the smile on my face after Adrian walked out of my room. It was too soon to be getting comfortable with anyone, especially someone related to the asshole who had stolen my life away from me. Adrian was sweet and had been so nice to me since I'd gotten here, but I didn't want to read too much into it.

I'd allowed him to see me cry like a baby and opened up to him about how broken I felt about my family throwing me out, and honestly, I felt lighter, as if a weight had been lifted off my chest. I guessed I never asked myself why my family had given up on me so easily.

I missed Grey. I wanted to hate him and stay mad at him for believing everything that had gone down in the church, but I wanted us to talk. He still refused to answer my calls or my texts.

I looked around, searching frantically for my phone to call Vina. I wanted to talk to her about Adrian. Maybe she would knock some sense into me and tell me not to warm up to him because he couldn't be trusted.

"Where is the stupid phone?!" I screamed in frustration.

I found it under the duvet and quickly dialed her number.

"Pick up the phone, Vina." I dialed again, but she didn't answer the call.

I grunted, burying my face in my palms. I groaned again, not sure what I was really afraid of.

A light knock on my door made me jump.

"Chloe, are you awake?" I heard Tristan's voice.

I reached to turn off the lamp, but the door opened. I pulled my hand away and stared at him.

"Why are you staring at me like that?" he asked, cocking his naturally carved eyebrows. He folded his arms and leaned on the doorframe, waiting for an answer.

"What do you want?" I asked, not looking at him. I hated his presence. Every time I saw him or heard his voice, I felt enraged, and I just wanted to ram my fist through his face.

He shook his head at my question and walked into the room.

"I didn't invite you in," I said, shooting him a glare.

"Why aren't you dressed for bed?" he asked, ignoring my anger.

"I was busy."

"Doing what?"

"Playing sudoku."

He chuckled, shaking his head.

To be honest, I despised that game. I could never understand it. My mom used to force my sister and me to play it; she'd said it was good for the brain.

"Do you need help with anything?" he asked, stopping a few feet away from the bed.

I admired his white sweatpants, wishing I could have them. I looked away and met his deep blue eyes.