Unholy

9

"What's going on?" Jughead asks as he comes into the room without knocking. 

"Nothing!" I say at the same time as Sweet Pea says

"I'm checking her wounds." Sweet Pea sends me a glare for speaking and Jughead raises an eyebrow.

"Okay? I just came to check on you, Heather. How are you?"

"I'm kind of sore and weak," I admit.

"Will you be able to go to school tomorrow?" He asks me. Tomorrow is Monday.

"Yeah, for sure. I'll be fine." I say. He nods, believing me.

"Was that Sweet Pea's knife you were using last night?" He asks me with a knowing smirk. I don't know what he thinks he knows because nothing is going on here.

"Yeah. I took it from him the day he fought with Reggie."

"And he hasn't fought you over it? That thing was like a nightie to him growing up. Instead of having a blanket or something, he had that knife. Kind of weird if you ask me."

"That's enough, Jones. Do I need to show you the door?" Sweet Pea stands and points hard at Jughead and the beanie-wearing boy raises his hands in surrender.  When he leaves, I turn to Sweet Pea.

"A knife?" 

"Fuck you, Princess."

"When? Are you sure you can keep up?" I mock him from earlier and it almost looks like he is going to do something when he stands in front of me sitting on the edge of his bed, but he shakes his head and leaves the room. I get up myself and walk to the bathroom and look in the mirror. I look awful. Blood has come up to just below the skin around my eyes due to being choked. My hair is matted and tangled from the fight and being in bed for hours and not showering in like two days. Oil is glistening on my cheeks, forehead, and nose. God, that's enough oil to power a car.

"Sweet Pea?" I call out and he grunts in response from somewhere around the place. "Can I take a shower? I look like shit." 

"Yeah, sure. Here's some towels. Toni left some clothes for you tomorrow in case you go to school. Either way, you're going home tomorrow." He shoves two towels at me and I close the door and strip out of the shirt. It hurts to raise my arms above my head but I manage. In his shower, all he has is some sort of men's body wash and off-brand shampoo and conditioner which stresses me out. This skin is sensitive and this hair is far too good for bad shampoo. I unwrap the bandage on my arm and knuckle and thankfully, the bandage on my side is waterproof. I step under the steady stream of hot water and almost moan at the feeling of the heat on my muscles. I take my time washing my body and hair until the water starts to turn cold. The mirror in the bathroom is fogged up when I step out so I write a little thanks in the condensation. I slip the shirt back on and head back to the bedroom. The door is closed so I knock. I head a soft "shit" and some rustling. Seconds later, a flustered looking Sweet Pea.  He looks me up and down and shoves past me.

"Where are you going?" I ask.

"Out." He yells and the front door slams shut. There is nothing to do in this house except watch tv so I flip it on and put on TLC. The show is mind-numbingly pointless and I feel like I have been put in a trance with how numb I am watching this. Hours pass with me sitting in one spot, not moving and hardly blinking. Sweet Pea comes back around ten. He flings the door open and stumbles in carelessly. He looks over at my startled figure and casts me a lazy smile. 

"Are you drunk?" I ask him.

"No, your drunk." He laughs. He plops down next to me and begins to watch the girl show her dress to her family. "It's ugly. When I get married I want my girl to have whatever dress she wants. Not what her family picks out." He rambles and I look at him with my mouth open.