Once on our floor, Molly looked at me with a pleading expression, and I knew that I was getting kicked out of our room for the night. She and Jason had more of a sex life than porn stars, I would assume. This assumption was based on my nonexistent knowledge of porn stars. I rolled my eyes at her and then pleaded with her, "At least let me get a few things first."
"That's cool. I'm gonna get Con settled in our room first, then I'll come down and give you my room key," Jason spoke before Molly could.
"Sounds good," I replied, smiling at the ever-trying-to-make-everyone-happy Jason.
I gathered my pajamas, which consisted of some running shorts and an oversized t-shirt, along with my toothbrush, a sweatshirt, and my phone charger. Then, I turned to Molly and said, "You've gotta stop kicking me out of places to bone."
"I know, I'm sorry. I just...I can't get enough of him. He's so...just...," Molly struggled to find the words to describe the obsession she and Jason had for each other. It was endearing, even if it was an inconvenience. I hoped to find someone that important to me one day.
"I get it, Moll," I laughed. "I'll see you in the morning." I waved at her as I walked toward the door. As I opened it, Jason stood there with his hand primed to knock.
He smiled at me apologetically and nodded, "Thanks, Ruthie. I'm sorry. Conner's knocked, so you should be fine to do whatever."
"Don't be too loud," I winked at him as I passed through the doorway.
***
I pulled the room key out of the slot and waited for the light to turn green, then walked into Conner and Jason's room. The only light was the lamp on the desk in the corner of the room. As I dropped my things onto the bed closest to the bathroom, and looked over to where Conner was sitting up on the edge of the bed. He had his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.
"How you doing, Slugger?" I asked, trying to be funny. He winced as he looked up at me, and I saw a swollen red ring forming around his left eye, and blood trickling out of his nose that I hadn't noticed before. His hands looked like they'd been put through a meat grinder. "Oh my God, Conner! What the hell?" I reacted. He winced again.
"Could you maybe, not scream?" he asked, sarcastically.
"Yeah, sorry. Can we maybe clean those open wounds up though?" I asked, walking towards the bathroom to try and find a first aid kit. I grabbed a washcloth and filled one of the clear plastic cups up with water. I glanced under the sink and found a small box with bandaids and alcohol pads. I grabbed that too.
I walked back out to the bedroom and flipped the switch on the lamp between the beds. Conner held up his right hand to block the light. "Do you have to bring the light brigade with you?" He said.
"I have to be able to see to get you cleaned up," I responded to his snarkiness.
"I've had worse that I didn't clean up. They'll be fine."
"Shut up and let me do this, Price."
"Yes ma'am, Smithey," he said. It was the first semi-normal thing he'd said since his brawl at the bar. I kneeled down in front of him and started with the drying blood under his nose. He winced when the cloth touched his nose.
"Is it broken?" I asked, completely naive to what a broken nose looked like.
"No, just sore," he replied to my innocent question. I continued scrubbing until the blood was gone from his upper lip, then noticed a small cut above his right eye. I dipped the cloth into the water cup and dabbed the cut, and Conner sucked in a sharp breath, "Careful."
"Don't be such a baby," I said to him. I didn't mean it. But he deserved some tough love after ruining everyone's night. He stuck his tongue out at me and I giggled. "I think this one needs a bandaid. It's deeper than it looks," I said upon closer examination of the cut. I reached into the small kit I got from the bathroom and took out a small butterfly bandage. Once I finished that task, I moved on to his knuckles.
His hands were so banged up. Along with the scrapes and bruises from tonight, there were white scars from past injuries. "How many fights have you been in?" the thought slipped out of my mouth, even though I meant it to be a silent query. I looked up to see if I'd struck a nerve, but his expression seemed blank.
"Too many to count," he replied. He grinned ruefully. I rubbed his knuckles with the cold water, but other than that, there wasn't much I could do.
"Do you want some ice for your eye?" I asked, pointing at his swollen left eye that was now turning purple.
"Jase got me some before he left, but I haven't gotten it," Conner jerked his chin towards the ice bucket sitting on the dresser in front of the TV. I walked over and took the top off of it. Opening the cloth in my hand, I palmed some ice into it, and wrapped it up, and carried it over to where Conner still sat.
Moving to sit beside him, I asked, "Why do you fight?"
He looked at my knees as he spoke. "I don't know. It used to be the only thing that made me feel alive. Now, It's just a bad habit that I can't seem to break."
"So what was tonight about?" I asked before I remembered what Ashley had said.
"Somebody grabbed Ashley. She's probably pissed at me. She's super independent."
"There's nothing wrong with that," I snapped, my feminist side feeling somewhat attacked.
"I know, I know. I'm not saying it's a bad thing. It's just...I saw him put his hands on her and saw red. I--nevermind," he said, cutting himself off abruptly.
"What?" I asked. He was always doing that. Starting a sentence and not finishing it. Like he was afraid he would give away some big secret.
"I said nevermind. Can we just drop it Griff?" He said gruffly. Then he looked up from my knees and smiled weakly at me, adding, "Please?"
I held my hands up defensively, and said "Fine."
I got up and walked over to where I had lain my clothes, grabbing them and my toothbrush. Then I went into the bathroom to brush the sugary alcohol from my mouth, and change clothes. I thought about whether I should take my bra off, and opted for maximum comfort, considering Conner would probably be asleep soon. I had just slipped the second strap off my shoulder, and was pulling my t-shirt down over my head when I heard a small knock at the locked door.
YOU ARE READING
The Price of Falling
عاطفيةConner Price and Griffin Smithey have grown up in the same town. They went to the same school. But they had completely different personalities. He was the quintessential bad boy, and she was...well, she was a planner. She needed rules and order. And...
