I shouldn’t have left my room. I feel like I just interrupted them, like I just interrupted their life. I don’t know why the sight of those nail polish bottles and coffee cups makes me think that, but it does. And it’s true, isn’t it? I’m an interloper, the variable that isn’t supposed to be here, the guest that’s overstayed his welcome.
But Kira already saw me, so I can’t retreat anyway.
“Hey, sleepyhead,” Kira says softly, settling my nerves somewhat. “You must’ve been really tired. Are you feeling better?”
“Hey,” I say, watching Lexie watch me. Last time she saw me, I was beating a man to death, or nearly there anyway, so I’m notsurprised that she seems… leery. “I’m feeling better. What time is it?”
“It’s almost one p.m.” Kira waves me over, but I lean against the back of a sturdy couch several feet away, rather than joining them on a stool. I don’t want to crowd Lexie. “Are you hungry? We already ate, but we can have Gemma come back up and cook something for you.”
“Gemma?”
“My chef, she lives downstairs.”
“Ah, of course. Your chef.” I roll my eyes at her, and she blushes a bit buttsk’s her tongue at my sarcasm.
“Don’t be jealous, Tommy,” she teases. “You can call her whenever you need to, and she’ll cook almost anything you can think of. Think of it like an extension of Uncle Young-gi’s buffets, but made-to-order!”
I huff, trying to laugh along with her, but a tepid smirk is the most amusement I can muster right now. My head is stuffed full of thoughts that are somehow both muffled and raw at the same time, two very opposite feelings that have no business mixing up inside me.
“Hey, Tommy,” Lexie says, eyeing me up and down.
“Lexie,” I greet back.
We stare at each other like two stray cats on the street, sizing each other up, trying to figure out if the other one is about to pounce.
Eventually, shehmmm’s. “Kira told me to give you another chance.”
“That’s nice of her.”
“Guys.” Kira face-palmed, but we ignored her.
“You could’ve killed Brian.”
“I know.” Since we’re being blunt, I decide to tell the full truth. I decide to be just Tommy, at least a little bit. “But Kirawould’ve been scared. She was already scared. I didn’t want to make her cry.”
“Don’t you care at all about how Brian is doing?”
“Not really.”
“That’s scary, Tommy.” Her tone is disappointed, and a little judgmental.
And I scowl at that, because that seems unfair. “Can you honestly say,honestly, that if he’d beat me that badly, he would’ve given a damn about how I was doing? If he’d gotten me alone in the boxing gym, or if I hadn’t jumped off the balcony in your room to get out of the hallway he cornered me in, and he’d beat the shit out of me, wouldhehave checked onme?”
“What are you talking about?” Kira asks, aghast. “You jumped off a balcony?! Brian cornered you in a hallway?!”
Whoops.
“A lot happened when you weren’t looking,” I mumble, embarrassed about my slip of the tongue. “I didn’t want to bother you with it.”
“What the hell happened?” Lexie demands, but the anger is gone, replaced by shock. I guess I’ll take that trade. “Is that how you got those bruises all over your back? Did Brian hurt you?”
I sigh but decide I might as well tell them the whole gruesome story. At this point, pointing out Brian’s egregious flaws will only help me in the long run. If Lexie and Kira stop relating to him and feeling bad for him, then they’ll get over my fight with him much faster. So I start at the beginning–the night in the library.
By the end of the description of Brian’s behavior with Janessa, and their argument, and the way he threw her, Kira and Lexie are both nearly in tears. I don’t even think Kira’s breathing.
“Oh my god… thank god you were there!” She gasps. “She could’ve been–she could’ve–that’shorrible!”
“He’s a monster!” Lexie covers her mouth.
