AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Shuttingmyself in my room,Istretch out in the dark with the ice on my face.Mybreathing sounds too loud asIreach back and finger the base of my skull, where the barrel of the gun sat.I’llnever in my life forget the soundDallasmade when it fired.
WhenIjerk awake, it’s midnight.Everyonehas work tomorrow, so they must be in bed.I’mclutching a half-empty bag of water that leaked into a wet patch on the mattress, and my face hurts so muchIwant to break down and sob.Ichange into clean underwear and a fresh t-shirt, then sneak down the dark hall to the bathroom to check on my injuries.Mycheek and jaw are swollen up like a balloon, andI’mgoing to have a wicked black eye, butScoutwon’t question it much.HeknowsIcan’t walk away from a fistfight, andI’velost just as many asI’vewon.
Onmy way to the kitchen to look for food,Istop outsideDallas’ door.Thegap underneath is dark, andIcan’t hear any noise.Myhand is shaking whenIreach out and touch the knob.Thenumbness in my brain is starting to break apart and let through flashes of the helplessness, of choking on blood, of the blind terror right asIvanpulled the trigger.I’mfreaking out.
WhenIturn the knob, the door doesn’t budge.Confused,Ipush it again, then rattle the handle softly.It’slocked for the first time since we moved here.Oneof the last unbroken pieces of me cracks.
Tryingnot to wake the other guys,Iknock quietly, then louder.Nothing.Iknow he’s awake in there, listening–Ican feel it.Ishake the door, then rest my head against it. “Please,Dal.Ineed you.”Iclose my eyes and wait, silently begging for the sound of him crawling out of bed.Itdoesn’t come. “Fuck.Please.Comeon.”Almostgetting shot didn’t make me feel like crying, but this does.
Silence.Iwait there for ages, just in case he changes his mind.Buthe doesn’t.
Idon’t even want food anymore, soIgo down the hall and sneak intoScoutandRoman’sroom.WhenIsqueezeScout’sshoulder, he twitches awake with a confused grunt and gropes my arm until he can identify me. “Beck?What’sup?”
“I’mgonna sleep in here.”Ican hearRomanstirring at my voice.
“What’swrong?”Scoutcroaks, rolling over. “IsDallasokay?”Idon’t want him to turn on the light and see my face yet, becauseI’mtoo tired to answer questions.
“He’sfine.I’mjust cold.”Thelie slips out easily.Apparently, even after today,Ihaven’t learned my lesson.
Scoutnever wants anyone between him andRoman, butIthinkRomecan smell grief, like an animal.Hepulls me into the middle of the bed and drapes an arm over me, letting me rest my forehead against his bulky chest.Scoutgrumbles as he huddles up behind me, but he goes back to sleep immediately, his breath warming my neck.
Istill can’t drift off.Theboys pressed up on either side of me aren’t enough, because the oneIneed, the one that every atom of my body associates with safety and comfort, isn’t here.
* * *
“Arewe talking rocky or clay soil?Howmany hours of direct sunlight a day?”
Thegarden store employee crosses her arms and snaps her gum as she waits for me to answer.AllIdid was ask for an outside plant.Thefuck amIsupposed to say?Thethick, black hair falling out of her bun looks exactly likeDallas’.Ihaven’t seen him since he ran inside yesterday afternoon, andIalready miss him so muchIwant to die.
Ihold out a fistful of quarters, like a kid buying candy. “Ihave two-fifty.”Myvoice sounds hoarse and exhausted.
“Oh.”Hergaze flicks over my black and blue face, with my left eye swollen shut, and she gives a pitying sigh. “Here.”Shedisappears behind the counter, then comes back with a half-wilted plant in a tiny pot. “Wewere going to throw this guy out, but you can have him for free.”
Theleaves rustle asItake the pot, because my hands still haven’t stopped shaking from yesterday.Ihave no idea what species this is, besides that it’s green and grows in dirt.It’sthe saddest looking plantI’veever seen, butIguess that’s fitting. “Thankyou.”
Iclear one of the cupholders in theCivicand slot the cracked plastic pot safely inside.Thewhole drive homeIkeep an eye on it, trying to drive around the potholes instead of through them.
WhenIpull up in the driveway, my heart climbs into my throat.Dallasis on the west side of the house, hacking at the rock-hard soil with his trowel.It’staken him a week to break up the flower beds enough that he could plant the marigold seeds he found on the discount rack atKingSoopers.He’ssprawled in the dirt with filthy clothes, sweat glistening on his skin.Everytime he digs up a rock, he throws it as hard as he can against the shitty brick wall of the house.
WhenIget out of the car he pauses, watching me from a distance and trying to catch his breath.Icradle the plant in both hands and venture toward him.Hestands up slowly and looks me over, with his dirt-caked palms held out between us.Hiseyes meet mine, and for the first time everIcan’t read them.
Whenthe silence gets to be completely miserable,Iswallow and clear my throat. “I’msorry,Dal.”
Hedoesn’t move or speak.Hisface stays blank, except for the sweep of his long eyelashes as he blinks away the strands of hair blowing into his eyes.Thishurts more than anythingIvandid to me yesterday, and it’s all my fault.
Istep forward, until our chests are almost touching and our faces are just a few inches apart.Hissad eyes widen a little, but he stays frozen with the tips of his filthy fingers brushing my t-shirt.
“I’mso fucking sorry,”Icroak. “Iput you in danger and broke your trust.Youcould have gotten hurt.”Andhe doesn’t even know thatIskipped the meetings yet.Mythroat tightens, and my chest burns.Thereare words for these feelings, butIdon’t know them. “Ihave no idea what to do now,Dal.Iwish none of this had happened.”
Hisdark eyebrows pull together, and his lips tighten. “SodoI.”
Hearinghis voice for the first time today floods me with endorphins and pain at the same time.Iawkwardly push the plant against his narrow chest. “Igot you a…she said it grows nice outside.”
Dallasdoesn’t take the pot.Bitinghis lip, he looks past me over the hazy noon fields like he’s searching for answers. “Idon’t want a plant,Beck,” he murmurs tightly.
Takinga step back,Irun a hand through my hair.Arestless, panicked energy is building in my chest, like grabbing fistfuls of sand and watching it slip between my fingers.Myvoice comes out loud and aggressive. “Whatdo you want?Ican’t fix everything in one day.AmInot allowed to talk to you until then?”
Hepicks up a rag and wipes his hands clean, ignoring my tantrum.Whenhe’s finally done, he glances up at me with regret and determination mixed in his eyes. “Iwant you to tellScoutwhat happened yesterday.”
