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Noah
The sound of the doorbell wakes me.
I push my covers off and rise from the bed. Then, I throw my hair up in a mess of tangles before venturing out of my bedroom to see who is at the door.
I check through the peephole before answering, and then I blush.
I hate to jump to conclusions, but when I see the man standing outside, holding flowers, my immediate thought is that Brazen has done something sweet. I throw open the door, thankful that he would do something like this.
“I have a flower delivery. Just sign here,” the guy on my porch announces while pushing a clipboard at me.
I happily sign on the dotted line and then take the bundle of beautiful roses. My fingers can’t open the card fast enough.
SUNDAY,
YOU WILL ALWAYS BE MINE, NO MATTER WHAT.
LOVE, MATT
“You bitch! I want to wake up to a hot guy sending me flowers.” There is laughter in Madison’s voice as she steps around the corner, rubbing her eyes.
“Me, too, but these aren’t for me.” I hold the card out to Madison as I set the flowers on the coffee table. What I really want to do is throw them into the garbage.
She opens it and explodes. “Fuck him! He won’t let her fucking live. He won’t even let her fucking breathe. He’s slowly suffocating her.” She rips the card to pieces and throws it at the horrible red clusters of blooms.
“What’s going on?” Benson steps into the living room. Despite the early morning, his eyes are wide, and they flick between the two of us and the bouquet. “I’m guessing those aren’t from Brazen?”
Madison lip curls up in disgust when she utters Matt’s name while we all stare at the flowers as if they are going to attack at any moment. The left side of Benson’s face twitches as the energy in the room turns ugly.
“I want breakfast,” Benson says simply, sounding less stressed than I feel, before he turns and walks into the kitchen.
“Matt is such a coward. He knew he couldn’t send the delivery to Brazen’s, so he sent them here. He constantly has to keep reminding Sunday that he’s never far from her. We can’t tell her about this.”
Madison storms off toward the kitchen behind Benson.
I grab the flowers and pieces of the ripped up card, and then I walk outside to throw them into the garbage can.
Why couldn’t they have just been from Brazen?
When I join my roommates in the kitchen, Benson is cooking, and Madison is at the table, stewing in her contempt for Matt.
“I’m sick and tired of that psycho!” Madison slams her fist on the table.
Benson jumps and then throws her a scathing look.
“Sorry, Benny, but he’s just so infuriating.”
Without a word, Benson turns back to the stove.
Madison kicks back her chair and abruptly stands. “I’m going to take a shower. I need to wash the anger from my skin.”
Benson sets down three plates of eggs and toast—one for me, one for him, and the last for Madison’s now empty seat. He looks down at his food and quietly digs in.
“You okay?” I ask him.
“I don’t like that word,” he tells me. “I know Matt is a bad guy, and he probably is a psycho, but Madison knows I don’t like that word. People think I’m weird, and they’ve called me names my whole life. I’m not crazy, and I’m not a psycho. I just don’t want to be caught off guard.”
“Madison didn’t mean to upset you. You know neither of us would ever call you names. Matt just has everyone all shaken up.”
