best to ignore it. When I’m finished I make my dad a ham and cheese sandwich and set it on the table. If things have gone the way they normally do, he’ll be passed out on the couch.
Sure enough, he’s asleep, the bottle drooping in one hand, empty. I cover him with a blanket and go to my room.
I carefully take off my shirt. At the mirror over my dresser I turn, trying to see the damage on my back. It’s angry red. Red sauce is in my hair, on my back and jeans, but I don’t care. Now that I’m alone I let the tears fall. Exhausted, I fall face first onto my bed and am almost asleep when there’s a light tapping on my window, and it slides open.
Maddie crawls through and flips on the lamp next to my bed. I hear her gasp.
“Is he passed out?” she asks. No need to specify. We both know who she’s referring to.
I nod, sniffle, and turn so I can see her face.
She strokes my forehead where I’m sure there’s a bruise from its collision course with the cupboard. “Be right back.”
I don’t say anything. Just let the tears fall. When she comes back through my window she’s carrying her first aid kit. If I weren’t in so much pain I’d tease her about it.
“How long ago did this happen?” She sits on the bed next to me.
I shrug. Look at the clock. “Maybe a couple hours.”
She sighs. “In that case, I’m going to apply some aloe ointment.”
She unscrews the lid on a tube and squeezes clear stuff onto her fingers.
“It doesn’t look like it’s blistered. Just red. But this still might hurt. I’m sorry.” With fingers light as feathers, she spreads the cooling liquid over the burn. It does hurt, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.
“Thanks, Maddie,” I say when she’s finished.
She presses a water bottle against my shoulder. “You should take these.”
I gingerly sit. Take the water and two pills from her hand. After they go down I hand the water back.
“No, drink it all. You need it.”
I obey and chug every last drop.
“Good.” She smiles. I turn onto my stomach. She covers me to my waist with my sheet. “Will you be alright?”
I nod. “Sure.”
She touches the lump on my forehead. “Too bad your hair isn’t longer. You could cover this up.”
“I’m a guy. Bruises are part of growing up,” I say, repeating my dad’s words.
“See you tomorrow.”
“Night, Freckles.”
She grunts something indiscernible as she climbs out the window and closes it.
“Maddie,” I whisper, wiping the steam from the mirror over the sink. I gently bang my forehead against the glass, stare at my reflection. “Maybe she can’t stand the sight of you. You’re part of her past, a past that involves death.”
Or maybe she just doesn’t want a guy she knows is broken.
I want to ask her.
There’s an Alpha frat party tonight. I’m obligated to go. It’s black tie. I get dressed, hoping against hope I’ll see her there.
9
Maddie
He Likes the Kinky Stuff
“You look hot,” Gina squeals.
I hop off the chair and check my reflection. She’s lined my eyes in smoky grey liner. A darker shade of gray is on my lids, and she’s put on several coats of mascara. On my lips and cheeks, she put light pink lip-gloss and a touch of blush.
She’s also fixing my hair. Curling it with a thick curling iron. The end result is soft, romantic.
I wonder if Kyle will like it, I think, and then mentally kick myself.
“Wow, Gina.”
“Yeah, I know. The guys are going trip over themselves to get your digits.” She pushes me back in the chair. “Especially one boy in particular.” She sniffles. Still has a cold or allergies, it seems. “I got the scoop for you, by the way.”
I turn to face her. “The scoop?”
“Yeah, the scoop about Hottie TA.” She spritzes some of my curls with hair spray.
I clear my throat. “And?” I don’t want to give anything away. He doesn’t seem to know me, so I’m going to pretend I don’t know anything about him. Like the fact that he used to sleep with a nightlight. Or that he would tickle my back so, so gently while we listened to music. His favorite band was The Cure, and he said he wanted to be a poet when he grew up.
Once he wrote me a poem. My aunt threw it away, but I have it memorized.