I want to be held. My fears of someday waking up pinned beneath that wank stain assaults my mind, and he’s been trying to escalate things with me. It’s only a matter of time before he tries taking what he thinks he’s owed for “putting up with us”.
“Why aren’t you asleep?” The blank of emotion in his voice is startling. Never has he spoken to me in anything but tones of hyper excitement and joy, like I’m the light in his life.
Lately he’s been getting short tempered with me. Throwing me harsh looks when I say something he’s unhappy with or telling me to be quiet in front of others.
“I… um…” I stutter stupidly. I don’t know what to say really. I don’t want to lie but I don’t want to tell him either. I needed to see him, needed to feel that safety that comes when he’s around me. I needed to know if he was okay too. And by the look on his face, he’s not.
He finally turns to look at me, noticing the dark circles under my eyes from lack of sleep to the way my fingers shakily pick at my nails in front of me, blood starting to coat the pads of my fingers.
I watch him for a moment as he rubs his hand over the growing stubble on his fifteen-year-old face, before letting out an exasperated sigh, like I’m impossibly tedious. He scoots lower down into his bed, adjusting the pillows and getting comfortable.
I get ready for him to tell me to go back to the girls’ sleeping rooms, and we’ll talk later, but surprisingly today he lifts the covers surrounding him and indicates for me to hope into the bed with him.
Clarke is my safe space, my most precious friend. I take no time hastily getting underneath the covers, relishing in his warmth, the comfort of him. He positions me so that my head is pillowed on his bicep, and he turns to face me. I move to link my arm across his chest and a sharp inhale escapes Clarke.
For a moment, I have no idea what has happened. I stare at him dumbly for a moment before I grab at his shirt, lifting it and exposing the black and blue markings coating his chest and stomach
“What happened to you?” I choke out, a tremble in my voice that I can’t shake.
He hums softly under his breath before stroking my hair. “Nothing, Rosie. It’s nothing. Just drop it. Let’s get some sleep. It will all be better in the morning.”
His tone is sweet, but I can hear the resolution behind his words. Biting my lower lip to hold back any further questions, I drop it, knowing full well that when Clarke has decided something that it is non-negotiable.
The beds are nothing better than a camp cot, barely wide enough to fit a full-grown man on it. Even though Clarke is only mid-teens, he already stands a foot taller than I do. It’s a tight fit as I squeeze in beside him, but the warmth of his body as he holds me against him provides the comfort I desperately need right now.
“You know you’ll have to stop sleeping in my bed whenever you get scared, right?” His voice is low pitched and smooth, like he’s totally nonchalant about my presence beside him.
I admit the thought cuts deeper than it should. Clarke took me into his shadow the day I arrived at Darling Valley, showing me the ropes. He’d let me crawl in beside him whenever I needed to right from the beginning. The thought of losing that scares me.
“You’re 13 now, my Rose. People will get the wrong idea about why you’re here. I don’t care much for rumors, but I know you have high aspirations. I’m only looking out for you. You need to be stronger.”
I know he speaks the truth, but the blunt delivery is like a knife in my tender heart. I hum in agreement at him before rubbing at my tired eyes.
“I know, but I just… needed you tonight.”
He doesn’t question me, and I don’t elaborate. He continues to stroke my hair, lulling me into a dreamless sleep. But before my mind slips away, Clarke pulls me in tighter against him, his breathing becoming a bit heavier as he exhales deeply. I hear him.
“I need you too.”
If only that were true.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Stepping out on to the sidewalk, I find Rylan grinning at me as he leans against a blacked-out sedan. He’s sporting a line of stitches beneath his skin that has me smirking a little and if the black eyes are anything to tell by Nova might have gotten ahold of him since I’ve been gone. There’s no way Rylan wouldn’t have squealed, and there’s no way Nova would have let any indiscretion like that go.
I halt my approach and tilt my head back to take in the night sky. The light pollution offers me none of the same comforts I found last night, even if I didn’t have a moment to enjoy it. No stars. Scarcely a moon. The hue cast by the town making the night seem lighter, like it’s desperate to not let go of the day.
I don’t share the sentiment. There is nothing more I want right now than to bleach this day from existence. But I can’t, I’ll hold on to the fissures inside me that never heal quite right, and the reminder will be painted on my skin for days to come.
Inhaling the familiar smell, I feel no sense of longing to stay here, no warm flare of home, merely the echo of hopelessness and visions of a small child searching for something that was never there. I’m in too deep to ever break away, and if I tried, I don’t know if I would survive what that could cost me.
My footsteps feel leaden as I step up to the car, opening the door and shutting myself inside, barely watching the valley pass by as we make our way back to Fairwater Academy. The builds and fluorescent glow becoming scarcer as we travel and with every passing minute that I’m taken closer, I feel the tightness in my muscles loosen and the shallowness of my breath release. I draw my first deep breath in a week. How is it that the one place that has an expiry date on it is the only place that I can find solace.
At some point I must have fallen asleep because my next moment is being roughly shaken awake as Rylan tells me to get the fuck out. I yawn out a thank you, a dick he may be but I’m tired and just happy to be back. I start for the dorms and make it to the third floor before remembering that it's Thanksgiving and Peyton was hosting a dinner with the boys in our room. As happy as I would be to see Peyton right now, I just can’t. I need to right myself first, I need a shower, stitches, probably a tetanus shot, and sleep desperately.
I change direction and head to the tower. It feels like just yesterday that I was in here recovering from a literal stoning and now I’m seeking sanctuary once again and that’s where this place has become. A little sanctuary in a den of wolves. Rich, overprivileged wolves. I drink so much water I think I’ll burst but still don’t feel hydrated and then jump into the shower. For the first ten minutes, I just sit there, letting the water soak away the memories, but I don’t think I’ll ever forget the way Carlie looked. Tears spring in my eyes and I cry. I cry for her, and pray that she’s safe, and I cry for me, for the fact that I may never be.
My skin in red and my scalp is raw when I emerge from the shower, but I’m clean, even if I don’t feel it. Fortunately, I’m well acquainted with the first-aid kit here and pull it out to take care of my injuries, disinfections and bandaging what I can reach. There’s nothing here to stitch myself up with, but there were a few butterfly stitches that I used. It’s not perfect, but it will do until I make it back to my room. I’m thankful more than ever that I left some clothes here last time and pull on an oversized hoodie that says, ‘next week has been exhausting’ and earth color leggings.