Rock Bottom (9 page)

Chapter Nineteen

“How was school?” Dad was sitting on the sofa when I walked through the front door. A rare sight.

“Good.”

“Didn’t you have a math test today?”

“Yes.”

“How did that go?”

Not so great
. “Fine.”

“Fine?” He looked up from the ever present pile of work that surrounded him. “Fine isn’t going to cut it around here anymore, Rylie. We have obviously been going too easy on you lately. Nothing short of perfection will be accepted under this roof, young lady.”

“I’m trying—”

“Try harder.” My father dismissed my presence as easily as dropping his eyes back to his work. End of discussion.

Frustration welled up right alongside that endless supply of discouragement that seemed to live inside of me, feeding off my disappointment and guilt as I made my way upstairs.

Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it. Don’t think about it.

I repeated the mantra to myself as I dumped my bag on my desk and dropped onto my bed. I wouldn’t think about what my father said, or how it made me feel. I wouldn’t think about all the things I wanted to say to him. I wouldn’t think because if I didn’t think, then I wouldn’t hurt. I just had to make it a few more hours and it would go away. I just wouldn’t think about it until then.

***

The mantra worked. I gave myself a headache repeating it so many times, but eventually eleven o’clock rolled around and I was still in one piece. I caught the flash of headlights as soon as I was out the front door and rushed down the sidewalk to meet him.

“Hey, Princess.”

“Hey, yourself.” I slid in beside Elijah and nabbed myself a kiss before the road could demand his attention.

“You ready?”

“Beyond ready. Let’s go.”

Elijah pulled out as I fiddled with the radio dial. Nothing came in clearly through the ancient speakers, but I did manage to find one station where we could almost figure out what song was playing. By the time we reached Rafe’s, I’d given up trying to make it any better.

“Hey, Ry, don’t forget you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to in there. And we can leave any time. Go back to my place, or whatever. Just say the word.”

“I do want to, Elijah. And why would I want to leave? I like your friends.” Most of them, anyway.

“Just reminding you.”

He got out before I could really figure out where all of this was coming from and I trailed after him across the street. Before letting ourselves in, Elijah clasped my hand in his. I knew it was some male territorial thing, but I was more than okay with that.

“Rylie!” I was greeted by my own personal cheering section in the form of Meg. She shouted my name from across the room, but appeared to lack the energy to lift her head from where it was nestled on Liam’s shoulder.

“Hey, Meg. Hi, Julie.” I waved to the girl sprawled in the armchair and got a huff in return.

Springs groaned under our combined weight as Elijah and I settled on the tattered loveseat. Rafe’s furniture in general had seen better days. The coffee table, for example, with its numerous scuffs and scrapes and the occasional burn mark or two wasn’t something you’d find in a magazine—or goodwill, for that matter—but I liked it. It had a sort of . . . homey charm. It practically begged you to kick up your feet and get comfortable. Nothing at all like the dazzling white fabrics and polished wood surfaces of my parent’s house. There, dirt was the enemy and you had to be constantly on guard. Here, dirt felt as welcome as the rest of us and you could sit back and relax. Not worry.

“Where’s Declan?” Elijah twisted to scan the hallway.

“Not coming.” Liam shrugged and his arm ‘casually’ slipped over Meg’s shoulders. “Said he had shit to take care of tonight.”

“Hmm.” Warmth trailed Elijah’s lips across my cheek to my ear. “I’ll be right back. I’m just gonna check in with Dec.”

Leaning into me as he dug his cell from his pocket, he paused long enough to nibble my earlobe, leaving me all sorts of off-balance in his absence.

“Rylie.” Rafe dropped onto the seat beside me as soon as Elijah excused himself, stretching his arm over the back of the cushions. The creep factor I associate with him had lessened over time, but I still wasn’t thrilled with the idea of him touching me. “I hear you’re smoking with us tonight.”

“Sure.” I tried to sound pleasant, but it came out strained anyway.

“Let me get you a hit then.” Snatching up the same purple swirled bowl they used the first time I’d come to one of these things, he lit a match and let it burn down to his fingers before blowing it out. “This ain’t a joint, sweetie. You gotta smoke it while it’s lit.”

“Oh.”
Wow, brilliant
. “Sorry.”

“Try again. Put it to your lips, cover that hole right there, and when I light it, inhale.”             

I followed his directions and got hit with a much more potent lungful than I was used to. Fighting back the coughing fit desperate to break free, I held onto it as long as I could.

“Strong, huh? This is some new stuff I just got in. It’s good.”

I choked out a cough or two and nodded.

“Not bad. Eli’s been teaching you well.”

“So why don’t I keep it up.” Squeezing in between Rafe and me, Elijah took the bowl from my hands and helped himself to a hit before passing it on.

I felt myself relax in a way that I only could when Elijah was with me. “Everything alright with Declan?”

“Yeah.” His arm snaked around my back and I snuggled closer to his side. “Everything’s fine.”

The bowl went around the room a couple times, but it didn’t take long before the effect hit me. Harder than I was used to. I sank back into the soft cushions and contemplated the ceiling . . . roof?
What’s the difference between a ceiling and a roof?

“One’s inside and one’s outside.” Elijah sank back beside me.

“Huh?”

“A ceiling and a roof. A ceiling is inside, while a roof is outside.”

“Huh. I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

“You do that a lot, actually.”

“What?”

“Say stuff out loud that you don’t mean to.”

“Oh. That’s embarrassing.” Not that I really cared at the moment.

“Nah, it’s cute. I like those glimpses into that brain of yours.”

“There’s some stimulating stuff going on in here.” I tapped my forehead. At least I meant to. Instead, I almost poked myself in the eye.

“Clearly.” Elijah chuckled and I couldn’t help laughing, too.

“Where is everybody?”

“Sleeping.”

“What time is it?”

“Around two, I think.”

“Two? How long have I been staring at the . . .
ceiling
?”

“A while now.” Rafe’s deep laughter caused my head to drop faster than it should have given the dizzying swirls dancing before my eyes. “She’s cute when she’s like this.”

“I know.” Elijah tensed beside me, but I couldn’t understand why.

“I like it.” Rafe’s head appeared beside me, I swear out of nowhere. He was like the freaking Cheshire cat. “You should do it more often.”

“Do what?”

“Let loose. Enjoy life.” Rafe’s eyebrows danced in a way that I found more comical than it probably was.

“She lets loose enough. Come on, Ry. I think it’s time to go.”

“What does that mean?” I let Elijah pull me to my feet, but couldn’t quite support my own weight. “You think I let loose too much?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“But that’s what you think? You think I smoke too much.”

“That’s rather hypocritical coming from the guy who’s over here buying weed almost every other week from me.”

Elijah snarled at Rafe’s interruption. “I didn’t say that and I didn’t mean that. You’re being paranoid. Let’s go.”

“It doesn’t sound like she’s being paranoid to me, Eli.”

“Shut the fuck up, Rafe. Come on, Ry.”

He manhandled me out the door and into the car and I was utterly powerless to stop him, literally hanging all over him—but his words still nagged at my brain like a relentless itch.

“What did you mean, Eli?”

He stopped and stared hard at me.

“What?”

“You called me Eli. You never call me that.”

“So what? Answer the question, Elijah. Do you think I party too much? Because Rafe’s right, that would be hyp-hypo . . .”

“Hypocritical?”

“Yes, that! Because I do all my partying with you.”

“And that would be why I do not think that. Okay? You happy now?”

“Not really.”

He smiled softly and any lingering irritation floated right out the open window. “You will be once you get some sleep.”

Getting into the house became its own brand of obstacle. I couldn’t walk straight to save my life, so Elijah had to help me in and upstairs. Right past my parents’ room, which became another problem when I couldn’t stop giggling.

“You’re killing me here.” Elijah pushed us into my room and kicked the door shut with his hand planted firmly over my mouth. “There, you’re in. Now get some sleep.”

“Okay.” I didn’t have to be told twice. I crawled right onto the mattress and face planted in my pillow.

“Don’t you at least want to change first or something?”

“No.” I groaned into the pillow and heard his exasperated sigh.

“Alright. Well, I’ll see you in the morn—”

“Wait.” I rolled over to see his dark silhouette against the streetlight coming through my window. “Don’t go. Stay?”

“You want me to stay? Here? Ry, your parents are one door down. I don’t think—”

“Please? I just . . . It’s always when I’m lying in my bed in the dark that I feel the most alone. I don’t want to feel alone tonight, Elijah. Please stay?”

“Princess . . .”

I could feel him ready to turn me down. I couldn’t take the rejection. Not tonight. “Just for a little while?”

When he sighed again, I knew I had him. “Just for a little while.”

“Okay.” I agreed far too excitedly and scooted over on the bed.

Elijah stretched out behind me, bending to fit the curve of my body. With the heat of him radiating against my back and his arm wrapped firmly around my waist, I drifted off quickly.

Chapter Twenty

Morning came far too early with the alarm blaring, birds singing, sun shining, and . . . Elijah in my bed?
Holy crap!

“Wake up.” I shook him with no response. “Elijah, wake up. Wake. Up.”

Jesus, it was like trying to wake the damn dead. Finally, he groaned and rolled over to bury his face in my pillow.
Seriously?

“Elijah, my parents are going to be in here any minute.”

That did the trick. He shot up in the bed like a freaking Jack-in-the-Box, startling a slight scream out of me.

“Shit. I fell asleep. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s fine. It doesn’t matter. All that matters is getting you the hell out of here before my father shoots and stuffs you.”

Elijah tilted his head at my particularly strange metaphor and I groaned in frustration. “Just move, would you?”

I practically shoved him out of the bed and that’s when I realized he wasn’t wearing any pants. Good Lord, I’d spent the night in bed with a boy with no pants on. A situation to overanalyze at a later time. He stumbled around the room, pulling on his jeans, and made his way to the window.

“We’re on the second floor.”

Elijah pulled back the curtains to examine his chosen escape route. “I think I can make it.”

“Are you insane? Hide in the closet or something until they go to work.”

“I’ll be late for school.”

“Really?”
That
was his biggest concern? “You’re willing to risk life and limb to get to school on time.”

“Yeah, on second thought,” he took another peek out the window, “not so much.”

The quiet
snap
of the closet door shutting behind him coincided with the
whoosh
of my bedroom door over the carpet as Mom poked her head in the room.

“Almost ready?”

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a few.”

We were almost home-free when she stopped and turned around. Her eyes narrowed on my rumpled outfit. “Didn’t you wear that yesterday?”

“Yeah.” I laughed nervously. “Fell asleep studying. I’m not dressed, yet.”

“Well, you better hurry or you’re going to be late.”

After she was gone, I rooted through my dresser for something else to wear and heard a long, drawn out “Cluuuuuueleeeeesssss,” come from inside my closet.

I burst out laughing and had to slap a hand over my mouth to avoid drawing my mother back in.

After what was probably the fastest shower known to mankind, I threw on some random ass outfit and flew out the front door. Mom was still sitting at the kitchen table with her tablet and coffee when I left, but Dad’s car was gone. She wouldn’t be far behind us and then Elijah would be free to go. I felt a little guilty leaving him up there in my cramped closet all alone, but what choice did I really have?

***

“What happened to you?” I hadn’t even made it to my locker yet when Angie pounced, Carrie hot on her heels.

“What?”

Her eyes darted down to my outfit, which, yes, consisted of sweats I usually reserved for gym class and Saturday mornings at home and an oversized tee, but it wasn’t like wearing sweats to school was against the dress code or anything.

“I was in a rush.”

“Rylie.” Angie pulled me aside like this was some kind of private crisis intervention. “Don’t you care that people are going to see you like this?”

I got the distinct impression that she was more concerned with the fact that people were going to see me
with her
like that.

“Image is everything. How people see you is how they treat you. Do you really want everyone to start treating you like some kind of . . .” her gaze traveled my outfit again with a look of disgust, “hobo?”

“I don’t really give a crap what you or anyone else thinks about my damn outfit, Ang.” If this was going to be such an issue for her, I didn’t need her anyway. I was happy in my moment until she came along and ruined it.

“That’s the problem. You don’t care about anything anymore.” Carrie was the last person I expected to hop onboard the judgmental bitch train. “You haven’t been to the gym in weeks, you don’t hand in homework, you don’t participate in class, and . . .” she dropped her voice, “people are starting to talk, Ry. Your eyes are always red and you’re always hanging around with those stoner losers.”

“They’re not losers, Carrie. They’re my friends.”

“
We’re
your friends!” Angie insisted.

“Not if you’re going to be such raging bitches about it.” Why had I never seen what stuck-up, conceited jerks they were before now?

“We’re not trying to be—”

“No, Car. She’s right. We’re bitches.
She
completely ditches us for a whole new set of ‘friends’.” Angela actually used air quotes as though the people I hung out with couldn’t possibly be considered my friends. “And
we’re
the bitches. Let’s go. I hope your new
friends
visit you when you end up in juvie. Or, hey, maybe you can share a cell.”

Angela spun on her three inch heel and tossed her perfectly cropped golden locks over her shoulder. Carrie hesitated, but in the end she followed with sad, dark eyes that came dangerously close to making me feel bad about what I’d said. Angie was a bitch. I never realized how very much like my father she was, determined to get what she wanted and uncaring of who she had to step on to get there.
Bitch
.

Carrie? Not so much. But she’d still chosen Angie. She was supposed to be my best friend, and instead she’d gone behind my back to judge me and my decisions. God forbid I did some things for myself for a change. Why was everyone so damn against my happiness?

“Hey, Princess.” Well, not
everyone
. A warm, wet kiss landed on my cheek and all thoughts of vindictive ex-friends melted away.

“Hey. You escaped.”

“I did. By the skin of my teeth. It was very James Bond-esque.”

“Really?”
What the hell happened after I left? Oh, God, did he really jump out the window?
I immediately scanned him for any signs of bodily harm.

“No. Your mom left for work and I walked right out the front door.”

He burst out laughing at my relieved breath and I smacked his arm. Hard. “You jerk! You freaked me out.”

“Aww, were you worried about me?”

“I’ll never make that mistake again.”

He was still shaking with laughter when he pulled me close to drop another quick kiss on my hair.  “Looks like I made it on time, after all.”

***

Lunch time brought about a dilemma I hadn’t considered. While I’d been spending almost all of my free time with Elijah, I still ate lunch with Carrie and Angela every day. Sitting with him at lunch had always seemed too official . . . too
public
. I guess it was part of that image thing Angela was harping about and I hadn’t seen how totally conceited that was until she practically threw it in my face.

Wow, I was a bitch, too
. But not anymore.

Striding across the cafeteria, head held high, I aimed for to the table in the back corner where Elijah, Liam, Meg, Julie, and Declan always sat together. I could feel the weight of the stares of the entire school following me, but I didn’t care.
Screw them
. I wanted to sit with my boyfriend.

Boyfriend?
Where had that term come from? I didn’t know . . . but it made me happy.

“Hey, guys.”

“What’s
she
doing here?” Evidently, they weren’t all my friends. Julie had been an ice queen to me since the day I met her, so I went out of my way to avoid her. She did the same, so we rarely had cause to see each other. She was at a couple of parties I went to, but we always stuck to different sides of the room and different conversations. I didn’t know what her problem was and I didn’t care. I wanted to sit with my
boyfriend
and that’s what I was going to do.

“Can I sit here?” I directed my question to Elijah, ignoring the stunned look on Liam’s face, the glee on Meg’s, and the scowl on Julie and Declan’s.

“Sure. Of course.” Elijah looked a little surprised himself, but he smiled as he scooted over to make room for me. I climbed in and unpacked my homemade lunch.

Not wanting to rock the boat too much, I sat back, munching on my tuna sandwich, and listened as the others fell back into conversation.

After a while, Elijah leaned into me. “What happened to Angela and Carrie?”

“Nothing. We . . .” I didn’t really want to tell him, but there was no use denying it. It would be all over the school soon anyway. “We had a fight.”

“What about?”

I didn’t answer, instead choosing to stuff a large bite into my mouth.

“About me?”

He waited while I chewed and swallowed. When I went to take another, he gripped my wrist and pulled the sandwich away from my mouth.

“Princess, was the fight about me?”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“That’s a yes,” he grumbled, releasing my arm. Suddenly my appetite was gone. “And it
does
matter. How many times do I have to tell you? It matters to me. You’ve gone above and beyond your comfort zone to make sure I got to keep spending time with my friends. I don’t want to be the reason you lose yours. Maybe I can—”

“You’re not the reason.”

“You just said—”

“Okay, yes, the fight was about you, but that’s not the reason we’re not friends anymore. The fight just made me realize what complete and total bitches they are . . .
I was
.”

“You can say that again,” Declan remarked from across the table and I realized I had the complete attention of the entire group.

Elijah glared at him and opened his mouth to say God knows what, but I intervened. “No. He’s right. I was as big a bitch as they are, so focused on where I was going I didn’t see where I was, or the people around me. But I don’t want to be that way anymore. And I don’t want to hang out with people who act that way.”

“Well, welcome to the anti-bitch club,” Meg laughed throwing an arm around my shoulders. “We made an exception for Julie.”

Julie snarled at her from across the table, which made me laugh out loud. Meg, Elijah, and Liam quickly joined me and eventually even Declan broke a grin. Julie continued to glare daggers at me, but I doubted I’d ever win her over.