Thirty-Three
Thirty-Three
A loud bang resounds in my ears. I whimper and stick my head under the pillow.
“Can I help you?”
“I’m looking for your daughter?”
“And who might you be?”
Maybe I’m dreaming, but I could swear I recognize that voice.
“A friend.”
“I know all of my daughter’s friends, and you definitely aren’t one. Vanessa doesn’t hang out with guys like…you. Go bother someone else.”
What the…
“I’m not going anywhere.” Wait a minute. That voice belongs to…Thomas! I sit up abruptly and tear the mask off my face in a panic.
“Get that hand off my door right now, you degenerate!”
I leap out of bed and rush downstairs. I take the steps two at a time while the vision of Thomas begins to resolve in front of me. He has one hand resting on the open door and, with the other, he holds a cigarette and a helmet. His jaw is tight and his nostrils are flared. I find my mother in a similar condition, facing him. Two banked fires ready to explode. As soon as they spot me at the foot of the stairs, they both stare furiously at me.
“Thomas, w-what are you doing here?” I stammer in shock as I join my mother in the doorway.
“Vanessa, who the hell is this?” my mother shouts indignantly, making me jump.
“Well…he’s…a classmate of mine. And don’t yell in my ear.” I turn my attention from my mother to Thomas, giving him a what did you come here for? look. He glowers at me in return. So he’s pissed off. Great.
“And can you explain to me why your classmate is showing up on our doorstep at this time of the morning with zero manners?”
Oh my God, all this early-morning melodrama is giving me a headache. I massage my temples, trying to calm some of my irritation. “I don’t know, Mom. Don’t you have anything else to do? I don’t know, hanging out with Victor, for example?” I snap, glaring at her.
“Of course, but I’m not going to leave you alone with this…guy!” she spits out, giving Thomas a deeply offended look.
“Mom!” I shriek in shock. I gesture for Thomas to come in before turning back to my mother. “He and I are going upstairs now and you”—I stab a finger at her—“will stop acting crazy!”
“Vanessa! I will not be talked to like that in my own house,” she seethes. “For all I know, he could be a serial killer and you’re his next victim!” I shake my head and ignore her. I take Thomas by the sleeve of his jacket and walk him past her. Before entering the house, he pauses to toss his cigarette onto the wooden porch. When he passes my mother, insolent as ever, he blows the last lungful of smoke out just inches from her face. “I’m not sure, but I think I may have just stepped in some dog shit,” he taunts her.
My eyes widen at his words, even though I realize he is lying. I tug Thomas by the arm, scolding him and telling him wipe that smirk off his face because he looks like a smug asshole. Then I turn to my mother, horrified.
“Mom, he’s just joking. He didn’t step in anything.”
“Vanessa, we are going to deal with this when I get back. We are not done here.” Her nostrils quiver as she focuses all her attention on the giant tattooed man with the rebellious expression and the terrible manners. “As for you, little boy, this is the first and last time I ever let you set foot in my house.” My mother is angrier than I have ever seen her as she leaves, slamming the door behind her. I roll my eyes heartily before grabbing Thomas by the wrist and dragging him upstairs to my room. I close the door hastily before turning to glare at him.
“Did you really have to act like that?”
“No. In fact, I should have been much worse. I didn’t even have time to open my mouth before she decided that she was looking at human garbage,” he retorts irritably, putting his helmet down by the door. I run my hands over my face and take a deep breath.
“Yes, I know. I’m sorry. She’s…particular.”
“I don’t give a shit about your mother. I want to know why you left.”
I frown. “What?”
“I woke up and you weren’t there. I did, however, find this.” He pulls a small ball of paper from his jacket pocket and throws it roughly at me. My note. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”
The little voice in my head bursts into gales of laughter. Now you know what it feels like to wake up alone and find only a measly little note, eh, Collins?
I raise an eyebrow. “You came all the way out here for this?”
“Yes, Ness. Just for this.” He brings his hands to his hips, pushing back the sides of his jacket. I can’t help but admire him, statuesque in his looming pose. I sigh and pinch the bridge of my nose; I’m surrounded by lunatics, that’s all there is to it.
I throw the note into the wastepaper basket and turn to him. “I don’t see where the problem is. In fact, you should be thanking me. I saved you all that morning-after fuss you would have felt obligated to go through.”
His eyebrows furrow in confusion. “What fuss are you talking about?”
“The kind where you remind me that it was just sex. Don’t make it more than that because you and I are not together, blah, blah, blah… I mean, we’ve been through this before, remember?”
He rubs his face, taking a deep breath.
“I wouldn’t have pulled any of that on you.”
“Don’t talk nonsense. You totally would have. But that’s okay.” I shrug my shoulders easily. “I wasn’t expecting anything else.”
He looks at me, perplexed. “I swear, I do not understand you.”
“Frustrating, right?” I give him a poke and then walk away toward the bed. When I get there, I fish my little frog-shaped mask out of the blankets and put it on my forehead before lying down.
“What are you doing?”
“What I was doing before you showed up and my mother started freaking out: sleeping.”
“Do you sleep with that thing on your head?” he asks mockingly.
“It’s for my eyes. Don’t make fun,” I say. “And, just to be clear, ‘that thing’ has a name.”
“I don’t want to know.”
“His name is Froggy.”
“You’re not well.”
“And you are cordially invited to leave. Thanks.”
“It’s almost eight o’clock. Don’t you have any extra nerd activities?”
“Not today.” I roll over on my side, pull the comforter up to my chin and tug the mask down over my eyes. “Shut the door when you go.”
Thomas doesn’t answer me. I hear the hardwood floor squeaking under his feet, but instead of moving away he moves closer. The mattress dips down and I turn sharply, lifting my mask. I see him sitting there, intent on removing his jacket and shoes.
“What are you doing?”
“I’m staying here,” he says resolutely, not even looking at me.
I snort. “No you’re not.”
He turns to me and slips under the covers. “You left without giving me any warning. So now you owe me a proper wake-up call. Cover your eyes with this ridiculous toad and go to sleep.”
I scowl at him. “And in the meantime? What do you plan to do?”
“Momo, Sparky, and I will devise a plan to finish you off, like a serial killer in a true crime documentary,” he answers, giving the stuffed animals at the end of the bed an intimidating stare. I shake my head, equal parts resigned and amused. I pull Froggy over my eyes and lie down with my back to him.
He leans close to my ear and whispers, “Your mother has a few screws loose, Ness. But you with this little mask surpass her by far.” I burst out laughing and he does the same, resting his forehead in the juncture where my neck meets my shoulder. He kisses me behind the ear, wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me close to him. “Now sleep,” he murmurs into my hair. And I do. I fall asleep with a smile on my lips and crazed butterflies darting around in my stomach.