Page 23 of Rot

“Oh, that’s wonderful. I’m so glad to see you two getting along. I’m going to make something quick for dinner. I assume you two didn’t eat?”

“No, we didn’t,” Elias said.

“All right. I’m going to change and shower, then I’ll get dinner going. I’ll make some extra for your mom, Sloane, for whenever she gets back from… well, for when she gets back.” Her footsteps faded down the hall as, I assumed, she went into her bedroom to grab fresh clothes. Within another minute, we heard the water running in the room next door.

Finally, after what was an eternity, Elias stepped away, though he didn’t take his eyes off me. He didn’t tell me to go, nor did he have to. I had the feeling, if we stayed where we were and continued how we’d been, things would only escalate.

Or, perhaps, he had a better sense of what was right and what was wrong, and he knew what had almost happened was wrong.

I said nothing, turning to leave. The image of him watching me go was burned into my memory, and once I reached the hall, I lifted a hand to my neck, massaging the area he’d squeezed.

Someone like me wasn’t destined for fairytales and a boring life. I wasn’t meant for the sweet or the sugary. No. I was at home in the darkness, with the rot in me, so it was only natural that I’d be drawn to it in someone else, regardless of who it was.

Later that night, when Aunt Maggie had finished dinner, we sat around the kitchen table and ate in silence. No one talked about my mother’s absence. The only thing she brought up was school, and I didn’t really want to talk about that. How boring. No, with Elias sitting across from me, the only thing on my mind was the possibility that Elias was much more like me than he wanted to admit.

I tried not to stare at him, though. I didn’t want his mother thinking something was wrong between us. The last thing I wanted was to be kicked out of here, because then where would I go? I’d have to leave Elias, and I wasn’t ready to say goodbye just yet.

I might never be ready, at this rate.

Halfway through dinner, the front door opened, and my mother strolled in, carrying a brown paper bag. She walked right through the kitchen, toward the basement door, without so much as sparing any of us a glance. The way she walked told me she had, in fact, been drinking.

Aunt Maggie got up, forced out a smile, and said, “Excuse me.” And then she went after her, both women disappearing into the basement. Loud voices rose through the air; Aunt Maggie trying to tell my mother that she shouldn’t be drinking, blah, blah, blah.

It wouldn’t work, my mother would never care. I just hoped Aunt Maggie cared enough about mending bridges to let us stay, even if my mother fucked up and drowned herself in booze.

I drew my eyes away from the basement door, landing it on Elias to find he was already staring at me. Was he replaying what happened earlier in his head, wishing things had gone differently? Was he hating himself for nearly kissing me?

Or was he wondering if I’d found the arrow he’d hidden beneath his bed, if I knew his secret?

One thing was for sure: his expression was back to hatred. We were back to square one, it seemed, but that was fine. I’d be patient. I’d wait as long as it took until he was comfortable enough to tell me the truth.

When I went to bed that night, again, I had a dream. It was a strange dream, and I hardly remembered it come morning. So quick and pointless it was.

I dreamed someone was watching me, and that someone was Elias.

Chapter Seven

A week went by. I sat with Jordan and his friends at lunch, caught up on schoolwork and homework, even took my first test—without being a study buddy with Jordan. He tried to get me to go out with him that weekend, but I told him I still had to unpack. A lie, but a necessary one. I wanted to see if Elias would go out again, if he’d find himself in the arms of Dana and try to drown in her again.

Imagine my delight when Friday night rolled around and he remained in his room, alone.

No running to Dana. It made me happier than it should’ve. Really, I shouldn’t care what Elias did or whose arms he found himself in. I shouldn’t get a prickle of envy when I thought about Dana and how there was no way in hell she deserved him.

I wasn’t saying I knew Elias and everything that made him tick, but I was getting closer. The arrow under his bed stuck in my mind, refusing to leave; a visceral image, almost, its omen one that merely excited me.

Regardless of the reason why he still had that arrow, it meant he wasn’t normal. He wasn’t some average, everyday guy—an average, everyday guy wouldn’t keep the bloodied arrow from his father’s death.

That’s what I assumed it was, anyway.

Of course, I’d already known Elias was different. I could sense it the moment we’d first met. The anger in him, the rage… I’d known there was more to him. I’d been drawn like a magnet to him.

The next Saturday rolled around, and I decided it was time to bait the beast. See if I could get Elias riled up again. His mother had gone in for a long shift that morning, so she wouldn’t be back. My own mother was currently locking herself away in the basement, refusing to face reality—regressing, pretty much, but she wasn’t my responsibility. I didn’t make her this way. My father did.

Elias wanted me to stay away from Jordan, so how would he feel if I went out on a date with him? If I let Jordan show me around town, as he so eagerly kept insisting these past two weeks?

Maybe Elias wouldn’t do anything. Maybe he wouldn’t care. Maybe whatever emotions I’d pulled out of him he’d been working on burying so they’d never see the light of day again.

Eh, I was pretty confident I could rile him up again. Someone like Elias made it all too easy for someone like me.

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