Page 22 of Worthy

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“Well, here we are.” Elise parks the car in front of a red, white, and blue-painted house. I peer out the passenger window, staring at it in disbelief.

Wow, God bless fucking America.

I wish I could roll my eyes, but they’re too swollen. Everything hurts. I’ve never been so close to death before—and let me tell you, I amnota fan. Though right about now, I’m not much of a fan of living, either.

“Do you need help?” I swallow at her kind words. She’s been nothing short of amazing and generous since the moment I hobbled into the emergency room and she took me under her wing.

As fate would have it—not that I believe in such mercurial things like fate—but when it comes to Elise…she has to be a heaven-sent angel or some shit because there’s no way any human walking the earth is thisgood.

She stayed by my side through all the tests and examinations. It was a long, tedious process, one that shook me to my core. But she never left. She made a lot of phone calls, spoke to a lot of people—including my social worker—forcing her will on them until she was granted emergency placement.

It’s been a couple of days, and I still can’t grasp thewhy’sof it all, but to say I’m grateful is an understatement. I’ve never had anyone…care about me before.

“No, I’m good,” I respond, minutes later, but she doesn’t press, just waits patiently.

A fuckin’ saint, I’m telling you.

“All right, well, come on. I’ll grab your bag.” She reaches into the backseat and pulls out the only thing I own—a small, ratty backpack filled with a change of clothes, a tattered book, and a single polaroid photo, yellowed and faded with age.

My muscles tense to take it from her, to ensure she can’t keep my things from me, but consciously, I know she won’t. It’s still a bitch to fight against the very instinct that’s kept you alive.

The walk to the front door drags endlessly, my body screaming, protesting against every step I take.

The door creaks open, and someone steps out, but all I see is their black and purple sneakers through my downcast gaze. Keeping my head up takes too much effort when I‘m focusing everything I have on staying upright.

“Hey, Ma, how’s everything?” a voice sounds out through the ascending night. My feet stop on top of a crack in the gray sidewalk with a loudthwomp.

The vast array of warm colors slowly descend on the horizon, basking the world in all shades of gray.

“Oh, well, we’re getting there. It’s been a long few days, so I’m sure Abel is ready to sleep in a real bed.” She laughs lightly, clasping my shoulder with the gentlest touch. I tense away from it at first before leaning in, letting myself enjoy her warmth.

“Abel?” The voice repeats my name, sounding lower and tenser than before. My ears prick. I lift my gaze, eyes roving over long legs, a fit torso clothed in a tight, white tank top, broad shoulders, and a nice, elongated neck.

A dimpled chin, a pouty mouth, a button nose, and two golden-green eyes staring down at me with sharp focus.

I feel a smile pull at both corners of my lips, spreading wide, broad. Filling the lower half of my lopsided face completely.

“Peris Baxter,” I muse, feeling loads better already.

“Abel,” he says my name again, just as tense. Definitely irate.

“Oh!” Elise exclaims excitedly. “You two know each other?” Our eyes never part, potency multiplying by the second. His shapely jaw shifts under the pressure of his molars grinding together.

“We do,” I reply when Peris keeps his mouth shut. “We go to school together. In fact, we’ve actually become friends over the last couple of months.” I shoot Peris a wink, loving the flip in my stomach when his eyes narrow, nostrils flaring.

“That’s wonderful.” Elise wraps her arms around the both of us, forcing us in proximity. “Come on, let’s head inside.”

Elise makes small talk as she prepares some grilled cheese for us before we all head off to bed. While her back is turned, Peris shoots daggers at me. I smile back, the pain throughout my body feeling less acute than before. It’s all in my head, I know, but I’ll take the short reprieve.

“So, Abel,” Elise prompts a conversation. I focus my attention on her, reveling in the feel of Peris’s eyes stuck to the side of my bruised and swollen face.

“Yes?”

“When’s your birthday?” she asks, pulling open the fridge to grab the cheese. She shoots me a quick smile. I return it, feeling somewhat unsettled.

Not because of anything she did; I’m just not used to talking about myself.

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