Page 32 of Withered

His eyebrows draw together. “Who the fuck is Olivia? And what the fuck are you talking about?” He asks, and he looks kind of cute with that face, but I just raise my eyebrows and fold my arms at his response.

“Oh, that blondie. Her name is Olive. You know what? Fuck her. I don’t give a damn shit about her. Her name is as bitchy as she is.” He goes on with his rambling. If I said he looked cute earlier, he looks a lot cuter now.

“Can you stop, please?” I start laughing and add, “I know she can be a little much.”

“Now, who did you fight with? This late?” I ask seriously, which almost comes off as a concern.

Even though I hate him sometimes, I cannot see people hurt. My parents are doctors, for Christ’s sake. It’s in my blood, I guess.

“That is none of your business,” he replies coldly. This is the side I hate. “Why do you even care? You must be happy I am hurt, right?”

I bawl my hands into small fists. This is the jerk I hate.

“Fine, do what you want to,” I reply angrily.

He hit a nerve. He should not have said that. It’s obvious I do not like him, but that doesn’t mean I want to see him with bruises or cuts. With that said, I shut my window with a loud thud and got back to bed.

Itrytosleep,but all I can hear are Jake’s grunts on this silent night. He’s probably icing his bruises. That idiot! I offered my help, but he turned me down.

I keep turning in my bed to look at the ceiling or my window, which is now covered by curtains. Jake is still up. I can see the light from his bedroom. Why does he have to be so stubborn?

I sigh softly, I know I am going to regret this, but I get up and open my window. Jake notices and turns to face me.

“Let me help you.” I try again, even though I’m afraid he’ll reject me again.

I can see the hesitation floating in his eyes before he takes a deep breath and surprises me by saying, “Okay.”

“Open your front door. I’ll be there.” I speak so fast that I wonder if he even caught it.

I grab my phone and run quickly before he could object. I take the first-aid kit we keep on shelves and walk out to his house.

I tiptoe my way inside, closing the door behind me. It’s dark here, and I can see his shadow coming downstairs. Once he is close, he motions for me to keep quiet, using his finger against his mouth.

Did he think I would scream? I roll my eyes at him and follow him up to his bedroom. He steps inside first, and I'm about to follow suit when it occurs to me that this is the first time I'm entering Jake’s room. This is my first time ever entering a boy’s room.

“Do you want to come inside or stand there all night?” Jake pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I whisper in a low voice, entering his room.

His room is almost the same as mine. I thought boys kept their rooms messy, but this one has other thoughts. His room is clean. There is a bed, a bookshelf, a desk, a punching bag, and a guitar. The guitar makes me frown.

“Surprised?” He asks.

He’s sitting on the edge of his bed, pressing an ice pack on one of his bruises. His chest was on full display, and his hair had that messy look.

God! What have I gotten myself into? Why in the hell does he look so good even at this time? Midnight?

“Very!” I tell him honestly.

I sit beside him, holding the first-aid kit between us. I swat his hand away, earning a raised eyebrow and a death stare.

I take out some ointment and apply it gently to his bruises. He draws a deep breath, and so do I. But I try to keep my calm and focus on his bruises, which are now a light purple color. It’s tough not to concentrate on his chest, which is all I want to do.

He has numerous tattoos. On the back of his right hand is a small bird, and on his middle finger is a small flame. His left arm has a ship above the elbow and a lovely tiger below it.

But it’s the ones on his chest that grab my attention. A tree comes out from beneath his stomach with no leaves, and a bird flies away from the tree. On the right side of his chest, next to an angel holding a bow and arrows, is the most intriguing and striking tattoo of them all: a broken clock with a 3D design.

I could feel him watching my every move. I try to avoid his stare, but the proximity wasn’t helping either.

---