Hero

Coughing sobs heaved through her body as she lay on Adrienne’s shoulder, both women walking towards the airport exit. Both Adrienne and Tre tried their hardest to ignore the suspicious stares and dubious sideway glances the trio was receiving from passing strangers.

With Luis, the driver finally popping the limo trunk open, he and Tre finally managed to stuff Cynthia’s pounds among pounds of luggage inside. Adrienne opening the door gently took Cynthia off her shoulder and managed to push her, not too hard, inside the vehicle.

Tre’s arm was hanging loosely around the rim of the long, plush seat he was sitting on, his other hand nursed a bottle of Heineken. His eyes couldn’t stop staring at the sniffling Cynthia, with her head pushed into the seat furthest back, her beautiful face hidden.

Both had tried sympathizing with her, trying to get to the bottom of her tears. Surely she couldn’t be THAT happy to see Adrienne and the guys. I mean, she was leaving behind her fiancée for sakes!

Oh well, he thought. At least she had stopped crying. But the eerie silence inside the limo was driving him crazy. What happened to catching up? Or joking around? Or even drinking?

Adrienne was annoyed a bit as well. To get over the neon pink elephant in the room, she preoccupied herself with a Cosmopolitan[i/] magazine, flipping uselessly through the glossy pages.

“Soooo,” Tre finally announced, making Adrienne pop her head from the pages of her magazine. “You girls have any plans for tonight?”

Adrienne twisted her mouth in an unattractive but secret code type of way, and threw her head back towards Cynthia. Tre immediately understood.

“Uh, you have anything in particular you want to do Cynth?” he restated, directing his question towards his troubled trouble.

An incoherent and most definite grump of a reply was all that was heard from the far end of the limo. Adrienne couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Why couldn’t her best friend just spit it out? It wasn’t like Cynthia to behave this way.

Tre was just about to knock his beer bottle against his head when Cynthia finally spoke.
“I said, can we please stop somewhere. I really have to use a bathroom,” she pleaded. And it was sad when she faced her friends, with faint black mascara stains burned down her cheeks, and her hair damp and clumping together.

While Tre talked to the driver about her request, Adrienne unsteadily crouched over to her best friend.
“What happened Cynthia?” she asked, rubbing Cynthia’s back.
“I’ll tell you later, I promise. Where’s the beer?”

Adrienne grinned, before swinging her arm to a compartment next to her and pulling out an ice cold bottle.

“Now that’s what I’m talkin’ about,” Tre spoke up. And almost immediately the vehicle came to a slow stop.

When Cynthia reentered the limo, Tre was now sitting a bit closer, a seat to her left.

“I feel much better now,” she sighed, pushing back a newly brushed lock of night black hair.
“Look better too,” he teased, which earned him a smile and a small punch to the chest.

Did Luis by the way know where the hell he was going? It shouldn’t take this long to reach the Armstrong house.

“Why’d you bring so much shit for just three weeks?” Tre asked, not knowing that his seemingly normal conversation ignited a burning sensation in the pit of Cynthia’s belly.

Her sniffles made an abrupt return, and her friends could see the tears quickly brewing in her eyes.
“Because, I,-I’m staying a little longer than three weeks,” she nearly whimpered.

“Cynth?” Adrienne murmured, already knowing what that meant.
“I-I’m leaving hi-him,” she stuttered.

And she didn’t cry. She sucked back all those tears, raw feelings, and sobs right back down to where they came from. She needed to strengthen herself.

Adrienne bit her lip, not really knowing what to say, while Tre accidentally dropped his beer to the floor, eyes wide in confusion as the limo came to a slow stop into the Armstrong abode.

“Wow, I keep forgetting how nice your house is Adie,” Cynthia mumbled as she stepped outside into the fresh air.
“Thanks,” Adrienne replied.

The two women walked inside, leaving Luis and a struggling Tre to bring her luggage inside.
“What took you guys so long to get here?” Billie Joe asked as he popped into the living quarters from the kitchen.
“I think Luis took the wrong exit or something,” Adrienne answered, tossing her purse to the nearby couch.

Billie Joe, always the gentleman wore a ratty navy blue shirt with some 80s band name on it, with a pair of too tight and not to mention dirty pants. His hair, as far as she could ever remember, resembled a soft porcupine, striking up in various black angles.

He looked marvelous.

“You didn’t have to dress up for me,” Cynthia giggled as she and Billie wrapped their arms around each other and bear hugged.
“Only the best for you Cynth,” he retorted with a grin.

When their eyes met, he could immediately see that she had been crying. But he knew better not to ask any questions, he’d simply wait for Adrienne to start up the conversation or at least fill him in when they were alone together.

“I deserve a fucking hug for dragging all this shit in here,” Tre huffed as he came puffing inside.

“JOEY! JAKOB! COME DOWN HERE!” Adrienne yelled at the top of her lungs. Cynthia hadn’t seen these kids in years, centuries even. She knew they had gotten big, but she wasn’t prepared for the preteen Joey and nearly there Jakob as they came stampeding down the stairwell.

“These are not my godsons,” she mouthed to Adrienne. “They got so big!”

“Hi Cynthia,” Joey smiled politely. He hadn’t seen this chick in a while. Jakob simply stood at her feet grinning awkwardly at her, sans two bottom teeth.

“Hey guys…you remember me, right?” she asked, awaiting a positive reply.

Joey nodded, “yea”. Jake simply imitated his brothers actions and words. After conversing with the kids for a few moments, the brothers scurried back upstairs for play.

The adults in the room crashed into the couches, each with a glass of something alcoholic in hand. After polite chitter chatter, the mood was getting rowdy thanks to the beverages, and nerves began to loosen.

“You ever think about having kids?” Billie asked Cynth, after a loud belch of course.
“I guess. But its not exactly on my to do list,” she answered after a sip of her wine.

Adrienne, who knew where her husband was heading, immediately brought up another topic. “You still have that recipe for Strawberry and wine pie? I haven’t made it in years,” she sighed, remembering the intricate and delicious taste it left in her mouth.

“Didn’t I email it—“
“How bout’ you ladys cook one up tonight for all of us,” Tre interrupted, smacking his trouble on her thigh. This surprising gesture sent a pleasant tingle down her leg and she nearly coughed on her wine.

“And why the hell can’t you and Billie do it? Oh wait…cus you’ll burn the house down,” Adrienne laughed earning a high five from Cynthia who sat in the seat across from her.

“Hey! I don’t know about Tre, but I can cook,” Billie Joe stepped in, giving his wife who sat adjacent to him a knowing look.
“yeah, cook hell” Cynthia replied, which earned another high five for the two women.

It was well past one in the morning, and Tre and Billie Joe had each turned in for the night. The boys were in bed, and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s Chocolate Fudge Brownie stood wedged between Cynthia and Adrienne, while a Lifetime film was rolling on the television.

“So…” Adrienne dragged on when the movie flipped to a commercial. “What happened between you and Jordan?”

Cynthia took her time and licked up a rather large spoonful of ice cream, trying her best to postpone this conversation.
“We just had a fall out,” she whispered after a large span of time has elapsed.

Adrienne knew she was lying, it was quite obvious actually. “Clearly you had a falling out, Cynthia. What happened?”
Her best friend only shook her head, with tears brewing somewhere in the corners of her eyes. All she wanted to do was forget about the entire ordeal and eat ice cream with her best friend while some cheesy film played. Was that too hard of a task?!

“Adie, I’m really not in the mood to talk about it. Can we just watch the movie...” Cynthia mumbled with an apologetic demeanor.
“No, we cant” Adrienne forced, snatching up the remote and clicking the television off. She desperately wanted to know what was troubling her friend…what Jordan had done to have her bawling at the airport…

“Oh my God!” Cynthia huffed. “Why can’t you just wait till tomorrow?” she nearly yelled.
“Because I can’t. I want to know what that scum did to you. Did he cheat?”
“No,” Cynthia whispered, eyes already tearing up.

“Did he he break off the engagement?”

She only shook her head no.

“Please don’t tell me he hit you,” Adrienne ruefully murmured. Cynthia didn’t respond, only a small sniffle erupted from her nose, and a single tear fell as her head drooped down.

A violent mixture of shock, anger, and disappointment erupted inside Adrienne Armstrong. She couldn’t believe it!
“Jordan hit you?!” she angrily shrieked, not believing Cynthia’s silent affirmation. “How could you not tell me?!”

Cynthia was at lost for words. Had she really endured over a year of senseless abuse? She found herself crying to her best friend, remembering the slaps, punches, disappointment, and frustration.
“You don’t understand, I-I wanted to tell you, b-but—“

“But what?!” Adrienne squealed in interruption, “I can’t believe this,” she wailed with hot tears springing to her eyes.

On cue, Billie Joe and Tre came waltzing down stairs, scratching their stomachs and all from a barbaric slumber.
“What kind of movie are you guys watching to be making so much noise?” Billie yawned, and then his expression changed from that of humor to one of alarm when his eyes caught sight of his wife.

“Adie? What’s w—“
“I don’t know,” she babbled with hurried tears. And before her husband could get a hold of her, she darted off the couch, and sprung upstairs.

She knew she was being a selfish bitch, but she honestly couldn’t help it. That was her best friend of a begillion years, it wasn’t nice hearing that her own fiancée had beat on her. She also felt betrayed in a way, weren’t best friends supposed to tell each other matters such as this? She had told Cynthia when she had an infatuation with one of Billie’s friends, and even when she didn’t want to have Jakob.

She’d just have to apologize tomorrow…

“Cynth? What happened?” both men asked. But Cynthia only continued to cry, covering her sobbing face with her shaking palms.

‘Go upstairs, I’ll handle down here,’ Tre mouthed to Billie Joe.

As soon as the lead singer sprang upstairs, Tre settled down on the couch where his Trouble was crying, and wrapped his arms about her.
“Women,” he mumbled, trying to make his friend laugh into his shoulder.

But it didn’t work, she continued to sob.

“Did Adrienne insult your cooking again?” he purred into her ear.

Another sob.

“Do you want me to do a happy dance?”

Another.

This approach clearly wasn’t working. So he tried a different method.

“Hey…” he cooed, snuggling her into his warm chest. “Aren’t you going to tell me what’s wrong?”

Her sniffles had quieted and her words actually came out decipherable.
“Don’t be mad at…hiccup…me,” she murmured against his damp shirt.

Tre only lightly kissed her on her forehead, squeezing her small frame tight. “I’ll kick your ass, but I won’t be upset,” he smirked.

And then Cynthia pulled herself off him, dragging her hands from her face and wiping off her tears, ready to drop the same horrific bomb.

“Tre,” she whimpered. “I…I mean…When I was with Jordan, he um…” she sighed exasperatingly.

“He what?” Tre gently coaxed.

She shut her eyes and just down right came out with it. “He used to hit me.”

There. Her secret was out, the jig was up.

And when she opened her eyes, she nearly drew away from him. The anger in his stormy blue eyes, mixed with shock and betrayal.