Innocence Meet Jealousy...Isn't She Stunning?

I thought my night was over. I thought that we were just going to gather up the guys and head on home, possibly celebrate a little afterwards. I thought that was the plan but apparently people had other ideas.

“Where’s Tristin? Jennah, have you seen Tristin?” my mother pestered me, her voice somewhat hysterical. By the sound of it, you’d swear…something was wrong.

“No, I haven’t. I thought he—“

“I can’t find him or Matt. Neither of them are answering their phones.” She rambled again, frantically typing useless texts into her phone. Her expression was worried and there was a feeling in the pit of my stomach that something just wasn’t right.

I left my mother where she was, knowing that I’d be of no help if all I did was stand beside her silently. I wound my way through the mass of people, slipping through people’s limbs as they loomed tall above me. I was headed for the back door and the moment I reached it, I barged through it, bracing myself for the cool night air.

It hit me like a brick wall, barreling through my pores in a wave of musty air. A parking lot sat on the other side, dotted with small groups of people lit in the darkness by lighters and the glow of cigarettes and various other things unknown. If Tristin was a part of any of those gatherings, he’d be dead by morning.

I could barely see anything in this darkness and faces were near impossible to detect, so much so that I didn’t notice the figure charging at me until was less than an inch from my face.

I was forced backwards towards the door again, stumbling on my own feet, a pair of arms serving as the only thing that kept me from smashing backwards into the door. “What the—“

“Jennah!” the voice yelled in my ear, pulling back to look at me in the dark, grasping my shoulders tightly. I squinted in the dark to place the face, “Jennah, you gotta come right now. Tristin, he—“

It was Matt. And he never finished his sentence. He ran off into the darkness, his form only visible beneath the street lamps as I did my best to follow him.

My mind was racing with terrible possibilities since it was now confirmed that something was, in fact, wrong. My head was pounding, blood rushing through my veins at a mile a minute as I sprinted alongside Matt, trying to keep pace with his newly sprouted, long, skinny legs.

“What happened to Tristin?” I panted, using effort to breathe evenly.

Matt merely glanced at me before running harder. His eyes flashed brightly under the street light, looking bloodshot, puffy and red and clearly unnatural. Feck Matt, what did you do?

The point where matt came to a stop wasn’t very far from the building at all yet it felt like it took us ages to get there. The area was lit by the light from the side of the building and I could see Tristin’s crumpled form leaning against the side of the building near the ground. As we approached, I noticed Tristin’s eyes were closed and he wasn’t moving in the least bit.

“Matt, what happened to him?” I screeched, demanding an answer.

I heard Matt suck in a deep breath, his pattern of respiration deep and staggered, “Some guy beat him up.” He mumbled, looking down to his feet.

“What?!” I screamed, noticing the deep purple bruise forming along his left cheekbone. I scrambled into a crouching position and bent over Tristin, pulling his face up so I could look at it. I was relieved to find out he was still breathing, but there was no other reaction coming from him. “Matt, go get my mom!” I ordered, pulling out my phone and punching in nine-one-one.

Great night.

//

Nothing was right about this situation.

Tristin was in a hospital bed, nearly his whole body bandaged up tightly for cuts and bruises, but nothing too serious. He had a single broken finger but that was hardly life threatening. However, knowing him, he’d be crying about it for weeks.

Neither Tristin nor Matt would tell anyone who did this to him although it was obvious that they knew. The large purple welt across Matt’s arm remained a mystery as well.
Matt spent most of his time in the hospital with us alone and with his eyes close, seeming to be trying his hardest to conceal the fact that he looked like he was on drugs. For all I knew, he was.

I sat with Tristin in his room as my mom went outside to call my step dad Mike, and make sure that Nate and Zed, the guitarist and bassist in Tristin’s band, got picked up by their parents safely because it was nearly two in the morning and they shouldn’t have to wait for Tristin. Matt was instructed to stay with us, likely because my mother wanted to further interrogate him on what happened. Either that or she planned on calling the police, despite Tristin’s pleas, and let them press for details. I think my mother was still oblivious to the fact that Tristin was hiding something, obvious by his refusal to explain what happened and his tantrum when my mother mentioned calling the authorities.

“Tristin, what happened?” I asked him. His eyes had been closed but I knew he wasn’t asleep. His lids fluttered at the sound of my voice.

“Nothing.” He responded, his eyes remaining shut.

“Don’t lie to me, Tristin. Why won’t you tell anyone?”

His lips went rigid, forming a hard, straight line, “There’s nothing to tell.”

I let out a frustrated sigh and ran my fingers through my hair, “Who did this to you?”

“Jennah, stop.” He spat, his eyes shooting open. His gaze looked furious and annoyed. I considered shutting my mouth like I would have with anyone else that looked at me like that, but this was Tristin. I didn’t care.

“No Tristin. Why do you have to make things so difficult? Why can’t you just say what happened and get this over with?” I sneered, standing up from the squeaky hospital chair.

“Shut up Jennah! Nothing even happened. Just be quiet.” He snapped, his voice implying that our conversation was over.

I let out an angry groan and stormed out of the room.
I couldn’t take this anymore.
I was going home.