Keep Away

Ugh. What happened?

I moved and instantly felt like my leg was on fire. With a groan, I rolled over to the side and managed to open my eyes, a bright light shining before me and a whiff of axe. I found myself staring into the face of a baby faced black haired boy, who looked about 14 or so. His face turned from a look of concern to a sense of relief.

“Oh thank god, I thought you would never wake up.”

“What are you doing in my house?”

“Trust me, this isn't your house,” he chuckled. “Take a look around you.”

I tried to sit up, but the pain beat me to it. I collapsed and grasped my leg, which was now wrapped up in a cast. I stared straight past the boy, whose face was cringing, and saw beige colored furniture surrounding me. I frowned and saw a kitchen covered by a dark brown door. This was definitely not my house.

“Careful! You sprained your right leg! It's gonna hurt a lot, trust me I've gone through a few myself.” He gave me a small smile. “But hey, a broken bone is way worst.”

“Wait, what?”

“You fell out of the tree in our front yard and sprained your leg. My brother ran outside and he saw you on the ground, passed out.”

“Brother?”

“I'll go get him from you.” The black haired boy ran into the kitchen and I stared vastly at the brick fireplace in front of me. How could I let my guard down so easily? I was so upset at the fact that my spot in the tree was stolen, that when it was finally available, I became cocky. I ignored the risks and scrambled up the branch anyway. This was my punishment, falling out of the tree and spraining my knee. And here I am, in some stranger's house, while they're pitying me. I didn't need to be pitied by anyone.

Only myself.

Suddenly the kitchen door opened the boy who was different from all others was standing before me. How ironic was it that I arrived at the McDonough house. Connor was looking cute as always, wearing a red flannel and jeans. He had a smile curling on his lips.

“Hey.” He went over and took a seat next to me while I stared at him.

“You....!” I grabbed the collar of his shirt and he was immediately taken back. “You were that boy in the tree!”

“What are you talking about!?”

“No one could possibly know that I fell out of a tree, except the tree hugger himself!” I shook him and his smile disappeared.

“What? You've got the wrong person! That wasn't me!”

“Then who was it!?”

“My brother Riley! He was the one here earlier!” I scowled and released his shirt.

“Jeez,” Connor smoothed out his collar. “I find you passed out on the grass, with a sprained leg and you're the one threatening to hit me? Some friend.”

“You and I are not friends,” I gritted through my teeth. “and I can tell you're still irritated with me from English.”

“Why wouldn't I be?” His lips were now twisted into a grimace. “You treat me like some sort of pest and you don't even see me as a friend, much less an equal. Look,” He leaned in and his blue eyes burned into mine. “If someone offers you help, it's best to accept it because who knows if someone's ever gonna offer you any again?”

“Why do you even want to help me?” I raised an eyebrow.

“Because you were crying for help,” he replied flatly. “You didn't even have to say a word.”

“That's not true!” I protested. “And I don't need your help.”

“You needed my help tonight, so learn to appreciate what people try to do for you. Especially, someone as stubborn as you.” He started to taking slow steps to the kitchen, but stopped at its door. “Oh by the way, I think you're a pretty good writer.”

“Excuse me?”

“What? It was a compliment.”

“No. That's impossible. You haven't even read any of my work. All my stories are --” I stopped and my eyes shifted over to the coffee table where my black notebook laid perfectly open. I suddenly felt vulnerable, all my secrets and sappy words about love were all revealed; and it all it took was a single flip of a page. I looked at Connor again who was now biting on his lower lip, staring at me hesitantly. I quickly took hold of my notebook and closed it in a split second, hugging it against my chest.

“I'm sorry if I wasn't supposed to look, but it was just right there and um...”

“If someone's wallet was wide open on the ground fat with cash, would you just take it like it's perfectly okay?”

“Look, I don't know what you're so upset about, you're amazing at writing so it's no big deal if anyone sees your stories.”

“No big deal?” I echoed. “Seriously?”

“Trinity...”

“You looked through my stuff without permission.” I growled, emphasizing my anger through every word I said. “You read my story. It would be perfectly okay, if my story was published, because no boy would ever read it. But what you did is just plain rude, alright? Now you know that I'm a lovesick, lonely little girl. Great. Thanks a lot. I really appreciate it.”

“I don't think you're a lovesick.”

“I don't suppose you think I'm lonely then?”

“No. You are lonely,” He took a deep breath and went back over to sit next to me. “I think you're very lonely. You just want someone to understand you, right?”

The familiar feeling in my cheeks returned again and I turned over to the other side of the couch, not wanting to face him. “Just go away. I'm in pain and you're making it much worse.”

“Fine! Whatever you want princess!” It must have been frustrating to be around me, because he seemed irritated with just about everything I say. “Oh and just so you know, there will be people who will understand exactly what you're going through. If you don't bother to let them listen, then you really will be lonely for the rest of your life.” He left the living room and I found myself surrounded by silence once more.