A Place on My Pillow

She insisted on going back to work before she was completely healed. That meant she was stiff, sore and in pain almost every time she moved. Millie went easy on her, even though this drove Polly up a wall. That and everyone else was being overly nice and accommodating to the girl. Sure, her ribs were black and blue, and one was cracked severely. Sure, she had a bruise on her jaw that covered a lot of surface area on her face. Sure, there would be no kissing anytime soon, not that she had been kissing anyone really to begin with. But still, this was no time to baby her. She just needed things to remain the same. It was hard to convince herself that nothing had changed because of her attacker, when no one else would cooperate. She tried to convince them as well that, although she was bruised and her sense of safety was broken, she could continue on. She had to. She couldn’t just wallow in the self-pity that would have once left her immobilized. She couldn’t, wouldn’t and should never let that happen to her. She had to move on. And so did everyone around her.

The bruises would fade. The ribs would heal. She would feel safe eventually.

They needed to realize this.

But they just would not listen.

“Hey, do you want me to walk you home?” Darren asked one night after Millie had gone home, leaving the store to be closed by the two younger workers.

“No,” she said stubbornly. It was unlikely that the attacker would come back and harm her again. Not after Darren beat the crap out of him. That’s what Polly had heard anyway. She’d overheard Darren and Millie while she was still in the hospital. He explained how he’d chased the figure off and had then said he’d known the guy for a couple of years. He wouldn’t do that unless he was drunk.

That didn’t make Polly feel any better.

She gathered her stuff while Darren shut off the lights one by one. They walked together across the darkened bookshop to the front door. Polly left last, locking the store up as soon as they were both out. She looked around at the dark, empty city street. Her hands shook slightly, thinking about the pain and terror of that night. She tried to convince everyone, herself included, that she was unfazed, that she was past everything. She was lying.

“Actually, Darren,” she said softly. He understood and held out his hand. She took it and he proceeded to walk her back to her home, striding along slowly beside her. Walking hurt just like sitting up and any type of upper body movement. The first time, after she was out of the hospital, that she got out of bed, she had nearly cried out in pain. She had slept in Alex’s bed, the softest place in the world and it had still hurt her to get out of. Alex had noticed immediately and had picked her up out of the mattress, setting her on her feet. She had been grateful, even more so when he hadn’t told her that she needed to rest. She had to maintain her income so she wasn’t leeching off the Jackson twins all the time. They still wouldn’t allow her to pay any part of the mortgage or the bills. She demanded that she buy her own groceries though. This they allowed, but just barely.

“How are you holding up?” he asked gently. He was a gentleman who was nothing but considerate and kind since their kiss. She was thankful that he didn’t change because of what had happened. If he was just like this because of that guy, she wouldn’t have been able to stand his presence. But he had changed the error of his ways before that. She had to admire that. He admitted one night that he had been nervous and had simply wanted to impress her. She explained that she didn’t need to be impressed and had pressed a chaste, slightly painful kiss into the corner of his mouth. He had burst into a face full of grin and it had been the cutest thing she’d seen in a while. That is, aside from Cady tackling Alex in a hug after a particularly long, hard day and Alex asleep in Polly’s arms during one of their action movie marathons, his mouth hanging open in exhaustion. His face had relaxed and the lines had disappeared. He looked like he was no older than 16, a young boy with no knowledge of the harsh world. It had been a sight that Polly never really ever saw again. He never slept easily, not unless she was with him. It was astounding.

“I’m good. I mean, I hurt a lot. But I have pain killers for that. Besides that, my bruises are healing just fine. I’m not sure how my ego is holding up though.”

“How’s everyone treating you?” he asked.

“Like I’m made of glass,” she replied bitterly, staring at her shoes as she walked.

“I can imagine. You’re stronger than you look though.”

She smiled gratefully at him.

“If only everyone saw it that way,” she retorted, her tone faraway and wishful. Darren could tell that he’d lost her attention, so he didn’t ask her anything else. He enjoyed her company, even if she wasn’t paying attention to him.

“I like you,” he whispered. She hummed and looked over at him, her eyes confused and out of focus. Her mind was still miles away.

“Nothing. Forget about it.”

She turned her head away, her brow scrunched together as she tried to figure out what had just happened. They walked up to her front door and he turned her towards him. She looked up and smiled.

“Thank you. I appreciate this. I just, didn’t feel safe.”

“Understandable,” he replied, leaning in. She put her hand on his chest. He stopped short and drew back, apologizing softly. She shook her head. He looked cute like that, with his eyes wide and his lower lip unintentionally jutting out.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to kiss me. I just want you to be gentle when you kiss me, with the, uh, lip and everything.”

“Always,” he said gently. He pulled her in and kissed her, their lips sliding together delicately. They were careful not to press too hard, in fear of hurting the younger girl. The door opened and Cady cleared her throat.

Polly glared quickly at her older brunette friend.

“I’ll see you on Wednesday,” Polly said to Darren and slipped inside the house. Cady slammed the door shut.

“Why are you mad at me?”

“I don’t like that guy,” Cady grumbled and stalked away. Alex looked up from the couch where he was staring at a book. Polly could tell that he wasn’t reading it before. He hadn’t made any progress since the night before.

“What guy?”

“Darren,” Polly answered, kicking off her shoes and padding into Alex’s bedroom. She stripped off her pinstriped pants and blouse, tossing them into the corner with his mounds of dirty clothes. She pulled on a pair of his sweatpants and one of his dark t-shirts with some sort of band logo. She walked out into the living room and sat down with Alex. He let her into his arms, leaning her against his warm side.

“I don’t like that guy either, Cady. But he saved Polly’s life. We can’t hate him.”

“I don’t hate him,” Cady retorted. “I just don’t particularly enjoy his presence.”

This made Polly laugh.

“Cady, I love you.”