Hazy Days
eleven;
Joel takes me by the collar of my shirt and pulls my face against his. "You think I'm a fucking idiot, don't you? That I wouldn't notice two hundred goddamn bucks missing?" My eyes slide to the clock above the fridge. It's just past five. He tugs hard at my hair and my eyes start to water. "Don't pull this shit with me again, Victoria. I'm getting really sick of it."
"I'm sorry," I whisper. I'm not sorry. You don't have a brother who, more than anything, wanted that remote controlled helicopter for his birthday. "I'll pay you back." I don't have any money to pay you back with, Joel. He doesn't want to hear it. His hands go around my neck, so I grab onto his arms. They're bruised, the veins clearly outlined, and I scrape my nails deep into some of the puncture marks.
"Goddamn psycho," he mutters. He slaps me once before releasing me and goes out on the balcony for a smoke. I hold a hand against my face.
Someone knocks on the door four times and I look out the peep hole. He doesn't look like one of Joel's typical customers, but I'm still wary to open it. I tell Joel there's someone at the door for him, anyway. "Yeah?" he asks the guy. Joel doesn't do pleasantries; he's nothing but business.
"Uh, hey," the man says. From where I'm standing behind Joel, he doesn't look like he's much older than him. "I just moved in next door. Actually, my cousin Spencer has been living here, but I kind of moved in with him."
"Do you need something, man?"
"It's just, we got some of your mail. Here," he holds out a few envelopes. Joel takes them with a mumbled thanks. "I'm Oliver, by the way."
"I'm Joel, that's Victoria," Joel reluctantly tells him. Oliver's eyes flick to me for the first time, and for some reason, widen a fraction. Joel then closes the door on him and stands in front of me, taking me into his arms. My own arms feel like led as I hug him back. "Are you hungry? I've been thinking we can go to that taco place for dinner."
"That's fine with me."
"I'm sorry," I whisper. I'm not sorry. You don't have a brother who, more than anything, wanted that remote controlled helicopter for his birthday. "I'll pay you back." I don't have any money to pay you back with, Joel. He doesn't want to hear it. His hands go around my neck, so I grab onto his arms. They're bruised, the veins clearly outlined, and I scrape my nails deep into some of the puncture marks.
"Goddamn psycho," he mutters. He slaps me once before releasing me and goes out on the balcony for a smoke. I hold a hand against my face.
Someone knocks on the door four times and I look out the peep hole. He doesn't look like one of Joel's typical customers, but I'm still wary to open it. I tell Joel there's someone at the door for him, anyway. "Yeah?" he asks the guy. Joel doesn't do pleasantries; he's nothing but business.
"Uh, hey," the man says. From where I'm standing behind Joel, he doesn't look like he's much older than him. "I just moved in next door. Actually, my cousin Spencer has been living here, but I kind of moved in with him."
"Do you need something, man?"
"It's just, we got some of your mail. Here," he holds out a few envelopes. Joel takes them with a mumbled thanks. "I'm Oliver, by the way."
"I'm Joel, that's Victoria," Joel reluctantly tells him. Oliver's eyes flick to me for the first time, and for some reason, widen a fraction. Joel then closes the door on him and stands in front of me, taking me into his arms. My own arms feel like led as I hug him back. "Are you hungry? I've been thinking we can go to that taco place for dinner."
"That's fine with me."
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i usually don't like talking about politics buuuuut.. i voted for pedroTHIS HAS LIKE THIRTY SUBSCRIBERS WOW GUYS THANKS A BUNCH FOR STILL READING EVEN DOE MOST OF Y'ALL ARE SILENT THAT'S K