Louie.

My dad and Beth kept insisting that I invite my friends over for dinner. It was all I would hear for a couple of days after the incident, but I was against it.

I can’t handle these two worlds colliding right now.

I was successful at ending the idea of my friends coming over, but I couldn’t stop Lorraine from getting Patrick’s number. I’m not even sure how she managed to, but she did, and she would not stop talking to Rockwell about it.

I’d lay on my bed, with the ceiling fan on. My furniture would continue to collect dust, but I could still distinguish the part where the television would be. For a moment, the house was still, my thoughts would cease, and I’d find some sliver of peace.

Then I’d hear Lorraine babble on and on about Patrick and it made me sick.

I don’t like the fact that they’re talking and I’ve mentioned it but Lorraine told me to fuck off. Bitch.

There has been a shift though, I can feel it.

My dad and Beth would let me go grocery shopping for them. The gave me my license and the keys to the car. My dad gave me a hard look and told me not to, “Screw this up.” I didn’t.

I did as I was told, I wasn’t stupid. The still keep the key to the car, but now they let me use it whenever they need me to be their errand boy.

I don’t entirely mind though. They never ask me to take anyone with me and I’m glad. I can escape Rockwell's piercing gaze, Lorraine’s annoying voice and everyone else's judgmental looks.

When I’m driving by myself, I have time to think, but it’s about different things.

I’m almost eighteen.

This will be my last year in high school.

I won’t be stuck with them for long.

~~

“Hey, Ben.”

It’s the first thing I hear where I step through the door, returning from a trip to the grocery store. My eyes land on Rockwell, who is laying on the couch in the living room. His leg is propped up with pillows. The neon green cast isn’t as bright as it used to be, and it’s covered in messages from his friends. Rockwell is leaning on one arm of the couch and decided it was a great idea to loll his head back, looking at the world upside down.

The first thing that pops to my mind is that. . .he looks harmless. . . maybe even cute.

I quickly throw the idea out the window and remember that I should have responded to him. Then I decide not to and instead take off my shoes and leave them by the door. I head into the kitchen to put everything away.

I hear the TV turn off, and then footsteps come into the kitchen.

“What did you get?” he asks. I pause, canned corn in my right hand, my left holding open a cabinet. I look back at him, at his green eyes that are looking at me in a way I can’t understand. And then I turn back and proceed to just continue what I was doing.

I know he wants to talk to me, I know he wants me to become the me I am when we’re both alone, watching TV. I feel Rockwell’s eyes staring me down and I feel like he’s begging me to relax and just act normal for once.

I can feel myself shiver under his gaze, and I’m pretty sure he noticed it, but I don’t say anything to him. I just finish putting the groceries away and head upstairs to my room.

I am afraid of what might possible come out of my mouth if I let myself talk to him