Thorn

I tell Hannah the story once I have calmed down. Her cheeks turn red and anger fills the expression in her eyes.

“You’re fucking kidding me,” she spits. I shake my head slowly.

“Nah. I wish I was.”

We are silent for a good amount of time. Every once in a while Hannah opens her mouth as if to say something, but she stops herself. I assume it’s something that she knows I don’t want to hear.

“Roslyn, if you take him back, I will not speak to you again,” Hannah tells me. I know she’s not fucking around. "He's not good for you, or to you for that matter."

“Years of building trust and having it torn down fuckin’ sucks,” I mutter.

“Fuck him. He’s a fucking asshole who didn’t appreciate you. I’m telling you, you could do so much better. You deserve someone who actually loves you.”

Hearing that makes it difficult for me to swallow, but I manage to, harshly. My throat is sore and I hold back tears. I will not let him make me cry.

“Yeah,” I whisper after a moment. “Fuck him.”

*

Hannah and I lay sprawled out on our blankets on the ground and we watch Donnie Darko. We have made a blanket fortress in her living room, her television trapped inside with us. We eat popcorn with our eyes glued to the screen. Here, we are transported back to being ten years old again, lying inside our own world. In here, there are no problems. In here, there is no drama and heartache. Most importantly, in here, there is no Tommy.

“I shouldn’t find this psychopath as attractive as I do,” she admits with a full mouth of food. I laugh and shrug.

“I never had a thing for Jake, but this movie is an exception, I think. As for the whole psychopath thing, I’m not sure. He’s got a giant following him around and having him do bad shit. I'd think it'd drive you a little mad, too.”

“But all this bad shit is for good cause! And Frank saved his life!”

“True,” I ponder. “But not for long, really. When you think about it.”

Hannah develops a sour frown on her face and looks down at the almost empty bowl of popcorn.

“Attractive people don’t deserve to die.”

“He’s twenty in this, you know. Five years younger than you,” I remind her.

She waves her hand in the air. “No matter. Still attractive.”

I laugh at her and stand up, as there’s a knock on the door. I look through the peephole and see a familiar head of long, brown hair. My voice gets caught in my throat and my heart races.

“Who is it?” she calls out. I turn around quickly and shush her. Though she’s far away, I can see her roll her eyes and get out from the fort.

“He already knows you’re here, Ros. Where else would you be?” She points down the hall. “Wait in my room, I’ll shoo him off.”

I do as I am told. I immediately hear muffled shouts as soon as I shut the door and I walk to Hannah’s bed to slip under the covers, lying in a ball on my side. I grab a pillow and place it over my head, plugging my ears and mentally willing him to leave. It amazed me how the 5’10, 200 pound man never scared Hannah. I remember how it took me ages to even be able to look him in the eye, but he never had any sort of effect on her.

There is finally silence and I sigh in relief, but the sheets disappear from on top of me and my body is being grabbed and lifted in someone’s arms. His scent is a dead giveaway. I do not bother to fight; I know my chances to get him to leave or for me to run away are slim to none. I open my eyes and a very pissed Hannah is standing in her living room, crossed arms and a face more red with anger than I had ever seen in my life.

He walks down the hallway and I hear a door slam loudly from behind us.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask bitterly.

“To talk,” he says simply, harshly dropping me on my ass once we were inside the elevator, where it was apparently too late to run back to the security of Hannah’s apartment.

“I don’t want to go anywhere with you. I left for a damn reason, Tommy,” I spat.

“You really think I’m going to let you go that easily?” he retorted, making me cross my arms over my chest and clench my hands into fists. “I know I fucked up, but you’re not exactly a saint here, either.”

When the elevator doors open, I walk forward quickly and don’t wait for him.

In the car I don’t bother to ask where we’re going. I know we’re going home. Or, his home. Damn sure isn’t mine. I sigh.

“You’re such a stubborn bitch,” Tommy mutters quietly, and I assume the comment was not intended for me to hear.

I bite back a retort and keep my mouth shut. I don’t want to argue, and I don’t have the energy to fight, either. I just want him to leave me alone. When he pulls into the parking lot of our apartment complex I stay in the car, even when he’s out and has shut his door so I am alone inside. He walks to my side and opens the door, harshly grabbing my arm and pulling me out once he’s unbuckled my safety belt. I’m sure to stay silent; I know it’ll get under his skin.

His grip doesn’t loosen the entire way to our apartment. He walks me inside and shuts the door behind him.

“Sit on the couch,” he demands, but I ignore him. I step into the kitchen and look for something to drink, but he comes up from behind and turns my body around, making me look at him. His eyes are staring into mine in some mixture of anger and sadness, but I don’t feel anything inside. I don’t feel sympathy, or anger, or anything.

I just want to be gone.

“You deserve an explanation,” he begins, but I’m quick to cut him short.

“I don’t want one. There isn’t much to explain.”

“Yes, there is! What you saw, what you know, it’s true, but there’s so much more that you don’t even know-”

“You cheated, and you lied, and God knows what more you did. Don’t need to know much else.”

“But you do!” He screams, and his eyes squint as he does. “You don’t know why!”

“And I don’t fucking want to! Don’t you understand that?” I shout back even louder, and he steps back. I think he’s surprised I’m fighting back. I’ve never raised my voice to him, or anyone for that matter. His eyes go teary and he steps forward again to place his hand on my cheek but I swat him away.

“Don’t touch me.”

“God damn it, Roslyn! I’m really fucking trying to make things better!”

“I don’t want you to,” I tell him calmly, truthfully. My brain and heart are both exhausted from what he’s put me through. I walk away quickly and make a steady pace down the hall and for a second I think that he’s given up, that he’s stayed behind and he knows it’s over.

I feel his hand grab my arm and I whip around to slap his cheek; his head turns to the side and he covers the side of his face with his hands. I’m quiet, and he’s quiet too. I feel a twinge of guilt and put my hands over his, pushing them down and placing my lips on his already red and swelling cheek.

“I’m sorry,” I murmur genuinely against his skin. “You didn’t deserve that. I don't know what came over me.”

I feel his arms wrap securely around my waist as he rests his forehead down against mine. “I did, though,” he whispers. “I’m sorry; I should let you leave.”

I’m hating myself for how weak I am as I kiss him softly. “I think we just need some time apart to calm down,” I explain. “I know I get angry, but you know I’m not capable of ever truly walking away from you. We're just really, really fucked up, Tommy. I love you.”

He kisses me again before stepping back a little, and I realize I’m crying as I feel the salty tears on my lips. We’re quiet as we stand there, and I turn around to go back to Hannah’s apartment.

This time, Tommy doesn’t follow.