Status: Ahh, this has been in my head for a while so... crossing my fingers.
Perdetevi.
Truth
“What habit?” Ricky asked. When neither of them answered he asked again, louder. “What habit?”
“Nothing.” Monica replied. “It’s nothing.”
She hadn’t known that Charlie knew about that. It wasn’t something she’d told anyone. It wasn’t even obvious. Charlie stared off again. Ricky shrugged and put out the joint on the cement floor, it had burned to a stub while the spoke but he didn’t seem to be concerned that he’d hardly smoked it. Monica’s cheeks were flushed with anger and embarrassment.
“You can trust me.” Ricky said.
Monica shook her head. “Forget it.”
“She shoplifts.” Charlie shrugged.
“Hmm.” Ricky hummed.
His lack of reaction set her nerves buzzing for the rest of the night.
They stayed over Ricky’s that night because Charlie was too high to find his way back home and Monica had no idea how they got there in the first place. Ricky could have offered to walk them back but he was too lazy. The house had five bedrooms, three of which were occupied by Ricky and his family. The other two had been turned into a workout room and a storage space.
Charlie and Ricky slept in the basement and Ricky let Monica stay in his room, though she thought she might have preferred the basement. His room was a mess; the floor was littered with stuff. Records, cassette tapes, and CDs filled every crevice they could and his blankets were scattered all over the place. He changed the sheets and even bothered to get her different blankets, it felt like there was an ulterior motive to it all. She sat down on the newly made bed and stared at him standing at the end of it.
“Thank you.” She said despite every cell of her being crying out to go home.
“’Course, Moni. Anything for a sibling of Chuck’s.” Ricky said, leaning against the door frame.
It didn’t look like he would be leaving anytime soon and that made Monica nervous. Ricky made her nervous. He seemed like one of those guys that people are always warning you about. She slid off her shoes and pulled her knees up to her chest, feeling vulnerable for no other reason than Ricky’s studying gaze.
“What’s on your mind?” He asked.
“Nothing.” She replied.
The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “You need to learn to speak your mind.”
“Why?”
“’Dare to be true.’ George Herbert.”
“I… don’t understand.”
Ricky shook his head, still smiling. “Say what you think about people because they usually need to hear it.”
“You make me nervous and need a haircut and shave.” Monica didn’t miss a beat.
If he was asking for the truth, he would get it.
“Perfect.” He said.
“You give me bad… vibes. I don’t like you all that much.”
He frowned for a second, then brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Mind if I tell you what I think ‘bout you?”
Monica shrugged. Her palms were sweaty, she’d never been so honest and she was worried about what he thought of her. Especially after she had just told him that she didn’t like him.
“You act like prude but’cha have a rebellious side.”
“Because I shoplift?” She asked.
“Nah, everybody shoplifts once in their life.”
“Why, then?” She watched him think over his reply for a second. “Tell me what you’re thinking. I probably need to hear it.” She said snidely.
Ricky smirked. “It’s… your eyes and the way you hold yourself. It’s manipulative and, hell, it’s dark hun.”
“Dark?” She squeaked.
“Don’t get me wrong here, it’s not a bad dark -,” He started.
“I’d like to go to bed now.” She cut him off.
“Okay.”
“Nothing.” Monica replied. “It’s nothing.”
She hadn’t known that Charlie knew about that. It wasn’t something she’d told anyone. It wasn’t even obvious. Charlie stared off again. Ricky shrugged and put out the joint on the cement floor, it had burned to a stub while the spoke but he didn’t seem to be concerned that he’d hardly smoked it. Monica’s cheeks were flushed with anger and embarrassment.
“You can trust me.” Ricky said.
Monica shook her head. “Forget it.”
“She shoplifts.” Charlie shrugged.
“Hmm.” Ricky hummed.
His lack of reaction set her nerves buzzing for the rest of the night.
They stayed over Ricky’s that night because Charlie was too high to find his way back home and Monica had no idea how they got there in the first place. Ricky could have offered to walk them back but he was too lazy. The house had five bedrooms, three of which were occupied by Ricky and his family. The other two had been turned into a workout room and a storage space.
Charlie and Ricky slept in the basement and Ricky let Monica stay in his room, though she thought she might have preferred the basement. His room was a mess; the floor was littered with stuff. Records, cassette tapes, and CDs filled every crevice they could and his blankets were scattered all over the place. He changed the sheets and even bothered to get her different blankets, it felt like there was an ulterior motive to it all. She sat down on the newly made bed and stared at him standing at the end of it.
“Thank you.” She said despite every cell of her being crying out to go home.
“’Course, Moni. Anything for a sibling of Chuck’s.” Ricky said, leaning against the door frame.
It didn’t look like he would be leaving anytime soon and that made Monica nervous. Ricky made her nervous. He seemed like one of those guys that people are always warning you about. She slid off her shoes and pulled her knees up to her chest, feeling vulnerable for no other reason than Ricky’s studying gaze.
“What’s on your mind?” He asked.
“Nothing.” She replied.
The corners of his eyes crinkled when he smiled. “You need to learn to speak your mind.”
“Why?”
“’Dare to be true.’ George Herbert.”
“I… don’t understand.”
Ricky shook his head, still smiling. “Say what you think about people because they usually need to hear it.”
“You make me nervous and need a haircut and shave.” Monica didn’t miss a beat.
If he was asking for the truth, he would get it.
“Perfect.” He said.
“You give me bad… vibes. I don’t like you all that much.”
He frowned for a second, then brushed his hair out of his eyes. “Mind if I tell you what I think ‘bout you?”
Monica shrugged. Her palms were sweaty, she’d never been so honest and she was worried about what he thought of her. Especially after she had just told him that she didn’t like him.
“You act like prude but’cha have a rebellious side.”
“Because I shoplift?” She asked.
“Nah, everybody shoplifts once in their life.”
“Why, then?” She watched him think over his reply for a second. “Tell me what you’re thinking. I probably need to hear it.” She said snidely.
Ricky smirked. “It’s… your eyes and the way you hold yourself. It’s manipulative and, hell, it’s dark hun.”
“Dark?” She squeaked.
“Don’t get me wrong here, it’s not a bad dark -,” He started.
“I’d like to go to bed now.” She cut him off.
“Okay.”