His Car Crash Heart

Aria woke up wonderfully. She hadn’t slept well in god knows how long. And even though her pills had definitely worn off she still didn’t see a single hint—or hear, for that matter, neither feel—any of the creatures that either haunted her or usually kept her company. She felt a pang of nostalgia when Minnie didn’t smile at her from her ankle, where she usually perched herself so she wouldn’t get lost in the morning, but Aria knew it was for the best.

She felt unusually confident as she opened the door, looking around only to hear voices chatting downstairs, to what she guessed was either the living room or the kitchen. She could detect someone with a southern accent, and she guessed it was that Dirty guy Pete had told her about the previous night. Sighing, she pushed his bedroom door open and looked inside, finding two unmade beds and the room empty.

As always, curiosity got the best of her and Aria took the chance to try to discover a bit more of Pete’s mystery personality. She could see Morrissey posters, a lot of them, which didn’t surprise her. One from the Doors. There were a lot of pictures hung on the wall, too, Polaroid photos. A lot of spaces were empty, and she guessed Juliet had been present in those. There were papers cluttered everywhere in his writing desk—there was even a feathered quill! Oh, he truly faked poets. How romantic of him.

Closing the door, Aria finally moved downstairs, softly, trying not to abruptly interrupt the seemingly animated conversation they were having. When she lowered the final step, Pete looked away from his—what Aria guessed—mother and grinned widely at her. He looked like he had had some good night sleep, too.

“Morning,” he greeted, making her blush when Dirty and his mom looked over to her in surprise. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t really had time to introduce the subject.”

“Hey there, darlin’,” Dirty grinned. He had charming smile, despite his not-so-perfect teeth. “Ya Aria?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” she sheepishly returned, rubbing her bare arms even though it wasn’t the least cold inside the cozy house.

“Ah, Pete was babbling about you all night,” he barked out a laugh and the olive skinned boy threw him the cereal carton.

“I was not!” he defended pathetically, making his mother laugh along. “I wasn’t! I really wasn’t! I didn’t even wake you up!”

“You did! You were dreaming and calling ‘er up, man!”

Pete merely groaned, rubbing his face.

“I’m so tired,” he moaned.

“I’m sorry about this,” Pete’s mom interrupted. “But, uh, what are you doing here, dear?”

“Oh, I-I…” Aria stuttered, feeling bare without her demons tugging at her sleeves and locks of hair.

“Her car ride ditched her last night,” Pete lied. “I was… I couldn’t sleep, so I drove around and I found her sulking on the side of the road. So I picked her up.”

“You’re making it seem like I’m a stray cat,” Aria glared at him.

“Well, aren’t we all?” he let out a beam, making her roll her eyes with a little laugh. “Come on, sit, do you want some food?”

“Yeah,” she nodded shyly, moving to sit beside him on the table, on the other side of Dirty and in front of Pete’s mother, who was still looking at her, evaluating her. “Oh, um, I-I’m sorry, I should probably introduce myself. I’m Aria… Pete’s friend.”

“Nice to meet you, Aria, I’m Dale,” the woman greeted with a warm smile. Aria sighed in relief, almost as if she had dodged a bullet. She probably had. “So you seem… young.”

“I’m seventeen.”

Dirty choked on his bacon which made Pete fall from him chair in his attempt to dodge. Dale burst out laughing as the poor man tried to breathe. Pete laughed too, and Aria noticed they had the same laughter, which made her happy for some reason. Dale was a pretty woman, and she seemed nice and warm and everything a mother should be, and everything her own mother was not.

“You’re seventeen?!” Dirty’s eyes were wide. “Oh, shit, man, I’m a pedophile.”

“You’re twenty three, moron,” Pete laughed, throwing a piece of toast at him. “Besides, Aria does not think like a High Schooler.”

“Great! Then I have a babysitter I can hire!” Dale clapped her hands once and grinned.

“Mom, Andrew and Hilary are old enough,” Pete rolled his eyes.

“I was talking about you,” she replied.

Aria giggled, placing a hand over her mouth so she wouldn’t make a fool out of herself. It was so outgoing, the entire situation. Her mother would’ve had a fit if the roles had been reversed. Pete wouldn’t even be alive. Oh, and if Nick had seen him…

“And how did you two meet?”

Aria froze, eyes snapping to see Pete carelessly wiping a piece of bacon from his hoodie, shrugging as if it didn’t matter. She thought he’d lie.

“On Hauger’s office. We just kinda bumped into each other more often and ended up being friends.”

“Oh, well, I was wondering how you’d befriend a girl this nice,” Dale nudged his arm and Pete merely grinned. “Since all you bring home are… how do you say—?”

“Whores?” Pete cocked an eyebrow when Dale glared. “What? It’s true!”

“It’s true,” Dirty shrugged. “All save Juliet, ain’t she?”

“No, her too,” Pete muttered.

Aria jumped when Dale’s fork fell to the tiled floor with a big sound, watching her son through wide eyes.

“What?” she stuttered.

“Juliet and I are done, mom,” Pete told her uncomfortably, shuffling in his seat. “For real this time.”

The table fell into an awkward silence, Aria poking at her food until she felt the intense gaze of Pete’s mother on her. Looking up, she found her eating, eyes away from her, but a big, wide grin painted on her dark, olive lips. And there was a replica of it on Dirty’s mouth.