Coming Home

Derrick watched as Sasha pulled on her jeans and shrugged into her flannel shirt.

“Jesus Derrick, you’re even more screwed up than me.”

Derrick didn’t reply as he continued staring at the closed bathroom door which Sasha had just supported Cassadee into. He couldn’t even look at Cassadee without losing himself.

“I think we should stop fucking,” Sasha finally said, pulling her hair out of her shirt. Silently, Derrick nodded, his hands gripped tightly onto the sheets which he really wanted to rip up and burn.

He looked at Sasha, grateful that she was able to keep a clear head right now. They might have had a weird relationship, but she was still a good person.

“Do you think she’s okay?” Sasha asked, sitting next to him, watching the bathroom door. Derrick shrugged, feeling that his heart might collapse if he opened his mouth. Sasha looked at him, before sighing and placing a palm on his and gripping it tightly.

They sat like that for a while.

~

“Hey Jared-“

“Is she with you?” Jared yelled into the phone. Derrick could hear silence behind Jared.

“Yeah. What the hell happened?”

“I don’t know. We were at an office party, at least I think it was an office party- and Tobias and I left her for a moment-“

“You left her alone? What the fuck Jared?” Derrick snapped, running his hand through his hair to keep them from shaking.

“Don’t even start- you’re one to talk. What’s going on? How did she end up at your place?”

“She- she’s-“

“She’s what Derrick, speak up. No wait doesn’t matter because we’re coming over.”

“No don’t. I don’t think-“

“JESUS DERRICK, WHAT’S GOING ON?”

“I don’t know okay!” Derrick stopped to breath for a moment, his breathing ragged and shallow. Jared kept quiet and Derrick continued talking.

“I saw Vincent. He got one of his political friends to dump her outside my house. I don’t know what they did, but I- I- she called me twice Jared. And I didn’t pick up,” Derrick said, a nausea spreading through him. He remembered looking at her name the first time she called and just stared at it. Then when she called again, he thought it was for forgiveness, but he was with Sasha. And when he picked up and she didn’t speak, he thought it was a mistake.

He didn’t know.

Derrick heard Jared sigh across the phone.

“As long as she’s alright now Derrick. You take good care of her okay? Update me,” Jared said. Derrick managed a small grunt before putting the phone down and rubbing his temples.

“Hey Derrick, I’m gonna leave you two alone now,” Sasha said as she crept in. Derrick felt her put an arm on his shoulder and turned to face her.

“Thank you,” he replied huskily. Sasha looked at him kindly, and Derrick suddenly saw her for who she was- a friend.

“I’ll see you soon yes?” Sasha said, giving him a small smile. Derrick returned it, and nodded. He watched as she left, closing the door behind her.

~

Derrick busied himself in the next 15 minutes, clearing sheets, preparing tea- just to stop thinking. Then he finally got the guts to check on her.

Pressing his ear to the door, he realised it was silent. There was no water, no rustling of clothes. White hot fear griped him and he knocked the door.

No reply.

“Cassadee?” He said, her name like acid down his throat.

Then with a breath, he turned the door open.

She was crouched next to the sink, her clothes strewn into a messy heap next to her. She had her arms wrapped so tightly around her knees that Derrick was afraid that if she let go she might just crack and splinter. She was so pale and vulnerable in her bra and underwear, and the cold didn’t seem to bother her. She just sat there, arms and legs drawn inwards, shaking and looking at the empty air.

He had never seen her like this before. Derrick realised jolting that she had never allowed herself to be weak in front of anyone, or him. And whatever happened to her, must have completely ruined her.

He crouched in front of her, searching for her eyes, trying to bring her back. Then he saw it, he saw the redness around her cheeks, the crusty blood that had stained her face and the black line of tears down her cheeks. There was a bruise too, ugly and swollen- surrounding the perimeter of her eye.

“Cassadee?” He asked softly, and she didn’t respond. She wasn’t even breathing loudly, and her silence scared him. He wasn’t sure if he should touch her or not.

“Cass?” He asked again, reaching his fingers out to brush the heated surface of her cheek.

The moment his fingertips grazed her cheek, she looked at him. Her eyes were lost, there were no other words to describe it. Derrick had lost her twice, but now he understood the expression of someone who had lost herself.

He wrapped his fingers along her jawline, using his thumb to brush her cheekbones. He was reminded that he would never get over her, and as long as she was around, he would love her. Even if she was a mess.

“Are you okay?” he asked. What a stupid question. But the minute he said it, he saw Cassadee’s eyes well up with tears. Kneeling in front of her, he looked at her- separated by an arm, his fingers on her face. He watched as she let go of her left hand to grip his wrist, and he noticed how cold she was. She was freezing, and her fingers and palms were caked in dirt, with bruises littering her pale skin.

Then she started crying, lurid and raw. The way a person sounded when something had died. He had seen her cry like this before, but nothing hurt as much as this. Because he could have saved her, he should have been there for her. He watched as she tried to contain in the sobs that pressed up against her, to no avail and heard her agonizing cries bounce around the toilet floor.

As she cried, her defences came down. One by one, her arms unwrapped around herself and she melted into Derrick. Holding him for support, because there seemed to be nothing holding her together now. Pressing her head against his chest, Cassadee didn’t care if she smelt like vomit, or if she looked like a skank half naked. All she wanted, was to feel whole again. She wanted her scars gone, she wanted the pain to go away.

They sat like that for a while, both of them holding onto each other like their lives depended on it.

“No offence, but you need to clean yourself,” Derrick finally muttered into her hair. He felt her stiffen below him, before pulling away. She stood up shakily, her knees buckling slightly. Derrick caught her and she shot him a weak smile.

“You think you can manage?” he asked. He watched Cassadee stumble into the bathroom, before gripping the metal towel rack with trembling hands and looking at him. He saw her bite her lip, then nod slowly.

“Okay,” he whispered, walking out of the toilet. As he closed the door, he though he heard a hoarse whisper from her.

“Okay.”

~

She came out 15 minutes later. In an oversized shirt that reached her knees, with nothing but boxers underneath. Derrick handed her an ice pack to put over her eye.

“Cass, I need to see what they did,” Derrick said, steeling himself. He watched as she stuck her right hand out to him, the bruises turning a grotesque yellow-brown colour, the same with the left. Then he looked closely at her face, looking at the light scars across her collarbone area- they would heal quickly.

Then there was silence as she stared at him expectantly.

“All of it,” Derrick made out slowly. Cassadee swallowed, her head still humming from being beaten up, cool water droplets dripping onto her face from the ice pack.

Slowly, she lifted the edge of the shirt up to just below her breasts and Derrick bit the inside of his mouth so hard that it started bleeding.

There were bruises along her ribs, hidden by the waist band of his boxers. Derrick knew they went all the way down, and his heart burned. Then he saw the two gashes- two light and stumpy lines. One right above her belly button and one on the right side of her ribcage.

Cassadee watched him look at her scars, the one she tried so hard to forget. She watched Derrick’s eyes cloud over with self-loathe, fear and sadness as he looked at her marred body. There was a pain that she saw in his face that she had hoped might be there. That meant he still remembered. She watched as he reached out absent-mindedly to run his fingers along the marks that their ugly past had left them. His fingers rough and calloused over her soft body.

Then he yanked it back as if the scars burnt him. Cassadee hastily dropped the shirt and closed the gap between them, wanting to press away the humming sadness brewing inside him.

“It’s okay,” she croaked. Derrick gave an unimpressed chortle, then looked at her. He marvelled at how she never used her past against anyone, and he wanted to bottle everything between them up and store it inside him.

“L or P?” he asked, his throat suddenly closing up.

He watched as she reached up to brush his cheek, just as he had did before.

“P,” she whispered.

Cassadee had sunk. She knew now that no matter what this boy did to her, she would always, always love him. And she had fallen into a pit so deep that she would never, ever hold a grudge against him. Because they fit together like broken glass, always scarring and never healing. It was with Derrick that Cassadee felt the safest, because she knew she would always be willing to love him more than she loved herself- just like she loved her family.

And scars don’t matter.