Flood

Even though it wasn’t a small college, word about what happened at the club spread quickly. I became a celebrity overnight and I hated it. Jennifer had shown me how to cover the bruise with makeup. She walked with me to art to keep the people from harassing me. When I walked in, Professor Ferrell was waiting for me.

“Are you okay, Charlie?” he asked, looking me in the eyes.

“Yeah, I’m okay.” He didn’t look convinced. “Just… let’s just not talk about it, please. I just want to get my mind off of it.”

“Of course.”

I sat down and unpacked, feeling my classmates’ eyes on me. I couldn’t bring myself to sketch just yet. I was still tired and I had a raging headache.

“Here.”

Spencer sat beside me and handed me a pill and some water. He wasn’t facing me so I made him. I sighed. Turner had done a hard job on him. He had two bruises on his face and a bruise mark on his neck. He smiled and grabbed the hand that was reaching out to him.

“You should see the other guy,” he joked and I laughed, crying a little. “Take that. If you’re feeling half as bad as I am, I know you need it.”

“Thank you,” I said.

“You’re welcome. My mom had some-”

“No,” I interrupted and made him look at me again. “Thank. You.”

He smiled gently and held my hand again.

Everyone was in the room and Professor Ferrell announced we would still be working on our projects.

“You’ll be turning them in the week before the end of term,” he explained. “I know you think you’ll have plenty of time with a week-long fall break, but that’ll go faster than you think.”

I stared at the bed sketch I had done. It was finished and, after the events of last night, I knew exactly what my third sketch would be.

-

Spencer walked me to my next class. Having him beside me did a better job at keeping people away; especially when they saw the bruises he was sporting. He didn’t leave until he was sure I was in my classroom safely.

Izzy smiled at me and gave me a small hug.

“You okay?” she whispered and I just nodded as class began.

People kept turning to stare at me. I kept my head down, wishing I was anywhere but here. As I was taking notes, the professor came over. I was sitting at the end of the aisle so she didn’t have to walk by anyone.

“You can leave early if you want,” she whispered in my ear. “After this, I’m just announcing the homework but it’s on your syllabus.”

“Thanks,” I whispered back and packed my bag.

I hurried back to my dorm and climbed into bed, falling asleep right away.

-

It took a week for everyone to get over trying to talk to me about everything. That didn’t stop Spencer from walking me to as many classes as he could, though. Turner was in jail permanently now. Even though I wasn’t underage, apparently he had broken probation for the third time in a row. My parents called me the night after the fight, freaking out. They wanted to bring me home but I convinced them to let me stay.

On Saturday, I went to Spencer’s house for my tutoring session with his mom. She was waiting for me and pulled me into a hug. She didn’t say a word about the fight, though, to my relief. As normal, we worked for an hour.

“Where’s Spencer?” I asked when I realized he still wasn’t down.

“In his room,” she answered. “He wanted me to send you up when we were done. I have to get to the restaurant.”

“Okay. See you later.”

She waved, wiggling her fingers, and I walked up the stairs slowly. I realized I didn’t know which room was his but I heard music so I followed it. It was loud and I had to pound on the door. The music stopped and he opened the door.

“Hey,” he said, stepping to the side so I could come in.

His room was simple enough. He had a queen sized bed with black blankets. His walls were plastered with posters of old bands and movies. He had an oak desk and his laptop sat atop it. There was one wall that wasn’t covered in posters. Instead, it was covered in artwork. In the bottom right, A.V. was painted in curly writing.

“My aunt did them,” he said when he saw me looking.

“She was so talented,” I whispered.

“Yeah, yeah she was.”

“Your mom said you wanted me to come up here,” I said.

He rubbed the back of his neck and gestured for me to sit on the bed. I did and he joined me. He held my hand.

“I’m sorry,” he said, glaring at the floor.

I frowned. “For what?”

“I should’ve done more at the club,” he mumbled. “I shouldn’t have given him the chance to hit you and-”

“Hey,” I whispered and he looked at me. “Don’t apologize.”

“How did he find you?”

I sighed and toyed with his blanket. “He heard my parents talking about it when he was on probation. He wasn’t supposed to leave the state….”

He put his head on mine and I closed my eyes. It felt nice, being this close to him. It wasn’t until then that I remembered the kiss we had shared in the club. I could tell he was thinking the same thing, because the air around us seemed charged with electricity.

“I’d really like to kiss you right now,” he whispered and I opened my eyes, turning to look at him.

“So kiss me,” I whispered back.
He hesitated for a second as if he wasn’t sure but finally relented. I leaned into his kiss, touching his
cheek gently. I didn’t want to aggravate his bruise. His hand slipped to the back of my neck and I closed my eyes. I put my other hand on his chest as he wrapped his arm around me. Slowly, he licked my lower lip. My heart was racing as I allowed him access.

Our kiss got more heated and I wrapped both of my arms around his neck. He held me to him tightly. I put pressure on his chest and he broke away, wincing in pain.

“Sorry,” I gasped. “I didn’t mean to hurt you!”

He chuckled. “It’s okay,” he said. “Just lingering bruises, that’s all.”

“How many do you have?” I asked.

He shrugged. “A few.”

I narrowed my eyes. “How many is a few?”

“Two or three.”

I glared at him and, before he could stop me, I lifted his shirt. I covered my mouth in horror.

“Oh, Spencer,” I gasped.

“It looks worse than it is,” he said quickly, pulling his shirt back down. “I swear.”

“I’m so sorry he did that to you!”

He pulled me so that I was lying down beside him. I put my head gently on his shoulder and he wrapped his arm around me.

“It wasn’t your fault,” he said. “I didn’t have to jump him.”

I nodded but I still felt guilty. I closed my eyes, not sure what to say.

“Hey, Charlotte?” he whispered.

“Yeah?”

He cleared his throat a couple of times. “I was wondering…. I mean, you don’t have to; especially after what happened Sunday night…. But, do you think….” I smiled. His hesitance was adorable. He took a deep breath. “You’re going to make me ask, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes I am.”

He laughed breathlessly. “Will you be my girlfriend?”

I grinned and kissed his cheek. “Yes, yes I will.”

He grinned and kissed me gently.