I hope that teenagers, like myself, read this entrancing novel and find themselves falling in...
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Word of what happened at Brad’s part spread faster than rattlesnake venom. It wasn’t long before the entire school body gossiped and heard whisper of how Ricky Marson and Thomas Flinch got their butt’s handed to them by two underage teens. Peter and I were the talk of the town for over a week until the event finally simmered to a close and would forever be put down in the school’s “interesting history.” Pete, Ricky, Thomas, and I weren’t the only ones going through a healing process, however.
Three weeks had passed since the party, and my injuries were completely healed by then; the small cut I received below my eye faded to its dull white crevice and eventually melted into nonexistence. A large whelp swelling my left cheek—after holding ice on it for hours and days went by—subsided to merely a blotchy red patch on my skin and then soon disappeared. Other than red handprints across my neck and tender muscles in my shoulders and back, I was fine; soon I was back to my original self, and so was Peter. Ricky, on the other hand, had to be hauled off to the hospital for examination, but ended up with only a minor concussion and bruises along his face and stomach. Thomas was bruised as well, but not quite as badly. Things settled down and returned to normal, Christmas came and went with little events, and the real remedies of winter swept our small town.
Every blade of grass that clung to life turned a dull yellow now, insects hibernating and their clicking no longer heard at nightfall; trees were stripped completely of their leaves, clouds came in great, thin walls and dense atmospheres and animals nestled warmly underground and in trunks of bark. Dew still sprayed the grass at dawn and faded by noon, chilling wind stirred the lifeless ground below and shivered the bones of workmen and walkers wrapped tightly in fur coats and scarves; the holiday cheer burst and vanished just as quickly, blankets of snow covered on certain days and left chunks of moisture and puddles afterward. Snowmen were erected by children and melted to memories later on, Santa paid his rounds, and the days switched over to a brand-new year in January; giving off a new and exciting feel of what is to come in the following twelve months and what sort of action and love will spring. But as the days grew colder and harsher in winter, Alexandria grew healthier and stronger.
The skeletal structure of her body gradually began to thicken and add fat to make Alex look stout but healthy; I watched as her appetite increased over the weeks and bulk was gained to her figure, no longer did she look so fragile and bound to break at the slightest touch, but still outstandingly skinny and small. Her lips lost all traces of its cracked outline and painful-looking creases, and were now smooth and a light, delicate pink (which the majority of the time was coated with purple lipstick). The sunken darkness under her eyes lightened and ultimately vanished, leaving behind sweet, bright violet eyes without a hint of weariness. She became an overall unique and healthy teenage girl, and I was proud to see her eating regularly, sleeping all night and waking early, and seemingly enjoying her stay at my humble apartment. She still slept in my bed while I lounged on the couch, and always had either a bowl or cereal or oatmeal for breakfast. Alex took a shower every night before I did, change into her pajamas, and we sat separately in the living room and watched TV until we were too tired to stay up.
Although she was grateful for my defending her at the party, Alex didn’t take long to return—almost—to her quiet, unusual, and slightly aggravating self. She did not glare at me anymore or act negatively towards me, but then again did not show total kindness or extreme liking for me, either. But, that was Alexandria for you, I suppose; it didn’t bother me too much. The only part that left me frustrated was how I could never understand what she was thinking and how her mystery still tied me down. I learned, over the weeks from small conversations, that she loved heavy metal music, cruising around in cars, walking in greenery areas like forests or meadows, and hated to read or play sports and video games. In any situation, that was not a lot of information to a person who has been living with you for nearly a month. Tonight, I decided it was high time to stop keeping my distance and being so careful around Alex and try to get much more out of her than I normally could. So that was what I was going to do.
Alexandria was watching television on her side of the couch when I entered, my mind going over what I would ask. She looked at me suddenly when I came in, and jumped up. Her hair was still damp from the shower, and the ends of her hair were curling up; that’s what happened when she got her hair wet in any way. It would curl out on the ends, but normally she straightened it when dry. She had her pajamas on, snuggled up, and from the corner of my eye I saw my black leather jacket laying with her blanket—she still carried it around, and I still didn’t know why.
“I need to talk to you,” we both said simultaneously.
Her immediate statement made me freeze where I stood, wondering if I had misheard her. She stood exactly as I did, hesitant, waiting for me to say something. Her eyes were opened wider, indecisive.
“Wait,” I withdrew, shaking my head. “You…need to talk…to me?”
She nodded her head subtly, confused. “Yeah, I do. Is something wrong with that?”
“Not at all, I’ve just never heard you say that before.”
She rolled her eyes; I was sure that was a habit for her. “You don’t know me very well yet, Blake.”
“That is something I am aware of,” I replied with a grin. Walking over to the couch and plopping down I said, “Let’s sit, and tell me what you’d like to talk about first.”
She did as I requested, scooting closer than normal to talk easier. “I was thinking about something…” she began.
I looked at her eyes tentatively, politely and actually interested in talking to her, focused. “What would that be?”
“You remember how you stuck up for me at…that one guy’s party, right?” She bit her lip, seeming somewhat nervous about something.
“Of course,” I said amiably. “What of it?” I had my arm rested on the back of the couch above me, placing one foot on my leg and leaning back. Alex sat with her hands on her lap in a sophisticated manner, like she was giving an interview.
“Well….if we were to go to other public places together, would you always do that?”
Okay, now she was starting to confuse me again. I didn’t know what she was getting at, but I gave her my honest answer. “No matter where we are,” I confirmed.
Alex sighed heavily, flicking her eyes to the television, and then back to me. “Blake,” she said. “I said that you don’t know me very well, but I really, really don’t understand you one bit.”
I tilted my head. “Why?”
“You’re just so….nice all the time about everything. You’ve been doing all this for me, and haven’t even tried to make me get a job yet or find a way to live on my own. We’re not even close! I don’t talk to you all the time and we know nothing about each other! And I’ve been her for almost a month.” She was throwing her hands around as she spoke, saying all that in one huge breath.
I listened intently and furrowed my brow. “What are you getting at, precisely?” I asked curiously.
“Why are you still treating me like this?” she questioned. “That’s what I’m trying to figure out. You are a mystery to me.”
“Something we have in common,” I winked. “Is this what you wanted to discuss?”
She sighed again, flinging herself back in the sofa. “No,” she said. “No. I just…I get so caught up when I talk to you; it’s hard to concentrate on one topic. Does that make sense?” Her eyes were bright, almost desperate, and indicating some hidden emotion.
“That is perfectly understandable,” I replied solemnly. “Believe it or not, I get the same way. You wanna know something?” I paused, holding her eyes to mine. “I don’t care if we become close friends or know a lot about each other or not. I’m going to be here to help you until you don’t need me anymore, and that’s a promise.”
“But why?” she said meekly, her lip quivering slightly. “I don’t get it.”
“Quite frankly,” I said. “Neither do I. But I guess that part doesn’t matter. Now please, tell me what you need.” I smiled, and she relaxed her expression in response.
“Okay.” With one last sigh, she continued. “I want to go to your school now, like you offered a while back.”
Her countenance was serious, determined. Shocked as always, I didn’t know how I should have responded, lost momentarily in cluttered thoughts. “I see” was my blunt answer. Then, as I regained reality, I spoke again. “Alex, that’s awesome to hear….I’m glad you’re taking an interest in school again.”
“It’s something I need to do, something that’ll help me make good things out of my life.”
“You are absolutely correct,” I said happily. “I think it could be exciting, having classes with you. That just means more time with me.” I winked again, jokingly.
“You really think so?” she asked with a more serious tone.
“Of course I do. I like spending time with you; you know this.” I gave her a half smile, crossing one ankle over the other.
“I know,” she agreed.
“All I have to do is explain everything to the principal, tie a few loose ends….we’ll have you enrolled before the end of this week.”
“Sounds like a plan.”
Just as the conversation was about to mold over to the TV, I stated, “Alex, I need to ask you two questions.” I decided to hold off my other curiosities until later.
“What is it?” she glanced over, halfway in the conversation and halfway to the television, which had been increased in volume.
“First, what’s your last name? I have to at least know that.”
She almost smiled, the corners of her mouth twitching. “Lexington,” she answered.
“Alexandria Lexington,” I said a loud. “It sounds nice.” I smiled to myself.
“And your second question?” she pressed.
“What changed your mind, completely, about going to school?”
Alexandria shrugged, looking at the TV, and replied simply, “You did.”
On Tuesday the next day, I went straight to the office at six o’clock, Alex trudging beside me, to arrange exactly what I said I would. The secretary was a plump, flustered lady with curly brown hair, bug-eyed glasses and beady eyes. She was always busy and filing paperwork, and sometimes could be snappy and rude; today, fortunately, she seemed to be in a better mood. I approached the office window, smiling kindly; with Alex looking prettied up and shy as ever; like a young, new schoolgirl.
“Morning, Blake,” Mrs. Ronda greeted automatically, shuffling through an assortment of papers. She licked the tip of her index finger to flick through each sheet, hardly looking up.
“Good morning,” I replied. “Mrs. Ronda, I have very important business to discuss with Mr. Thurman.”
Ronda snorted, still not glancing towards us. “Sophisticated, are we?” She said, mocking faintly. “Yes, alright, he’s in his office. Go in.”
“Thank you.” I beckoned Alex to follow me and swept through the door to the principal’s office.
The organized office was square-shaped, a large and waxed glass desk in the far north side, and a filing cabinet close by. The desk supported a single computer and a few knickknacks I assumed were more personal items; adding a couple posters and warm heating, the rest of the room was quite bare. Two chairs faced the desk before them.
Mr. Thurman, a tall and stern-looking man with a twelve o’clock shadow and fixed expression, looked up from his computer screen. “Ah, Mr. Moss,” he said matter-of-factly. “What brings you to my office this morning?” He took one good, suspicious look at me, and then his eyes looked up and down Alexandria, who almost shied behind my back, her eyes concentrated on the ground. “And who is this?” he asked a little more softly.
“Mr. Thurman,” I started. “This is my friend, Alexandria. We were wondering if there was any possible way to enroll her to our school.”
The principal’s eyes became more skeptical, and he gestured one manly hand to the chairs. “Have a seat, you two.”
“My first question is,” Mr. Thurman said in a businesslike manner, cuffing his hands together on his desk. “Why isn’t a parent or guardian with Ms.…?”
“Lexington,” I said mechanically.
“Lexington,” he finished. “Why are you with her? If I’m correct, you’re only seventeen, and she is much too old to be put in your care.”
“You are….halfway right,” I said carefully. “You see, sir, she doesn’t have any parents anymore. She actually didn’t have a home until recently.”
Mr. Thurman was not expecting to hear that. He cocked an eyebrow, his face slightly taken aback, and he studied Alex more closely. “I see,” he murmured. “And I’m assuming she’s residing with you right now?”
“At the current time, yes.” Alex remained deathly quiet through all this, keeping her eyes away from Thurman’s.
“That’s quite a predicament,” Thurman said. “May I ask how this came to be, Ms. Lexington? And how you ended up at Blake’s house?”
It wasn’t necessary for me to wait on Alex’s passing glance before I knew she wasn’t going to answer. Still, I waited briefly for a response, and summarily took her place.
“She isn’t comfortable answering that question,” I said solemnly. “But I can assure you, sir, everything worked out just fine.”
He nodded out of courtesy, but his bulgy eyes did not look convinced. Something beneath the surface of his thoughts believed there was wrong and unrighteous involved in Alexandria’s stay with me, but whatever it was, Thurman did not say it.
“I guess I won’t have any more questions for you now,” he said finally, still skeptical. “However, I am going to have to speak rather persuasively to the Board of Education if this is going to be allowed; all youth deserves education, but there are some situations—“ he looked us up and down again swiftly. “—that must be taken into extreme consideration before approving. You are a trustworthy student, Mr. Moss, and I have no doubt you are telling the truth, regardless of your sometimes immature behavior with young Peter Hernen. And I also trust that if Ms. Lexington were to be enrolled, you would be her guide and assure she fits in well?”
“That won’t be a problem, sir,” I said dryly.
“Good, then. I will speak with the President immediately and will notify you of his decision as soon as possible. In the meantime, why don’t you escort Ms. Lexington back to your home and head on to class, hmm?”
With that, we stood quietly and exited, not talking until we reached my silver vehicle. Alex looked unsure of herself and somehow determined about something, and turned her attention to me at once.
“Do you think I’ll be able to go?” she asked, curling an index finger through her purple-highlighted bang.
“We’ll do whatever it takes,” I promised, keeping my eyes focused on the road. “Just relax and try to have fun at the house, okay?”
She nodded, biting her lip. She appeared deep in concentration, her thin brow furrowing at the windshield, one hand clamped the other arm like a seatbelt. Her lips were bright and violet, making her pallid skin pale against its color. Her dark clothes and ripped skinny jeans matched with all the purple on her face—including her eyes—and I wondered how she managed to pull it off so nicely after not caring about looks or clothing for so long before I showed up.
The apartment came into view, almost ghostly in itself as there were several other residents occupying the two-storey structure, but hardly any were seen. I stopped the car and got out only to come around and open Alex’s door, smiling a friendly farewell before leaving her alone for many hours. “Are you sure you’ll be all right?”
“Of course,” she replied, almost mockingly. “I’ve been doing this for weeks, remember?”
“I know; just never hurts to ask.” I smiled again. “Help yourself, as always. And I have to work today, so I won’t be back until around ten or so.”
“It’s fine,” she nodded. “I’ll probably be watching TV in the living room when you get back.”
“Snuggled in your PJ’s, dirty dishes on the table, hair wet and all, yeah I know,” I confirmed, this time grinning.
She chuckled bleatingly for less than a second, and then gave me her kindest expression she could give without actually smiling. It was absurd, how much I was getting attached to this girl in the few short weeks I’ve known her, liking the comfort of her friendship and innocent gleam in her pretty-purple eyes.
After that, I watched as Alex went inside, glancing at me from behind just as she closed the door. I stepped back into the car, revved the engine, and drove onward to school.
My mind was aloof throughout the day, so I was unaware of what really happened, making the day slip by faster than I expected. Language brushed by harmlessly as I dug my nose in notes, jotting down vocabulary; PE was painfully boring, and Gerald and I talked aimlessly during the whole hour; in Biology, I quickly informed Peter about Alexandria’s enrollment in the school, which may or may not happen, and he took it excitingly and said he looked forward to seeing her again and helping her out; Home Economics was also drooling as we merely did notes all hour, reviewing our next cooking lesson; Environmental science passed without any event or understanding of how incredibly terrible on hour could be, and lunch was satisfying after stuffing down burger and fries; American Government went by in the same fashion as fifth hour, and finally the day came to a slow close after Algebra III. I scurried happily to my car, saying goodbye to Pete and promising we would hang out soon, and drove to work. The local grocery store was surprisingly not as crowded, and I packed bags of food and essentials without complaint, going through customer after customer, thinking only about my paycheck on Thursday. I saw a few familiar faces throughout my job and said a few hellos, but the majority of the time was routinely and expected. Monotonous was always the perfect word to describe it.
Just as sanity was about to crash into sheer boredom, my time ended to be at work and I left entrancingly. Alexandria racked into my brain, knowing I was about to see her again—and the thought tingled my senses. I was excited about it.
The night was cloudy and brittle, cold in every description; I rounded the corner of the street and came to a halt in the large driveway of the apartment, already looking up at the second-floor door to where that mysterious and exciting girl rested. I smiled involuntarily, questioning the new and strange unexplainable thoughts. The light was off and television illuminating flickers of light—not much changed around here anymore. I ignored my growling stomach and stepped out of the car, pacing to the door and unlocking it.
There she was, snuggled on the couch with a blanket (and my jacket hiding under it) in her pajamas and hair wet and dangly. It always curled when contacted with water. She had her legs tucked under her chin and blanket wrapped around her body, staring at the TV of some comedy. I noted that she usually enjoyed watching either comedy movies or reality television shows—I’d have to keep that in mind.
Alex heard me enter as the door closed shut, and turned her head jerkily toward me, hair whipping with the movement. Her eyes switched from blank indifference and molded into a soft, nearly delighted texture, almost liquid violet and more fragile than a flower in a windstorm. The lighted and unsmilingly happy expression that washed over her made my own heart swell and explode in my chest; her care was actually beginning to show in her, finally, since we’ve known each other.
“Hey, Alex,” I greeted, beaming at her.
“Hey, Blake,” she said, adjusting her legs in order to look at me better.
“You’re looking happier today,” I commented, walking over to the couch and sitting down. “Excited for school?”
She tucked her hands in between her legs and leaned over the couch, keeping her eyes on mine. “Believe it or not, I am.”
I cocked an eyebrow. “Really? I thought you hated being around other people.” I noticed in my peripheral vision there was two used plates on the table—everything was exactly how I predicted it.
“I do hate being around people,” she said. “But I don’t hate being around you, and that’s what I plan on doing while I’m there.”
Even with the small acknowledgement of her getting used to me and starting to appreciate me, Alex’s words still shocked me. I laid my head on my hand and reclined on the couch. “Oh, well isn’t that nice?” I said in a subtly joking tone. “And I’m guessing I’m the only person you feel comfortable being around? Not even Peter?”
She shook her head politely. “You are the only person I’ve felt comfortable being around since my mother, and that was years ago.”
A lump formed in my throat and my body tensed; that was the first time she mentioned anything about her family. “Oh,” I muttered, my joking tone completely vanished. “Your mother?”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she mumbled swiftly.
I wasn’t about to pressure on. “Totally understandable,” I said amiably. “I’m very honored to be someone you can feel natural with.” It was all I could think to say.
She shrugged, letting the topic go. “What’s your school like?” she then asked, eyes eager as they overpowered my vision. “I want to know.”
I couldn’t deny I’d tell her whatever she wanted to know, so I said, “Well of course. Where do I start?”
And I started babbling away, giving her the details of my classes, the putrid atmosphere of Language, the food we ate at lunch, the teachers and the ones I liked and disliked, the gym, assemblies, the people I hung around the most and the people I wasn’t as fond of, everything. I must have talked for over an hour straight, leaned back on the couch and gazing up at the ceiling. Alexandria looked wholly interested in the conversation, keeping her eyes focused on me and snuggling tightly in her blanket, knees curled up, and occasionally stopping me mid-sentence to ask a question or two. Other than that, I had never seen her so intent and intrigued in a topic and I had the feeling it was more of her relaxation occurring towards me than the actual subject. I went through the classes I hated the most and the ones I was good in, the times I had gotten in trouble over stupid things and other random facts; I told her about the new kids who had came and who were the most popular students. I told her the total size and population of the school and where to get to all the multiple classrooms and cafeteria. I must have gushed for ages, but Alexandria never once looked bored or drifted out of the conversation. Soon she was snuggling tiredly in the couch, and I lowered the volume on the television.
“Are you getting tired?” I said, finally stopping. My arm was tossed over the sofa’s top.
“A little,” she murmured sleepily, eyes swirling in and out of reality. I chuckled lightly at her weariness, finding it fascinatingly hilarious. She glanced up as I laughed but didn’t comment, almost passing out on the spot.
“I should let you go to sleep,” I said, mind wandering, voice distant. “Thanks for listening to me ramble on—it’s nice to have someone to talk to.”
I didn’t know if it was because of how incredibly tired she looked or out of respect, but Alex muttered back, “You can always talk to me, I’ll listen.” Her tone was faint.
I smiled at that, comforted by the thought. “That’s good to know.”
She almost smiled again, and what happened next, I would never know how to react. Yawning loudly, Alexandria scooted slightly closer to me and allowed her head to tilt and fall bleakly on my shoulder, light as a feather. A long and skinny arm brushed against my shirt and curled around my waist, the other arm falling limply under her blanket. I stared at her, bewildered, as she cuddled against me and fell peacefully to sleep. Astonished, I placed my arm tenderly around her, cuffing it just below the back of her head, and pushed her comfortably against me. I tossed my head back on the sofa.
Neither of us moved that night, and I hardly noticed I skipped supper and a shower as I fell asleep next to her.
I awoke just as the sun peeked through the curtains of the apartment, snorting suddenly as I lifted my head, eyes blurry and incomprehensive in my drunken tiredness. It took me a moment of recognition to remember why I had fallen asleep sitting up on the couch like this, and glancing beside me answered my question. Alex was still there, fast asleep and breathing soundlessly, a hand resting lightly on my chest. Her nose was buried in between my jawbone and shoulder, countenance relaxed and meditating in the dream world. It was actually a very cute sight.
Not wanting to wake her, I shrugged as carefully and gently as I could out of her clinging position, keeping my hand under her head and slowly lowering it to the couch on a pillow. I readjusted her blanket and tucked her warmly in it, knowing how much she hated being cold and getting the chills. My mind was still trying to accelerate as I heard the loud, moaning growl of my stomach. I scurried straight to the kitchen and began washing dishes while preparing to cook pancakes and bacon. I dug out a couple pans and shortly the air was filled with the sound of sizzling bacon, running water and flopping flapjacks. I poured two glasses of milk and piled on two plates of stacked pancakes with running syrup and a side of bacon on the table. I ate hurriedly, shoving the food hastily down and chugging the milk, and then ran to the shower after grabbing a set of fresh clothes. I bathed quickly and spent less time enjoying the hot water, throwing on the clothes and brushing through my thick hair and scrubbing my teeth. The plate and glass was still resting on the table when I came back through, Alex still snoozing.
I crept silently to the door and slipped through, shutting it carefully. Once out into the bright, sunny and dreadfully chilling air, dew clinging wetly to the grass, I hopped in the car and jammed the heater on at full blast. Once I was warming up and stopped shivering, I sped to school in a bigger rush, getting there on time by mere seconds.
Aside from Pete hording me about hanging out, nothing exciting happened again. Two school days came and went in flashes, two work days droned by agonizingly. Two days disappeared with little going on, and it was Thursday afternoon when I was called down to the office after seventh hour ended.
“Mr. Moss,” the principal nodded as I came into his office and sat down. “How have you been doing?”
“Well, sir. And you?”
“Fine. Now listen, Blake; the Board and I have come to a decision.” Thurman looked very hesitant at what he was about to say, but maintained a straight face.
“What would that be?” I asked eagerly.
“We have decided to allow Ms. Lexington a spot in our school, and she will be added in like any other student and treated like one.”
I let out a great sigh of relief. “Thank you, sir. This means a lot to me, a lot to both of us.”
Thurman nodded bluntly. “Yes, well, we will see how things work out. She can start first thing tomorrow morning, and I will give her a senior schedule and see how she does.”
“Again, thank you,” I repeated. “You won’t be disappointed; she’ll graduate at the top of her class.”
Thurman smiled, but his eyes were tight. “You will be her guide and escort her to each class, and she will also have the same lunch hour as you. Give her my best, and I’ll see you both in the morning.”
We shook hands, and I was positively beaming as I swept out the building to my car, which was one of the last in the parking lot. I whistled along the way back home, cranking up the music and blasting the heater. I went by to pick up my paycheck and cashed it in, but I didn’t have to work today. I approached the apartment by 4:00 and parked my vehicle, clicking the doors locked with the press of a button. I scurried to the door quickly as the wind was freezing, walking in to the warm atmosphere of my house.
Alexandria was munching on some chips today on the couch, hair dry and straight and clean clothes on her body. She was watching something, and I saw that the dishes had been put away and the living room organized.
I wanted to comment on her work, but was too eager to not approach with, “I have good news for you.”
Alex turned her attention to me, sucking on the tips of her fingers. “What’s that?”
“You’re enrolled to my school now!” I exclaimed, grinning broadly.
She nearly choked on the Cheeto she popped in her mouth. “Oh, that’s awesome! It gets so boring around her, I do nothing but eat all day; I feel like I’m getting fat.”
I laughed shortly at that, knowing anyone that scrawny couldn’t assume they were fat—but I noticed the humor in her tone. “You can start first thing tomorrow. Mr. Thurman will give you a schedule and I get to be your guide.”
She looked pleased. “I’m glad,” Alex said. “I’m really excited to start. But what if we don’t have any classes together?”
“Any class you don’t have with me but do with Pete, he’ll look out for you,” I promised with a wink. “And besides, no one will mess with you, believe me.”
“And if they do?” she asked, a little more edgily.
I looked at her seriously. “I won’t let them,” I reminded.
Her expression eased. “Okay, then I’m good and ready.”
I smiled at her and joined her on the couch. “Did you like the breakfast I made you?”
“It was cold by the time I got up, but I reheated it, and it was delicious. Thanks.”
“Good, good,” I nodded. “How has your day been?”
“Same ole’, same ole,” she replied. “Yours?”
“The very same.” I laughed.
“Blake, can I ask you something?” Alex started, turning more serious.
Her eyes were glimmering again, deep in tenderness and remarkable in its violet gleam. Her pale skin and smooth face had increased in healthiness and appearance since I first laid eyes on it. She had her hands laced together on her lap, ankles crossed and legs pressed together.
“Anything,” I said casually.
“Why did you let me fall asleep on you last night? I was so tired, and you could’ve just pushed me off….” I understood the numerous meanings that hinted in her tone, even though she didn’t try to give it off.
“I wasn’t going to be rude, and it didn’t bother me,” I smiled. “It doesn’t matter. But hey, when do I get the bed back?”
“I wouldn’t get your hopes too high,” she shot. “I’d get used to sleeping on the couch.”
I scowled playfully. “You’re in my house, girl. I wouldn’t get too comfortable if you’re going to act like that.”
Alex rolled her eyes—her favorite thing to do—and I pushed her lightly; her position made her easy to tip, and she toppled over onto the sofa. “Hey!” she snapped.
I laughed profusely as she threw herself up and tackled me, her small and meek body unable to move me very far. I latched my hands around her wrists like prison shackles, shoved her off me and tossing her to the floor, landing harmlessly in the carpet and hair tangled up. “Don’t try me, Alex,” I warned while grinning challengingly. “You won’t get anything out of this but a couple black eyes.”
“After beating up Ricky, I’m sure a cute, sweet little girl like me would be nothing,” she said innocently.
“That’s righ—“ I didn’t finish my sentence before she was on me again, wrapping her legs around me and using all her might to throw me on the ground. Caught off guard, I rolled over the blanket and slipped to the floor, Alex bursting into laughter on from the cough, looking down at me.
“Ha! Don’t mess with sweet little girls, Moss!” she taunted.
I rubbed the back of my head and smirked, rising up. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.”
She laughed again, the first time I had ever seen such joy expressed in Alex. “Don’t tell Pete you got beat up by a scrawny little girl, or he’ll laugh at you like I am.”
I fought back a grin, and lightly pushed her again. “Shut up, Alex.”