His eye is swollen, a rainbow of black and blue and yellow sticking out against the red stain lacing his lips. He's hunched over, one arm gingerly circling his waist the other pressed firmly against the doorframe for support. The smell of liquor and pot, of sex and smoke rolls off of him, assaulting my nostrils and I know where he's been, what he's been doing.
He coughs, spitting blood into the bush by the doorstep and all the words I want to yell at him slip out of my head. I wrap my arm around him, stealing myself against the look of pain that lines his face as I help him inside.
"How long are you going to keep doing this?" I ask, easing him down onto the couch. I've got my own problems to worry about, my own life that's falling apart. The more appropriate question is how much longer am -I- going to keep doing this.
He shrugs ever so slightly as he leans his head against the back of the couch. Another round of coughing leaves him haggard, his breathing heavy from the over exertion. For a minute I think he's dozed off but then he swallows. His voice comes out barely above a whisper, "Can I crash here tonight?"
I nod, knowing if he goes home in this state there'd be a huge fight with his mom and he'd end up right back at the Ravine. It became a pretty standard routine since Sean left. Some nights he shows up battered and bruised and I'm not entirely sure if it's from his dad or some guy whose girlfriend he'd managed to talk out of her panties. Other nights it's with pizza and movies, like before only without Sean and Alex sitting between us. Either way I've become accustomed to his company, the light snoring drifting in through the opened bedroom door making it feel like I'm not entirely alone.
He slowly lifts his head, concern creasing his forehead as he studies me out of his good eye. "You okay?" he asks.
I stare down at the rubber bands lining my wrist at the faint scars they cover up. Am I okay? Yes. No. I don't know.
"Red?" he asks leaning forward, a groan escaping his throat from the pain of bruised ribs or possibly broken ones. It draws my attention away from what's left of my own pain, of the scars from an old addiction. "I'm going to grab the first aid kit." I reply uneasily, pulling the long sleeves of my sweatshirt down over my wrists as I stand up.
I head for the bathroom, for the peroxide and Band-Aids that had once been as much a part of my everyday life as food and water. I find an ACE bandage in the back of a drawer and grab a clean washrag before heading back out to the living room. I sit our party supplies on the coffee table and help Jay stand. I desperately try to ignore the shiver that tickles my spine as I lift his shirt up over his head. I can feel the blush creeping up my neck and am thankful he's in too much pain to make a smart-ass remark.
I start wrapping the bandage tightly around his ribs ignoring his protests, and winces, and sharp intakes of breath. "Stop being a baby." I chide as I clip the bandage into place with the little metal hooks.
"You try taking on the entire Bardell football team and see how pretty you look or feel afterwards." He shoots back, slowly sinking into the couch again.
"Who said you weren't pretty?" I tease, picking up the peroxide and draining some out on to the washcloth. I start blotting at his battered face blowing air on each cut to stop the sting.
"Awe, Red, you think I'm pretty?" he teases back, pulling away a little as peroxide pours into an open wound.
"No, I think you're stupid for taking on the Bardell football team over what, a stupid blonde in a short skirt and a tube top?" I press a little harder on his cut lip proving my point as he pushes my hand away.
"Damn, Nash, take it easy." he cries out, lifting a finger to the cut. "Besides it was two blondes and a brunette. How was I supposed to know they had linebacker boyfriends?"
I roll my eyes as I finish cleaning up the blood, placing a small Band-Aid over the cut above his eye. "Sometimes I think you just enjoy the pain." I reply getting up and walking the short distance to the kitchen.
I hear Jay groan as he kicks off his shoes and lies down on the couch. I dig through the freezer pulling out the bag of peas that have been in there since I moved in, probably longer, before heading back into the living room. I sit the bag on his eye and gently sit down beside him trying not to jar or touch his ribs.
He reaches over taking my hand in his, pushing the sleeve of my sweatshirt up a little as his finger slips in between the rubber bands tracing over the faint scars. "Seems like I'm not the only one." he adds, the corner of his eyebrow arching up, lifting the bandage with it.
A hangnail pokes my skin reminding me of sharp metal and sweet release, of an easy way out. I nod, "The physical kind is so much easier to deal with."
I look up into his face still darkening with bruises as words form my mother's old romance novels float back to me. Ruggedly handsome, it definitely described Jay in that rebel without a cause sense and I wonder why I never noticed it before.
"Have you heard from him?" Jay's voice breaks through, drawing me back to the present.
I shake my head no as I lock on to his blue eye, the one not covered with a bag of frozen peas. "You?" I ask even though I already know the answer. If he'd heard from Sean he wouldn't be on my couch right now. If he'd heard from Sean he wouldn't be self destructing the way he was.
"Nah, you know I'm sure he's busy, bonfires on the beach, bikini clad babes, all that stuff." Jay replies, acting like Sean's abandonment wasn't as big of a deal as it really was.
"Probably." I sigh, not really in the mood to talk about Sean. I'd already spent too much time crying over his leaving, too much time wondering if there was something I could have done differently to make him stay.
"Sorry." he apologizes, his finger stilling on my scars but not letting go of my wrist.
I shrug at a loss for words. I mean really what can you say when a guy like Jay apologizes for something he had no control over and actually means it, its just one of those moments that requires a long awkward silence or moment of meditation.
"So...two blondes and a brunette?" I smirk when the moment passes.
He chuckles a little and I can't help but smile because I haven't heard him chuckle, really chuckle, since that day on the beach. The chuckle's followed by a groan as his hand shoots across his mid section and it takes him another minute to catch his breath again.
"You make it sound like a dirty joke." he chokes out with a weak smile. "It wasn't a big deal we were just hanging out."
"And their boyfriends beat the crap out of you because you were just hanging out?" I ask skeptically.
A smile curls up the corners of Jay's lips. "Well…we may not have been entirely dressed while we were hanging out." He adds.
I laugh because admitting that I may be jealous is out of the question. He's Sean's best friend. He just broke up with Alex. It's wrong in so many ways and yet its there, right below the surface and has been for a while.
"You should get some sleep." I insist, rising from my spot on the couch and grabbing the blanket off the back.
"Thank you." he smiles back. The sincerity in his voice tugs at my heart. It's rare that anything sincere comes out of his mouth.
"You're welcome." I reply, spreading the blanket across him and in a moment of weakness I lean over and kiss his forehead.
"What was that for?" he asks when I pull away.
"I don't know." I offer. "I guess just for being here."
"Don't go getting all emotional on me Nash. It's not very becoming of you." he teases, breaking the awkward moment.
I laugh, "Don't get use to it. I'm not one of your Ravine tramps, Hogart. That's the only kiss you'll ever get from me."
"We'll see." He shoots back in that arrogant tone that's makes you want to smack him and kiss him all at the same time.
"Night, Jay." I reply, rolling my eyes as I make my way out of the living room stopping only to turn out the light.
"Night, Red." He calls back as he eases himself into a comfortable position.
I smile as I head back the hallway and into the room I use to share with Sean, every ounce of him gone from every corner of the room. I start to shut the door then stop, leaving it cracked so the sound of Jay's breathing can lull me to sleep.
It's become standard routine since Sean left, the uneasy, confused feelings directed at his best friend. The need to keep him close despite his bad habits and obnoxious personality. The urge to lean over and kiss him just to shut him up. I'd never considered myself a routine person but I was definitely not hating this one.