When everyone else had gone, Mark, Roger, and Randy cleaned the basement in stony silence. Roger was obviously still infuriated. Mark seemed to bear up reasonable well (Roger had ignored him for two days when he found out he had a crush on her in the first place.), but Randy couldn't help but fidget every so often. Roger had never been so mad as to completely tune her out.
Finally, she couldn't stand it anymore. She turned to Roger and tried to explain. "Roger-"
He cut her off with a simple, two-worded question. "How long?"
"Excuse me?"
"How long have you guys been dating behind my back?"
"Just since before the party. I would have told you, but I didn't want you to get mad and-"
"Didn't want me to get mad?" Roger's voice raised a little, "And what exactly do you call this?"
She thought for a moment and answered hopefully. "A flaw in the design?"
Roger, as hard as he tried not to, let out a small laugh. That small laugh turned into a larger laugh, and soon he couldn't contain himself. "Darn you Randy," he joked, "Couldn't you just let me be mad for a little while."
She paused momentarily, mocking deep thought, then replied, "Nope."
"Alright then," he gave her a one-armed hug, "Now, Mark and I will finish up down here. Go on up to bed. She nodded, hugging him back, gave Mark a quick peck on the cheek, and dashed up the stairs to her room.
Mark had a feeling Roger only sent her away so he could confront him, but he just busied himself picking up some chips that had been ground into the carpet, so he continued picking up cups.
Eventually, Roger stood up and faced Mark. "Mark," he said, "You know, you've been my best friend for nine years, but if you break my sister's heart, I'll kill you without giving it a second thought."
Mark let out a shaky laugh. "Rog," he giggled, shaking his head, "I'm probably the only guy who wouldn't dream of breaking her heart. How long have I had a crush on her?"
"Two years."
"Right, two years. And never once had I had the same feelings for another girl. Like I said, I'd never even consider breaking her heart."
Roger sighed. "The problem is, I know. You have to understand, Randy is the only one I honestly consider family, and you're the first person she's dated. I'm just-"
"Protective of her?" Mark finished. Roger nodded. "Yeah, I know." They finished cleaning up the basement and went upstairs to Roger's room, where Roger took out his extra sleeping bag and tossed it to Mark. He rolled it out and crawled into it. Roger took off his shirt (A/N- cue sighing girls) and put on a pair of sweat pants. In a matter of minutes, the two were fast asleep.
It couldn't have been more then a couple hours later that they awoke to light streaming through the door. Mr. Davis' silhouette stood out against the artificial light. They both knew what was happening. He was drunk and mad. He stepped around Mark and dragged Roger by his shoulders out into the hallway. He practically threw him down the stairs, resulting in a loud crash. (Mark was shocked that Roger didn't react. The fall must have hurt.)
Randy awoke with a start. Something had crashed down the stairs, and she had a sickening feeling it was her brother. She leaped from the bed and rushed to the door. Her feelings were confirmed as she saw Mark's fearful face gazing over the railing. Wondering what exactly was happening, she crossed to where Mark was standing and watched helplessly as her father beat Roger.
The whole scene couldn't have been more than five minutes. As if nothing had happened, Mr. Davis staggered down to the basement. Roger watched him go, but didn't dare get up until he was sure his father wasn't coming back. He got up unsteadily and limped up the stairs. "Randy?" he looked at her. She nodded and rushed back into her room.
There was obviously something going on Mark wasn't getting. Why did Randy run back to her room? He helped Roger back into his room, but Roger insisted he keep the door open for a minute. "She'll be back," he explained.
Sure enough, Randy was back in a matter of minutes, clutching a white case. Mark stared at it and then back up at her.
"First aid kit?" he asked.
"When you live like we do, you pick up a few things. It never hurts to have one of these lying around." She kneeled down next to Roger's bed. "Where does it hurt?"
"My back mainly, but my ankle too," he grunted in reply. Randy nodded, her mind obviously moving at a rapid pace. She urged him to roll onto his stomach and took into account the heavy bruising on his back. Then, she checked his ankle.
After thinking awhile longer, she said, "Well, my unofficial diagnosis would be that you need to get your back checked by a real doctor Rog. It doesn't look like there are any severe injuries, but I wouldn't rule out internal bleeding." She turned to Mark. "He threw him down the stairs didn't he?" she asked. He nodded, and she joined in the nodding. "Alright then. As for you're ankle, I'd say it's sprained. Not too bad, but you should keep off it for the weekend… at least."
"If I can, I will," Roger agreed. "You can go to bed now. I'll be okay." Randy looked hesitant, but she did as she was told. "You too," he said to Mark after she was gone, "I'm fine. Go to bed." Mark also hesitated for a moment, but he turned off the light and slid into his sleeping bag, drifting off into a light and troubled sleep after awhile.
