AN: Ugh. School.
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[18] Distrust
13 March, 11:15 PM
37. Jeff
He starts getting concerned about ten minutes after he arrives. Lea has always been here before him and that he's here so long before her is worrying. Something is wrong.
Jeff never shows up to these meetings completely sober, and now the cloud of alcohol is beginning to clear fast. He's worried that he'll lose it as Lea shows up.
Lea steps out of the shadows. As soon as she sees Jeff she relaxes. The relief on her face is obvious.
"Hello," Jeff says.
"Hey," She steps over and takes her place on the rock nearby.
He's picking up on a weird vibe. Exactly what it is when doesn't know, but he doesn't ask her about it, not yet. He needs to stay in control, and anything could set him off right now.
Lea is as good at reading him as he is her. "What's wrong?" she asks.
Jeff half-grins, "I'm a little shaky."
She wrinkles her nose a little. It's an expression of confusion. "Let me see."
He sighs: back to normal then. He holds out both arms to her, fingers curled to his palms.
Lea pushes back his sleeves, and Jeff shivers at the touch. Is he sure what he's doing here is the right thing?
The girl frowns when she sees the fresh blood on his skin. She releases her hold on Jeff's wrists and takes off her jacket.
He hasn't noticed before, but it's not her black jacket. It's a light pastel blue, almost gray. It looks almost brand new. For some reason this change disturbs him.
Lea flicks our a pocket knife and cuts a seam on the inside of the jacket. She rips out a square of the lining and uses the cloth to clean the blood off his arms.
"It takes time, doesn't it?" She says, and moves her hand to Jeff's left arm.
He nods. He doesn't feel as close to going mad as he did a few minutes ago.
"You should try drawing on yourself," Lea says suddenly, "that works for me."
"It works. I just lose the markers."
She sighs and steps back, pushing the blood-soaked fabric into her pocket. Jeff pushes the sleeves of his sweatshirt back up.
He glances up at the girl. She's shrugging on her jacket again. What he sees brings him back to the brink of madness.
"What is that on your neck?" He asks. Even to his own ears his voice seems shaky.
Lea flinches, hand going to the purple bruise on her neck. "It's nothing," She says, "just a bruise. I bruise easily."
Jeff frowns; he can see what's wrong now. She's sore. She's moving with that I'm-not-comfortable air of someone who's in pain. He pauses to think about this for a minute, but his head is starting to fill with that uncontrollable noise of voices that are all his own and he can't think. He rests his face in his hands.
"Jeff?" Lea says, her voice suddenly full of fear, "are you alright?"
He feels her rest a hand on his shoulder, and he takes a breath. "Quiet!" He yells, then quieter, "Lea, keep talking."
"Okay," She says, and she launches into a ridiculously detailed description of a class she's taking at the high school.
Jeff listens to her, still breathing hard. He's used this trick before with mixed success, but this time turns out to be a winner. The voices fall silent again, mercifully silent, and Jeff raises his head.
"Thanks," He says.
"No problem," Lea removes her hand from his shoulder.
"Is that class hard for you?"
"It was, but it's getting easier."
"That's good."
"You never made it that far."
"No. I never liked math anyway."
She smiles, "It's not my favorite either."
Jeff relaxes again. It's easy to forget what he's doing here.
"Well," Lea says, "I'm going to go."
He raises his hand automatically, and she presses her soft palm against his rough one. "Next week," He says
"Next week," she repeats. She turns away and heads back down the hill.
Jeff watches her go, and he repeats to himself his own personal mantra. "Just a little longer. Just a little while longer, then I'll give her back."