Panting, Roger rushed out of the apartment, nearly stumbling down the
steps, and ran crazily down the sidewalk until he turned into an alley and
leaned against the wall, panting heavily. Only then the reality of what had
just happened hit him.
He'd gotten angry.
He'd yelled. They'd both yelled.
He pushed her. She fell.
She would be fine. She only hit her head.
But what if she wasn't? Roger thought, miserably. He hadn't stayed long enough to see if she was okay.
"Fuck," he shouted to no one in particular, slamming his fist into the wall. His knuckles stung, and he put them to his mouth, tasting a few faint drops of blood.
"What the hell am I going to do?" he asked aloud, grimacing in pain from his swollen hand.
He couldn't turn to Maureen. She would kick his ass the moment after he explained to her what happened.
He couldn't turn to Mark. Mark was having problems of his own with Jan. Plus, he was pretty annoyed with Roger anyway. And once he saw what Roger had done, he'd be even more so.
Collins? Roger considered going to see his more understanding friend. Collins WAS considerably understanding when it came to coming to him with problems.
And Roger had a lot of problems right now.
Sighing, he turned back towards the direction of his building, hoping Collins would understand.
***
"Did someone just come in?" Isabella called from the kitchen, after Roger had slammed the door behind him.
Daisha, who had watched him rush out of the apartment from the living room, frowned, confused. "No. Roger just left."
"He left?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"I don't know," Daisha admitted. She got up from the couch, and flicked off the TV, which was almost ready to send to the junkyard anyway.
Cautiously, she came up to the door of the bedroom and knocked gently.
"Mimi?" she called. "Are you alright?"
There was no answer.
"Did you and Roger have a fight?"
Still nothing.
"Mimi, please?" Daisha pleaded.
Finally, not satisfied with the silent treatment she was receiving, Daisha slowly opened the door, and stepped inside. Her eyes lingered on the bed, and slowly drifted toward the other side of the room, where Mimi lay crumpled on the floor, her eyes closed.
"MIMI!" Daisha yelped, rushing over to her. Not quite knowing what to do, she shook her sister's shoulder roughly, hoping to wake her up. When she got no reaction, she yelled for Isabella.
"What is it?" Isabella asked as she walked into the room. She stopped when she saw Mimi, her mouth dropped open in shock. "Oh my God . . ."
"She's dead," Daisha moaned, trying to shake Mimi awake.
"She's not dead," Isabella snapped, as she knelt down beside Mimi. She took her wrist and felt for a pulse. She found one, and it was strong and steady.
"She's just unconscious," Isabella said softly, pushing a stray curl from Mimi's face.
"Did she fall?" Daisha asked, quietly.
"I don't know." She paused for a moment. "Daisha, get Mark."
Daisha hopped up and ran into Mark's room, and then quickly returned with him.
"What the hell happened?" he exclaimed, as he rushed into the room.
Isabella shook her head, cradling Mimi's head in her lap. "We don't know."
"Roger rushed out of the apartment, and I figured they'd had a fight, so I came in here and found her," Daisha said, her voice more of a squeak from nervousness.
"Here," Mark said gently, sliding his arms underneath Mimi as he lifted her off the ground. Her head dangled, and her brunette curls fell away from her face.
"Support her head!" Isabella snapped.
"Sorry," Mark said, quickly.
The three of them walked into the living room, where he laid her down gently on the couch.
"What do we do?" Daisha asked, as Mark slid a pillow underneath her head.
"I don't know. Wait until she wakes up, I guess. I'm not really much of a doctor."
"What if she doesn't wake up?"
"Daisha, SHUT UP!" Isabella barked at her. "She's fine, she'll be fine." She hoped it was true.
"But what if she's not?" Daisha asked, a lump in her throat.
"She will be," Isabella repeated.
"But you don't know that. You're not a doctor."
"She WILL," Isabella insisted.
Mark, who wasn't paying any attention to the two of them, suddenly saw Mimi leg twitch, and her eyelids fluttered.
"I think she's waking up," he whispered, silencing the two of them.
Mimi's eyes open slowly, and she gazed up at the three of them, groggily.
"Hi," she said, flatly, surprised to see three heads hovering over her.
"Mimi, what happened?" Isabella asked, relieved that she was awake. "Did you fall?"
"I'm alright," she groaned, struggling to pull herself up to a sitting position. She grimaced as her head began to throb, and she lay back down, moaning.
"Do you remember if you hit your head?" Mark asked her. "You might have a concussion."
"I think so," Mimi said, quietly, feeling the back of her head with her hand.
"What happened?" Isabella asked, softly, taking her hand in hers and patting it lightly.
"We . . . Roger and I . . . we had a fight."
"Is that why he rushed out?" Daisha asked.
Mimi shrugged, and then slowly nodded.
"But how did you fall down?" Daisha asked, impatiently.
Mimi looked stuck. "After he left . . . I tripped and hit my head," she said, lamely. It was the best excuse she could think of at the moment.
"Did he push you?" Mark said, softly.
Mimi's head shot up. "What?" she snapped.
"Did he push you?" Mark repeated.
"No, OF COURSE he didn't push me!" Mimi said, a little too quickly. "Look, I'm fine." Shakily, she gripped the arm of the couch and pushed herself to a standing position. Her knees weakened and began to tremble, and Mark grabbed her arm and pulled her back down to the couch so she wouldn't fall down again.
"Honey, if you hit your head, you should just rest a while," Isabella said, softly.
"She's right," Mark agreed. "Isabella, could you go downstairs and ask Collins for an icepack? We've run fresh out here."
"Alright," Isabella said, standing to her feet. "Daish, come with me."
Daisha got up and followed Isabella out the door.
Once they were gone, Mark turned back to Mimi. "What really happened?" he asked, gently.
Mimi sighed, and let out a slow, shaky breath. "You know how you told him about Jan being April's sister, right?" she asked him.
Mark nodded.
"Well, I knew something was bothering, and I got it out of him. And well, we just started to argue," she said, a lump forming in her throat.
Mark nodded again. "I heard you two yelling."
"Sorry," Mimi said, quietly.
"It's fine," Mark said. "Go on."
"I said something that rubbed Roger the wrong way . . . and he pushed me away. He didn't mean for me to get hurt," she said quickly, desperate to cover up for Roger.
Mark sighed. "I was afraid he'd do something crazy."
"He didn't mean it, Mark," Mimi said, weakly. She bit her lip, concentrating on not crying. "So he left?"
"Apparently. Daisha said he ran out."
"He didn't check to see if I was alright," Mimi said softly, hot tears forming under her eyelids.
"It's alright, Mimi," Mark said, trying to soothe her. He hugged her, awkwardly. Mimi pressed her face against his shoulder, crying quietly.
After a while, she pulled away, wiping her swollen red eyes on her sleeve. "I got your shirt wet," she said, lamely. "Sorry."
"It'll dry," Mark said.
Mimi sniffled, new tears replacing the old ones. "Sorry, Mark," she said, trying to smile through her tears.
Mark nodded. "It's alright."
He glanced at the clock. "Isabella and Daisha should be back by now."
"They'll be back," Mimi said, softly.
"I know."
They both sat in an awkward silence, and they waited.
***
"Hey, Roger, you didn't tell me you were coming over!" Collins greeted Roger as he opened the door.
A small white terrier came bounding out of nowhere, yapping furiously at Roger's heels.
"What the hell is that?" he exclaimed, trying to push it away with his foot.
"THAT is Pepper," Frankie said, stepping into the room. She scooped the dog into her arms, cooing to it softly.
"That was quick," Roger said, glancing at the dog. "It looks more like you than it does Frankie, Collins."
Collins laughed, as he closed the door behind him. "Since we decided Frankie's moving in, she brought Pepper in with her. We're waiting for her furniture to get here."
"I'm happy for you, Collins," Roger said softly, as Frankie stepped out of the room, Pepper bundled up in her arms.
"Thanks," Collins said, smiling. "So, what brings you here?"
"I figured you were the only one who I'd be able to talk to."
"Talk to?"
"I sort of fucked things up with Mark and Mimi upstairs."
"How do you mean?"
Sighing, Roger told Collins what had happened.
Collins's eyes widened. "You didn't check to see if she was okay?"
"My head was too fucked up, I couldn't think," Roger said, lamely.
Collins sighed. "Well, let's get up there and make sure, okay?"
"Alright," Roger said in a small voice, afraid of facing the others. And especially Mimi. God, he hoped she was okay. He chewed his lip nervously, a habit he'd caught from Mimi.
"Collins? You in there?" Isabella's voice was yelling from the other side of the door. "Mimi's hurt! We need an icepack! Open the door!"
Collins gave Roger a quizzical look. "Company?"
Roger didn't answer.
Collins opened the door, revealing a breathless Isabella and Daisha.
"Collins, we need to borrow an icepack or something from you, I think Mimi has a concussion, she and Roger . . ." her voice trailed off as she saw Roger standing next to Collins.
"Oh," she said, flatly. "Speak of the devil."
a/n: Mari- We need to start our duet! I've got the dried rice and the olives and the condoms! -Coming in chapters to come- Mimi and Isabella help Daisha with her driving skills, the art gallery . . . and what DID happen to Joel, anyway? Hmmm.
He'd gotten angry.
He'd yelled. They'd both yelled.
He pushed her. She fell.
She would be fine. She only hit her head.
But what if she wasn't? Roger thought, miserably. He hadn't stayed long enough to see if she was okay.
"Fuck," he shouted to no one in particular, slamming his fist into the wall. His knuckles stung, and he put them to his mouth, tasting a few faint drops of blood.
"What the hell am I going to do?" he asked aloud, grimacing in pain from his swollen hand.
He couldn't turn to Maureen. She would kick his ass the moment after he explained to her what happened.
He couldn't turn to Mark. Mark was having problems of his own with Jan. Plus, he was pretty annoyed with Roger anyway. And once he saw what Roger had done, he'd be even more so.
Collins? Roger considered going to see his more understanding friend. Collins WAS considerably understanding when it came to coming to him with problems.
And Roger had a lot of problems right now.
Sighing, he turned back towards the direction of his building, hoping Collins would understand.
***
"Did someone just come in?" Isabella called from the kitchen, after Roger had slammed the door behind him.
Daisha, who had watched him rush out of the apartment from the living room, frowned, confused. "No. Roger just left."
"He left?"
"Yeah."
"Why?"
"I don't know," Daisha admitted. She got up from the couch, and flicked off the TV, which was almost ready to send to the junkyard anyway.
Cautiously, she came up to the door of the bedroom and knocked gently.
"Mimi?" she called. "Are you alright?"
There was no answer.
"Did you and Roger have a fight?"
Still nothing.
"Mimi, please?" Daisha pleaded.
Finally, not satisfied with the silent treatment she was receiving, Daisha slowly opened the door, and stepped inside. Her eyes lingered on the bed, and slowly drifted toward the other side of the room, where Mimi lay crumpled on the floor, her eyes closed.
"MIMI!" Daisha yelped, rushing over to her. Not quite knowing what to do, she shook her sister's shoulder roughly, hoping to wake her up. When she got no reaction, she yelled for Isabella.
"What is it?" Isabella asked as she walked into the room. She stopped when she saw Mimi, her mouth dropped open in shock. "Oh my God . . ."
"She's dead," Daisha moaned, trying to shake Mimi awake.
"She's not dead," Isabella snapped, as she knelt down beside Mimi. She took her wrist and felt for a pulse. She found one, and it was strong and steady.
"She's just unconscious," Isabella said softly, pushing a stray curl from Mimi's face.
"Did she fall?" Daisha asked, quietly.
"I don't know." She paused for a moment. "Daisha, get Mark."
Daisha hopped up and ran into Mark's room, and then quickly returned with him.
"What the hell happened?" he exclaimed, as he rushed into the room.
Isabella shook her head, cradling Mimi's head in her lap. "We don't know."
"Roger rushed out of the apartment, and I figured they'd had a fight, so I came in here and found her," Daisha said, her voice more of a squeak from nervousness.
"Here," Mark said gently, sliding his arms underneath Mimi as he lifted her off the ground. Her head dangled, and her brunette curls fell away from her face.
"Support her head!" Isabella snapped.
"Sorry," Mark said, quickly.
The three of them walked into the living room, where he laid her down gently on the couch.
"What do we do?" Daisha asked, as Mark slid a pillow underneath her head.
"I don't know. Wait until she wakes up, I guess. I'm not really much of a doctor."
"What if she doesn't wake up?"
"Daisha, SHUT UP!" Isabella barked at her. "She's fine, she'll be fine." She hoped it was true.
"But what if she's not?" Daisha asked, a lump in her throat.
"She will be," Isabella repeated.
"But you don't know that. You're not a doctor."
"She WILL," Isabella insisted.
Mark, who wasn't paying any attention to the two of them, suddenly saw Mimi leg twitch, and her eyelids fluttered.
"I think she's waking up," he whispered, silencing the two of them.
Mimi's eyes open slowly, and she gazed up at the three of them, groggily.
"Hi," she said, flatly, surprised to see three heads hovering over her.
"Mimi, what happened?" Isabella asked, relieved that she was awake. "Did you fall?"
"I'm alright," she groaned, struggling to pull herself up to a sitting position. She grimaced as her head began to throb, and she lay back down, moaning.
"Do you remember if you hit your head?" Mark asked her. "You might have a concussion."
"I think so," Mimi said, quietly, feeling the back of her head with her hand.
"What happened?" Isabella asked, softly, taking her hand in hers and patting it lightly.
"We . . . Roger and I . . . we had a fight."
"Is that why he rushed out?" Daisha asked.
Mimi shrugged, and then slowly nodded.
"But how did you fall down?" Daisha asked, impatiently.
Mimi looked stuck. "After he left . . . I tripped and hit my head," she said, lamely. It was the best excuse she could think of at the moment.
"Did he push you?" Mark said, softly.
Mimi's head shot up. "What?" she snapped.
"Did he push you?" Mark repeated.
"No, OF COURSE he didn't push me!" Mimi said, a little too quickly. "Look, I'm fine." Shakily, she gripped the arm of the couch and pushed herself to a standing position. Her knees weakened and began to tremble, and Mark grabbed her arm and pulled her back down to the couch so she wouldn't fall down again.
"Honey, if you hit your head, you should just rest a while," Isabella said, softly.
"She's right," Mark agreed. "Isabella, could you go downstairs and ask Collins for an icepack? We've run fresh out here."
"Alright," Isabella said, standing to her feet. "Daish, come with me."
Daisha got up and followed Isabella out the door.
Once they were gone, Mark turned back to Mimi. "What really happened?" he asked, gently.
Mimi sighed, and let out a slow, shaky breath. "You know how you told him about Jan being April's sister, right?" she asked him.
Mark nodded.
"Well, I knew something was bothering, and I got it out of him. And well, we just started to argue," she said, a lump forming in her throat.
Mark nodded again. "I heard you two yelling."
"Sorry," Mimi said, quietly.
"It's fine," Mark said. "Go on."
"I said something that rubbed Roger the wrong way . . . and he pushed me away. He didn't mean for me to get hurt," she said quickly, desperate to cover up for Roger.
Mark sighed. "I was afraid he'd do something crazy."
"He didn't mean it, Mark," Mimi said, weakly. She bit her lip, concentrating on not crying. "So he left?"
"Apparently. Daisha said he ran out."
"He didn't check to see if I was alright," Mimi said softly, hot tears forming under her eyelids.
"It's alright, Mimi," Mark said, trying to soothe her. He hugged her, awkwardly. Mimi pressed her face against his shoulder, crying quietly.
After a while, she pulled away, wiping her swollen red eyes on her sleeve. "I got your shirt wet," she said, lamely. "Sorry."
"It'll dry," Mark said.
Mimi sniffled, new tears replacing the old ones. "Sorry, Mark," she said, trying to smile through her tears.
Mark nodded. "It's alright."
He glanced at the clock. "Isabella and Daisha should be back by now."
"They'll be back," Mimi said, softly.
"I know."
They both sat in an awkward silence, and they waited.
***
"Hey, Roger, you didn't tell me you were coming over!" Collins greeted Roger as he opened the door.
A small white terrier came bounding out of nowhere, yapping furiously at Roger's heels.
"What the hell is that?" he exclaimed, trying to push it away with his foot.
"THAT is Pepper," Frankie said, stepping into the room. She scooped the dog into her arms, cooing to it softly.
"That was quick," Roger said, glancing at the dog. "It looks more like you than it does Frankie, Collins."
Collins laughed, as he closed the door behind him. "Since we decided Frankie's moving in, she brought Pepper in with her. We're waiting for her furniture to get here."
"I'm happy for you, Collins," Roger said softly, as Frankie stepped out of the room, Pepper bundled up in her arms.
"Thanks," Collins said, smiling. "So, what brings you here?"
"I figured you were the only one who I'd be able to talk to."
"Talk to?"
"I sort of fucked things up with Mark and Mimi upstairs."
"How do you mean?"
Sighing, Roger told Collins what had happened.
Collins's eyes widened. "You didn't check to see if she was okay?"
"My head was too fucked up, I couldn't think," Roger said, lamely.
Collins sighed. "Well, let's get up there and make sure, okay?"
"Alright," Roger said in a small voice, afraid of facing the others. And especially Mimi. God, he hoped she was okay. He chewed his lip nervously, a habit he'd caught from Mimi.
"Collins? You in there?" Isabella's voice was yelling from the other side of the door. "Mimi's hurt! We need an icepack! Open the door!"
Collins gave Roger a quizzical look. "Company?"
Roger didn't answer.
Collins opened the door, revealing a breathless Isabella and Daisha.
"Collins, we need to borrow an icepack or something from you, I think Mimi has a concussion, she and Roger . . ." her voice trailed off as she saw Roger standing next to Collins.
"Oh," she said, flatly. "Speak of the devil."
a/n: Mari- We need to start our duet! I've got the dried rice and the olives and the condoms! -Coming in chapters to come- Mimi and Isabella help Daisha with her driving skills, the art gallery . . . and what DID happen to Joel, anyway? Hmmm.