Bianca's POV
"Fuck your explanation," Drew says, not wanting to hear it, "I think I can figure out when my brother is stabbing me in the back."
"That's not exactly how this happened," I say, trying to step in and diffuse the situation.
"Shut up," Drew says to me. I narrow my eyes at him, under different circumstances I would sass him back.
"Watch it," Adam says, stepping away from me and closer to Drew.
"Oh so now you're going to defend your fuck buddy," Drew says harshly, "Oh wait, you can't be fucking her because you don't have what it takes." Low blow. I look to Adam to see how he's going to respond, I kind of see a pained look on his face. Out of all the things Drew could attack him on, he goes there. Of course, typical douche bag Drew. I don't want Adam to take that personally, I wish he knew I didn't care about what's under his clothes. I love Adam for Adam.
All of a sudden I see Adam's fist connecting perfectly with Drew's jaw, causing him to stagger backwards. Everyone seems to freeze, totally shocked by Adam's actions. Clearly Adam is not going to tolerate those kind of insults from Drew.
Drew manages to recover quickly and says, "You hit like a girl." Drew quickly closes the gap between them, lunging toward Adam. Adam has hardly any time to react before Drew tackles him and takes both of them to the ground.
"Stop it!" I shout, wanting so desperately to stop this before it gets even worse.
Neither of them stop though. Adam rolls over and lands some punches toward Drew's face. Drew's hands move to cover his head, but Adam's still laying punches. Drew manages to hit Adam in the stomach, giving him the upper hand as Adam cringes in pain. He pushes Adam off of him and they're both quickly on their feet again.
Katie, someone I think we all forgot was even here, speaks up, "Boys! Stop it right now!" Katie grabs onto Drew, trying to prevent him from fighting and I follow her lead by latching onto Adam.
The fight seems to be over. And I think it has to do more with the fact that they both look like they're in pain. Drew has a busted lip and a few other cuts under his left cheek. He definitely looks beat up. I look at Adam, his face doesn't look too bad in comparison, no real bleeding or anything coming from his face. Drew still looks angry, but I think even he realizes that fighting his brother does nothing to actually solve the problem.
Adam still looks ready to go, like he wants to fight his brother, "That all you got?" Adam taunts. Even though he has a brave face on, he still looks like he's in pain.
"Adam stop," I say, tugging on his arm trying to get him to look at me.
Adam seems to be the only one not wanting to call it quits. Katie has successfully calmed Drew down but Adam is acting like he still has something to prove.
"We're done here," Drew says weakly. As Drew and Katie walk by us to leave, my grip on Adam's arm instinctively gets tighter.
Once they're gone and we're finally alone in the storage room I breathe a huge sigh of relief. That got way out of hand.
I turn my attention toward Adam, "What was that?" I ask angrily, smacking him in the stomach. I see him wince in pain. Just now I remember he took a few body shots during the fight. "Wait, are you okay?" I ask, trying to lift the bottom of his shirt so I can check for damage.
"Fine," he says, smacking away my hand. He slowly makes his way over to the couch and kind of collapses onto it.
"You're not fine," I say worriedly. I move to take a seat next to him. "Let me see," I say, again trying to lift up his shirt.
Again he stops me, "No."
"Adam, seriously, stop being a baby," I say, once again trying to see how hurt he is.
"You don't get it," he mumbles.
"Then explain it to me," I say, having a feeling that we're finally going to have this talk. Something we've needed to do for a while now.
"I can't- I don't- I don't know how to explain it," he says. I knew this would be hard. I just need to let him get this out on his own pace and I need to let him know that I'm okay with whatever he's okay with.
"Try," I say gently, "For me."
He looks pained, and I don't know whether that's from the injury he won't let me see or if it's because of the conversation. "I'm not comfortable with who I am, physically," he says, "I can't be with you like I want to be." I think I get why he was so mad earlier, Drew must have struck a nerve with Adam.
"It's okay, we don't have to do anything you don't want to do," I say.
"It's not that I don't want to, I just can't," he explains.
"Adam," I say, gently resting my hand on his stomach over his shirt, "I want to be with you in any and every way possible, regardless of the physical differences." I don't know if that's what he wants to hear, his face is hard to read. He's kind of just gazing past me.
"I want to be with you too," is what he finally says. I feel relief overcome me, that was potentially going to be the toughest talk we'd ever have and it went remarkably well.
"We'll take it one step at a time," I say, leaning my head against his shoulder. I relax into him and this seems to calm him down. Occasionally I hear his breath hitch, probably trying to cope with the pain from the injury. I try one last time to look at his injury. I move my hand to the hem of his shirt and ask, "Can I?"
Adam just nods in response.
I gently slide his shirt up, stopping just below his chest. There's a huge bruise on the left side of his stomach, it looks like it should hurt a lot more than he's letting on. I look up at Adam, he looks a little self-conscious and he has his eyes closed.
…..
Adam's POV
I don't need to see what's going on to feel Bianca's hand lift my shirt, or feel her eyes tracing the wound, I just want to be oblivious to her reaction. She says she's cool with it, but I won't ever really know what she's cool with. She might think she's okay with everything but maybe she'll change her mind.
All of a sudden I feel Bianca place a soft kiss right over the bruise, "There, all better," she says, pulling my shirt back down to cover the bruise. I finally open my eyes and meeting my gaze is Bianca's beautiful brown eyes.
I open my mouth to tell her those three words I still haven't told her, but the words won't form. I can't bring myself to tell her that I love her, even though I definitely do. It's like once I say the words I'll be completely vulnerable. And part of me still can't comprehend why a girl like her would be with me.
Instead, she breaks our gazing by leaning in to kiss me. It's soft and brief, before my lips even really react she's pulling away. "We should probably get you out of here," she says.
"Yeah okay," I agree. But where will I go? Chances are Katie took Drew home. I can't be in the same house with him right now. I slowly get up from the couch. I'm trying to control my breathing but the pain hurts way more when I move.
Bianca notices, "Maybe you should get that checked out," she suggests.
"It's nothing," I say, shaking off her advice.
We slowly make our ways through the halls, luckily they're still pretty empty because lunch is still going. I wonder how pissed off mom is going to be when she founds out I'm ditching class again. Once we get to the car I hand Bianca the keys because I'm not in the best shape to drive.
"I don't want to go home if Drew's there," I say.
"Then I won't take you there," she replies. I decide not to ask where we're going instead, I trust her. It's a relatively quiet but relaxing drive. She pulls up in front of a house I quickly register to be her own. "We can stay here until you decide you want to go home," she says. She gets out of the car and I follow her into the house.
She drops her backpack off in her room before coming back into the living room. I take a seat on the couch and she joins me, cozying up next to me. I carefully raise my arm to put it over her shoulder, trying to avoid any extraneous movements that cause me pain.
"Last time I was here you slammed the door in my face, multiple times," I say recalling the memories. That was before I was able to admit my feelings for her. Back in the confusing stages for us. I can barely remember why she was mad at me, I just remember wanting to make her forgive me.
"But you kept coming back," she says, smiling up at me.
"You're worth pursuing," I say. I briefly pull her closer to plant a kiss on her forehead. Because she's on my bad side, the side with the bruise, I noticeably wince in pain.
For a second she frowns at me, "Will you at least take some pain medicine?" She asks.
I shrug, "If you insist," I say. It's probably going to hurt regardless. She gets up from next to me and disappears down a hallway. I don't think this pain medicine is worth the momentary absence of Bianca.
She reappears with an orange prescription bottle. "Here this will help," she says, taking off the cap and shaking out two pills. She hands them to me and I down them without water.
"What'd I just take?" I ask. I probably should have asked that before I took the pills, but whatever.
"Vicodin," she replies, "It should kick in quickly." Why does she have Vicodin lying around the house? I want to ask, but then again I don't. I don't want my curiosity to get the best of me. There's probably a good explanation of why she has strong pain killers.
"Thanks," I say, tilting my head back against the couch and closing my eyes. I'm trying not to focus on anything, think about anything, feel anything. I have a lot of stuff I'm going to have to deal with when I go home, but for now I just want to relax here with Bianca.
I can feel my head getting lighter and the pain subsiding. I feel much better. No wonder people love this stuff, it's like a wonder drug. Maybe injuries aren't so bad.
I open my eyes at the sound of Bianca's voice, "Come on sleepy head," she coaxes. I blink a couple times and notice that Bianca's in different clothes. I slowly look around and notice that the time reading from a clock says that I've been out for a couple hours.
Bianca is gently tugging on my arm, trying to pull me up from the couch. I reluctantly get up. She doesn't let go of my hand though as she leads me somewhere else. We walk down a hallway and into a bedroom, one I quickly discern to be hers.
"My mom will be home soon, but you can sleep in here," she says.
"Mmkay," I say with a drowsy voice. I kick off my shoes and climb into the bed, which pleasantly smells like Bianca. She pulls the covers over me and gives me a quick kiss before turning to leave. "Wait," I say, reaching for her hand just in time, "stay with me."
Before she answers, I pull the sheets off me and tug her toward the bed. She climbs in and I pull the sheets over the both of us.
"Much better," I say as we cuddle.
…..
Bianca's POV
Only a few minutes go by before I hear my mom come in and Adam's already fast asleep. I carefully wiggle out of his arms and sneak out of the bed.
"Hey mom," I say, greeting her. I'm not usually this nice or welcoming. And I don't usually refer to her as mom either.
I can tell she notices the difference because she's eyeing me carefully, "Hello Bianca," she replies.
"I have a question," I say, "hypothetically, how would I tell if someone has bruised or broken ribs?" I'm only asking because my mom is an on-call nurse and Adam refuses to go to the doctor. Otherwise I wouldn't have brought it up.
"What kind of trouble did you get in?" My mom asks worriedly. She makes her way toward me as if I was the one with the broken ribs.
"It's not me," I say, slightly annoyed that she just assumes, "It's someone else."
"Okay well the best way would be to get an x-ray," she says.
"He doesn't want to go to the doctors," I say. Because he's stubborn like that.
"Well he needs someone qualified to look at him," she says, "How about I examine him instead?" She suggests. I don't know if that's a good idea. I don't know how comfortable Adam would be with this. Maybe I shouldn't have involved my mom at all.
"I don't know," I say, thinking it over. I am worried about Adam. I need to know that his injury isn't serious. My mom really can't hurt anything.
"If he needs medical attention it's better that we know sooner rather than later," she says, trying to convince me, "I mean he could have internal bleeding, fractured ribs, he could pass out from the-"
"Okay, okay," I say, cutting her off before she gets even more descriptive, "please check to see if he's going to be okay."
"Where is he?" She asks.
"He's in my room," I say, leading the way. Although I'm not looking, I guarantee she is rolling her eyes.
When we get there, he's exactly where I left him. Completely passed out. I don't know if I should wake him for this or just let my mom look him over while he's passed out.
"Uh should I wake him?" I ask. On the one hand, if he's awake he might refuse my mom's help. But it's kind of intrusive if we do this while he's asleep.
"Yes," she says.
"Adam," I coax, trying to wake him. He stirs but his eyes don't open. "Adam wake up," I say while gently stroking his arm. Finally I see his eyes open. It takes him a second to adjust to the scene.
"What's going on?" He asks groggily.
"My mom wants to take a look at your injury," I answer.
My mom tells Adam, "Just lie still," in a much more gentle voice than she uses with me. Must be the voice she puts on for people when she's on duty. How professional.
Adam lies back down and closes his eyes.
My mom lifts Adam's shirt, probably something I should have done for her because she's going to get a bit of a surprise. Before she even comments on the bruise she looks at me with a confused expression. I can guess what's probably running through her head but I don't really care what she thinks. She turns her attention back to the injury and gently presses three fingers on the bruise. I look to see if Adam's in pain but his face doesn't change, maybe he fell back asleep already. My mom only takes a few more seconds to study the bruise before she pulls down Adam's shirt.
"Let's talk out there," she whispers as she brushes past me in a hurry.
"Okay," I say reluctantly, not really wanting to have this talk with her. I can tell by the way she stared at me, and the way she stared at Adam, that she is not happy.
I follow her out to the living room where she turns on her heel and stares at me, "What was that?" She asks in a judgmental tone.
"Is Adam fine or not?" I ask, ignoring her stupid question.
"Are you dating a girl?" She asks, "What was that wrapped around her chest? And why do you call that girl a he?" All these stupid questions are being thrown my way, something I should have expected when I asked for help, and all I want to know is whether my boyfriend is going to be okay or not.
I state the obvious, "Adam's a boy." I roll my eyes, "Seriously, don't be so narrow-minded."
"Don't delude yourself honey, that person in there is not a boy and I definitely don't want that freak in my house or around my daughter," she says, practically spitting out the words. A long time ago I used similar words in reference to Adam. I was so ignorant and hateful for no reason. Flash forward to now and that guy that I picked on ruthlessly is the same guy I love today. All I had to do was listen to my heart. "Get him," she says, using air quotations around the word 'him', "out of your bed and out of my house. Got it?"
I can feel the anger starting to rise, "You don't know what you're talking about," I say defensively. "If he goes, I go," I threaten.
"Don't be a child," she says, not taking my threat seriously, "Once that freak leaves you can come back here and we can finish this talk."
"First of all, he's not a freak. Don't use that word again. Second of all, if you kick him out I'm leaving too," I say.
"Then both of you go," she says heartlessly, pointing toward the door.
I don't even hesitate. I head toward my room and throw some clothes into a duffle bag. I grab my backpack next to my bed and sling it over my shoulder. Then I move toward Adam to wake him up, "Wake up, we need to go," I whisper. It doesn't take much to wake him this time. He gets up from the bed, thankfully doesn't ask any questions, and follows me out of the room. When we pass through the living room my mom isn't anywhere to be seen, thank god. I grab my car keys from the little table next to the front door and leave the house without looking back.
It's a quiet car ride. Adam hasn't fallen back asleep but he isn't asking questions either. I think he's keenly aware something bad happened though because I catch him glancing at me with sympathetic eyes. I wonder if he heard the argument I had with my mother. I hope not.
For a while we're just aimlessly driving. Partly because I'm trying to cool down from the fight but also because we don't have anywhere to go. Adam can't go home and I can't go home, we're momentarily homeless.
Deciding that we can't drive around forever, I park the car in an empty lot.
…..
Adam's POV
I feel on the inside how I look on the outside, bruised and battered. This has not been the best day for either of us and it's all my fault. I have an unmistakable throbbing pain in my ribs, which is a constant reminder that Drew may never talk to me again. And I know Bianca got in a fight with her mom over me, which I wish I could change or somehow fix.
"Should we talk about what happened?" I ask.
"Probably not," she says. I guess we don't need to talk about it since I already know.
More silence. It's not unbearable silence like one experiences when there's an elephant in the room. It's the kind of silence that means we're both retreating into our thoughts.
I don't know what she's thinking about. Part of me wants to ask. The other part is scared to know. Maybe she's realizing what her mom was saying is true. Maybe she's having second thoughts about me. But that can't be, she was defending me in that argument.
"What are you thinking about?" She asks. I can't help but smile when she reads my mind. I've never been so in sync with a person.
"I was about to ask you the same thing," I say, "I was wondering what you were thinking about."
"What am I thinking about?" She teases.
I wait a minute before answering honestly, "probably about the fight you just had with your mother." I notice a slight frown on her face when I bring it up and she averts eye contact with me. "Don't worry, we don't have to talk about it if you don't want to," I say, trying to ease the tension.
"How much of it did you hear?" She asks, her voice low.
"Just enough to know it was bad," I lie. I actually heard all of it, but the details of the fight are irrelevant. Besides, Bianca probably didn't want me to hear any of it.
"My mom's a bitch," is all she says, crossing her arms.
"So that's where you get it from," I tease.
"Hey!" She says, unfolding her arms to smack me in the stomach. The second her hand connected with my ribs, I could feel immense pain. Her painkillers have definitely wore off. I try not to grimace but I can definitely feel something wrong with me. The pain was worth it, at least I got her to smile for a second.
I expect the pain to dissipate after a few seconds but it doesn't. Bianca notices, "Are you okay?" She asks, placing her hand over mine. "You're hands are freezing," she notes. Usually Bianca's touch soothes me, but right now it is sending pangs through my entire arm. I can only stand it for a second before I feel the need to pull away. My stomach is lurching. I open the side door and bolt out of the car right before my vomit hits the pavement. "Adam!" Bianca cries, opening her car door and rushing toward me.
I look down and notice red stuff in the puke. Is that blood? I feel my whole body getting lighter as I start to sway. My head doesn't feel steady as I collapse onto the pavement. "Adam!" Bianca yells again. I can feel her arms go around me, propping me up, but feel unable to respond to her. Eventually I give in to my body and close my eyes.
A/N: I know it's been awhile. I'm working on it. Technically I had most of this written about a week after I last posted, but then I lost inspiration and only just now picked it up again. Anyways, I tried looking up some medical stuff to make it more legit, but alas this is fiction, so my poor interpretation of what internal bleeding looks like is most likely not accurate. Stay tuned and keep commenting please!