Crimson High
A/N: I am so very sorry it's taken so long to update. I was on holiday far away from a computer. I am bringing you chapter 9 of this story. Enjoy.
Chapter nine
I awoke early the next morning, disorientated by my unfamiliar surroundings. It was good to be home, and I lay still for a bit, savouring the moments I had. I could hear my brothers moving around downstairs, and the occasional chuckle from an older voice. I figured it was either my dad or Patrick. I heard my phone buzzing on the table next to me, and fumbled for it. It was a text from one of my friends in Chicago. "Teresa," it read. "So good to hear that you're back. Meet S and I for breakfast at O'Malley's. A lot to catch up on. E"
I pulled a face. Erica Flynn had never really been such a good friend of mine; I was friends with her because she was friends with my closest friend Sarah Harrigan. I got up and got dressed into a pair of jeans and t-shirt. As I headed down the stairs, I almost collided with Patrick going the other way. He was holding a piece of toast he looked at me in surprise. "You look in a hurry, Teresa," he said. "Going out somewhere?"
I smiled at him. "I'm meeting with some of my friends for breakfast. You can come if you want."
Patrick's face lit up, and he rushed up the stairs to finish getting ready. I met him out at the car, and we drove out of the driveway into town.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
I pulled to a stop outside O'Malley's and got out. Patrick followed me inside the crowded restaurant. The tables were filled with people starting their day, and I had to work hard to get through them. I spotted Erica sitting in the corner with Sarah and headed over to them. Sarah smiled when she spotted me and stood up. "Teresa," she said, giving me a hug. "It's been so long. It's so nice to see you."
"It's good to see you too," I said, returning the hug.
I greeted Erica with a hug, and then turned to Patrick. "I'd like you to meet a good friend of mine. Erica, Sarah, this is Patrick Jane."
Patrick stepped forward a shook hands with both of them in turn. Sarah seemed unfazed by him, but Erica was tongue-tied. I knew that this was a common reaction when first confronted by Jane's looks, especially when you didn't expect them. I had described him to Sarah a few weeks before we flew up to Chicago, so she knew what to expect. Erica was less prepared, and Patrick knew it. I had a suspicion he was turning on the charm for her. "So," said Sarah. "How is California?"
I shrugged. "It's warmer than here, but that's about all that's exciting about it. How have things been up here? Have I missed anything?"
Sarah launched into a tale about life at school, and all the things that had happened. I realised how much I actually missed home, and that I missed a lot of my friends at school. Erica sat quietly, not adding much to the conversation. In a lull in the talking she turned to Patrick. "So," she said. "Where did Teresa find you?" her tone seemed to say, And where can I get one?
Patrick shrugged. "I met Teresa at school, and tried to help her fit in. She has some great friends down there, and I know she has some great ones up here too."
He was avoiding talking about himself, but Erica ignored that and pressed for more. "What do you think of school down in California?"
Patrick shrugged. "It's school. Just in a different state. The situation is the same though."
Erica smiled. "You don't think it could be different in a place like that?"
"A place like what?" Patrick was confused.
I sensed the conversation growing awkward, and so I stood up. Sarah followed me outside, but Erica stayed seated. Patrick sat with her. Outside, Sarah turned to me. "He's a dish, isn't he?"
I could feel myself blush. "He used to be a popular guy at school," I mumbled to her. "But he just walked away from it one day. He started hanging with me and my group of friends."
Sarah looked confused. "I remember you telling me something about a person putting things into your locker at school; notes and stuff. Was that him?"
I nodded. "I don't know why he does it, but he buys me stuff and he seems to care about me."
"Well," said Sarah. "Let's go back inside, and rescue him from the clutches of Erica Flynn."
I laughed, and headed back inside.
Patrick was telling Erica a story – of which he had many – about life in the carnival. He was holding a coin, and, as he spoke, he made the coin disappear and reappear. Erica was so enthralled that she didn't even notice us return to the table. We all sat for another hour or so, chatting and being entertained by the great Patrick Jane. Soon, we got up to leave. "This was nice," I said to both of them. "We must do it again."
Patrick and I headed back to my house, and he sat silently in the car. "Missing the company of Erica?" I jibed playfully.
He smiled. "She seems relatively sweet, but reminds me a lot of Lorelei, which is why I'm not missing her too much."
"Lorelei?" I asked, confused.
He waved his hands about. "High maintenance. I prefer someone who doesn't need me to take care of them."
I remember Erica's enthralled expression, and a statement by Patrick a little while ago came to mind. My dad used me as a sideshow, and taught me cold-reading, hypnosis. I turned to him in shock. "You hypnotised her?"
He laughed. "It was the only way to get her to leave me alone. She should have no harmful side effects. If anything, she'll be less needy."
I chuckled, and we drove back home in relative silence.
XxxxxxxxxxxX
Several days passed, but my dad stayed off the drink. I had fun visiting places with my brothers, and knew I had really missed them. Tommy grew very attached to Patrick, and followed him everywhere. My other two brothers warmed up to him too, and soon he was one of them. A full week after we had arrived, Patrick and I were sitting with my brothers in the living room, watching a movie. Patrick had his arm around me, but my brothers took no notice. Halfway through the movie, I felt a feather-light kiss on my temple, and blushed. But my worries about my father weren't far. He had gone out with some friends of his, but it was late, and my dad wasn't home yet. I knew what this meant, and James knew too. The five of us sat watching, and I grew worried. My father was a volatile man, and having Patrick there when this happened was not something I wanted. At the end of the movie, I sent Tommy and Michael off to bed. James went to the window as a car pulled up, and watched something through the window. He turned to me, and his face looked absolutely terrified. "Go up to your room," I said. "Now."
He nodded, not needing to be told twice. Patrick turned to me, and I sighed. "Is it bad?" he asked.
I nodded. "Dad's back from the pub. He's been drinking again. I don't want you to see this…"
He shook his head. "You're not sending me off to my room, Teresa. I want to protect you because I care a lot about you."
The front door opened, and I stood up. Patrick stood with me. He bent down and pressed his lips to mine. I was surprised, but he held it for a second before pulling away. "You need to deal with your father. He can't go on like this."
I nodded, dazed. I turned away as the front door slammed, and steeled myself for the fight. "TERESA!" my dad sounded angry, and he was slurring his words. "TERESA!"
Patrick stepped back, putting the sofa between him and the door. My dad stumbled into the room. "Dad, you're drunk. You said you wouldn't…"
He waved my comment off with his hand. "I know what this looks like, but it was only one drink. Bob took me out…"
He spotted Patrick, and scowled. "What is that doing here? I thought we got rid of him."
I frowned. "Dad, Patrick is our guest."
"I DON'T CARE!" yelled my dad. "HE IS A BAD INFLUENCE AND I WANT HIM OUT!"
Patrick stepped back, and my dad scowled again. "Mr Lisbon," said Patrick. "Maybe you'd better lie down…"
"Teresa," my dad turned to me. "You bring this boy into my house, and let him stay one week, and now he thinks he owns the place. Boy, you are in my house, and you can't tell me what I can and can't do in my house. NOW, GET OUT!"
He picked up the TV controller and threw it at Patrick. Patrick dropped down behind the sofa as the controller went wide and smashed into a picture of my mother on the wall. My dad, satisfied that Patrick was 'gone', turned to me. "Dad," I said, holding up my hands and backing away. "Dad, you don't want to do this. Please just relax and sit down."
"Don't you tell me what to do in my house." My dad lurched forward. "You buggered off for eight months, had fun down in California, and left me and the boys to fend for ourselves. You can't come back and start telling me what to do again. That's not how it works around here."
"Dad," I said, taking another step back. "You can't say that I did nothing. I was working to support this family, because they needed the money…"
My dad wouldn't listen; he lurched forward and swung his fist wildly at me. I ducked as his blow went over my head. I watched Patrick stand up out of the corner of my eye, and ducked as a second fist headed towards me. I was now against the wall, and could back up no further. Patrick yelled my name as a last blow headed in my direction.
A/N2: I hope you enjoyed this. Please review and tell me what you think of it. Thanks.