Naomi

He was late. That wasn't so out of the ordinary for him but now that Merle had shown up again, I was worried something bad had happened. Merle always gives me that feeling, like my intestines go cold and tie themselves in a knot, ready to unravel if something went wrong. I waited, holding on to the books that wouldn't fit in my bag so hard my knuckles turned white and stared at Daryl's door.

Eventually, it opened and Daryl stumbled out. He looked more dishevelled than usual and closed the door so quietly behind him that I knew it meant someone in there was still sleeping. He kept his head down, his hair falling over his face. Not enough. I saw the bruise.

"Hey," I said. I reached out and touched his face. I was gentle but he still flinched like I might hurt him. It made my heart heavy. "Let me see."

Reluctantly, he turned his face towards me. I brushed his hair away from the bruise around his eye. "It bad?" he asked.

"You'll live," I said. "Which one of them did it to you?"

"Merle," Daryl admitted, which made sense because Mr Dixon preferred to leave his bruises in places people wouldn't be able to see them. "He didn't mean to, though. He was going for dad and got me by mistake."

I let his hair drop back down to cover it. "You wanna ice it?" I asked. "I have some stuff at mine that might help."

"Nah," he brushed past me and started walking away. "Let's go."

I ran to catch up. He was quieter than usual, which for Daryl is saying something. I often worried that if we weren't friends, he'd never say another word again and his vocal chords would dry out. I wondered where Merle was and if he was still sleeping off the hangover of his arrival. I wondered if Mr Dixon had stayed the night or if his eldest showing up had prompted another bender. Maybe he'd end up in the same place as my Momma. Maybe they were both dead. I glanced at Daryl and wondered if that would be the best thing for him. My house had certainly been a lot more bearable since my Momma had up and left.

"Where were you?" Daryl asked, nudging me out of my thoughts. He nudged a little too hard and I wobbled on the road.

"What?"

"Last night, I came back to the diner and you weren't there," he sounded moody. But a bad mood was always to be expected the day after Merle got back.

"Did you?" I said with a shrug. "Diner emptied out not long after you guys left so we closed up early. I didn't expect you to come back so I didn't wait. I thought you'd want some time with Merle."

He didn't say anything, just stared at his feet as we walked along with a non-committal grunt. I stopped walking, I could feel myself getting angry with him.

"You mad at me, Daryl?"

"No," he said but he kept on walking.

"'Cause if you are, you gotta tell me," I yelled after him. "It ain't fair to be mad me for something I didn't know."

He stopped then but didn't turn around. "I ain't mad at you," he called back. I walked to catch up with him. He waited, looked at me out of his bruised eye. "I just like our walks home."

"Me too," I smiled and we started walking again. "But you deserved some time with Merle, we ain't gotta do it every time I work."

He looked like he disagreed with me but didn't say anything. I knew he was thinking about the long and dark roads between the diner and home and the kind of people that might also be travelling down them. I felt safer with him near - always - but I also knew I could keep myself safe. I knew the best route home, I knew the ways to avoid and I knew to walk close to the light. I carried my keys so that they stuck out between my fingers and knew to go for the eyes of anyone who tried to sneak up on me. I hadn't been tested yet, because Daryl was usually there, but I was sure I'd be able to fight if I had to.

"Sorry," he said eventually. "I ain't mad and I didn't mean to be an ass."

"Just a natural talent then?" I said. He didn't reply but he did smile.

We both slowed down as we reached the school gates, not that we were walking all that fast to start with. I could hear the playground. The unmistakable sound of hundreds of teenagers bitching and laughing about the weekend, talking about the things they did, the parties they had and didn't invited us to. Even with Daryl being later than usual, we were still early. We always left early and walked slow, that was our routine. It gave us time to talk as the sun came up. Daryl looked at me with the same kind of look I imagined inmates on death row look at each other.

It was best to walk in through the back gates, with your head down so that nobody makes eye contact with you. Sometimes that's enough to make them forget that they hate you.

We have most of the same classes but Daryl takes Shop where I have Speech and Debate. He is good with his hands and he gets how things work, it may be his best class. He ain't good at taking the stuff he makes home, though. Maybe he's worried his dad'll break it, maybe he's too much of a perfectionist and winds up hating the things makes. Whatever the reason, he gives a lot of it to me. I have a reading light by my bed, some bookends on a shelf and a birdhouse outside my window all thanks to his final projects.

We meet for lunch. I pull leftovers I'd managed to salvage from the diner the night before out of my bag. "Here's a bonus of not walking home together," I said. "We got lunch today."

Daryl grins. "You didn't eat them already?"

"Nah," I said. "Didn't feel right pigging out alone."

I passed him a burger, I didn't know what kind, I'd just grabbed any two I could before they were thrown out. It was cold and the bun was soggy but Daryl still closed his eyes in appreciation. It made me smile to see him so content with such a terrible burger. That boy could eat anything. I ate my own and didn't even notice how much I wasn't enjoying it. When we were done I pulled out a leftover piece of pie too.

"Shit," he said. "You did good."

"There's only one," I said. "But don't worry, you can have it."

"Nah," he said and stood up. I was shocked, I'd never known Daryl to walk away from free pie before, but then he returned carrying two forks he'd stolen from the kitchens and it became clear. "We share. Like always."

He held one out to me and started digging in with the other. It was infinitely better than the burgers had been.

It wasn't long before we came to regret how much we'd eaten. We had Gym class next and I hadn't run more than two steps before I started feeling queasy. I wasn't great at team sports at the best of times, given that it was rare for anyone else on the team to like me enough to include me, but that day I was particularly bad. Someone passed to me and I don't know if it was the shock of being acknowledged as part of the team or if it was the day-old burger and half a piece of pie sitting in my stomach, but whatever it was made me slow. I caught the ball. I froze.

And then a heavy body slammed into me. And I slammed into the ground.

I felt a sting and tasted metal. I propped myself up on my elbow to wipe the back of my hand across my mouth. Blood. From a wound on my lip I could already feel was starting to throb.A shrill whistle lingered on in the now silent hall as people stopped running to look at our Gym teacher, Mr Ellis.

"Watch where you're going!" Connor loomed over me and yelled.

"Sorry," I mumbled, still touching my lip and trying to assess the damage.

"She had the ball, dickhead!" Daryl's anger took the tension in the room to a whole new level. I sat up properly. He was pacing. I knew that meant he was trying his best not to hit Connor. One more fight and he'd get suspended. I tried to tell him to stop but it was hard to get the words out through my swelling lip. Daryl got right up close to him, pointed in his face. "That was a foul an' you know it."

Mr Ellis was hovering as close to Daryl as he could get, ready to restrain him. But nobody was doing the same to Connor and I could tell by the glint in his eye that Connor was the one who really needed restraining. He was getting exactly what he wanted from the situation. A circle of classmates and teammates alike formed around us.

"Daryl..." I said, a quiet warning. He looked at me.

"It was a foul, Mr Ellis," he said through gritted teeth. "He hurt her on purpose."

"No I didn't," Connor said. "She was in my way."

"Jackass," Daryl shook his head.

Connor turned to everyone else. They were grinning too, willing a fight to break out. "Did anyone else see me "foul" Natalie?" he asked them.

"It's Naomi, dickbrain," Daryl corrected him.

"Naomi Dickbrain," Connor smiled. "Unusual name. That 'cause she's a whore like her mom?"

"Alright that's enough!" Mr Ellis grabbed Daryl just before he lunged for Connor's throat. A few of Connor's friends had to join in, more than there needed to be. I could tell they were enjoying holding him back. Daryl struggled against them. Mr Ellis looked at Connor and said, "Connor, apologize."

"I'm sorry," Connor said, incencerly.

"Alright," Mr Ellis nodded, thinking he was regaining control of his class. "Now, if Connor says it wasn't a foul, and none of the rest of you saw it-"

"I think I'm owed an apology too, Sir," Connor said.

"Look, it was clearly an accident," Mr Ellis said. "And she's not that badly hurt, so-"

"No," Connor said. "Not from her. From him."

Daryl, who had only just stopped struggling, started trying to break free again.

"From… from Daryl?" Mr Ellis said. He sounded worried. He should have been.

"Yes," Connor said. "It was an unprovoked outburst. And I think it would do Daryl some good to apologize so he doesn't end up with the same anger issues as his dumb, hick brother."

Daryl glared at him and stayed resolutely silent.

"Connor, that's enough!" Mr Ellis warned but he was too busy restraining Daryl to do anything about it. It wasn't enough. Connor wasn't done.

"You're gonna end up just like him," Connor said. "Nothing but a trailer trash piece of shit who'll never amount to anything."

Daryl tried to get him, letting out an incoherent roar of fury.

"Connor!" It was all Mr Ellis could manage, he was out of breath from holding Daryl back.

"You'll end up in the cell next to him soon," Connor said. "And when they let you out you'll hit the bottle like your old man. The world would be a much better place if you and your whole cockroach family were-"

Dead.

He was going to say "dead".

But he never did because I got to my feet and punched him in the mouth.

It was a blur. One minute I was on the floor, a hand over my bust up lip. The next, I was on my feet with throbbing knuckles and Connor was the one on the ground. He went down easier than I thought he would. He looked shocked. Everyone did. Everyone, that is, except Daryl, who threw his head back and started to laugh.

Daryl

I waited for her outside detention, I had nowhere else to be and I feel like the least you can do for someone who's in detention for punching another kid in the mouth for you is walk them home. Also, this was the first time she'd been in detention, usually it was me sitting in there and her waiting outside for me to be done getting in trouble for dumb shit. I liked the role reversal. Connor was in there with her, I could see his ratty little face through the window. Mr Ellis hadn't been stupid enough to punish one of them and not the other, I'd only escaped because I hadn't technically punched anyone. I'd just tried to and you don't get in trouble for that. Too much admin.

"Hey," I yelled, at Connor as he came out of the building just before she did. He avoided looking at me. "What's wrong? You got nothing else to say to me you little prick?"

He scurried past me, never as big or as clever on his own as he was with all of his friends cheering him on. I noticed they weren't anywhere to be seen now and there was a bruise forming on his jaw.

Naomi came out next, a scab on her lower lip. She brightened when she saw me. "You waited for me?"

"No actually, I'm waiting for Connor," I said, loudly so that he could hear me. "We're going bowling."

"Shut up you dumb hick," he said, quietly but not quietly enough.

"Hey, what you say?" I called over to him.

"Yeah," Naomi joined in. "What was that?"

He looked away from us both as we laughed. Someone came to pick him up in a shiny car, probably either his Momma or his Dad. We were still laughing as it drove away and I wouldn't have switched places with him for all the fancy cars in the world.

"You ready?" I asked her.

"Yeah," she nodded. "Let's go."

She had an armful of books like always. Too many damn books for her bag.

"You working tonight?" I asked.

"No," she said. "Night off. Thank God."

"How's the hand?" I asked. She shifted her personal library to under one arm and held out her right hand, wiggled her fingers just to test them.

"Hurts a bit," she said. "And I think his teeth got one of my knuckles. I dunno how you can fight so much and still have both hands."

"Lemme see," I took hold of it. It was warmer, softer, than I thought it would be. There was a small graze across the knuckle of her index finger. "You'll live."

I let go of her hand as she looked up at me. Her smile was smaller than usual and I could tell it hurt her cut lip.

"Might not," she said, looking away from me. "Might get infected with his dumbassery."

"Maybe," I said seriously. "If it does I'll amputate it for ya."

"Appreciated," she said.

It was a nice time of day to walk back. The sun was starting to set. It was cooler. On the way we laughed about Connor and his dumb friends. She told me about how much he'd snivelled when they'd been pulled in to see the headmaster, the way he'd almost cried his way through detention. By the end of it she almost sounded like she felt bad for him. I told her all of my best detention stories and, even though she knew them all already, she still laughed with me.

The sun had almost set by the time we got back. Someone's shitty loud music was already blasting from somewhere in the park. Beer bottles rattled. The air was heavy with weed.

"Oh shit," she whispered, coming to a complete stop. I glanced her way, saw the fear on her face. She got so pale so fast it made my own heartbeat speed up.

"What?" I asked as I followed where she was looking.

Cops.

Two of them. Not unusual for 'round here. But they were at her door and that weren't normal. She looked at me and for the first time in a long time she looked scared. I walked closer to her. There was a woman at the door in plain clothes, the two uniformed officers with her were looking around the side and trying to peer in the windows.

"Can I help you?" Naomi sounded more confident than she looked. They turned to look at us.

"Do you live here?" the one at the door asked while the cops quickly stopped snooping. She said it with a smile she hadn't had before. People were peering out of their windows, some of them came out to gawp in person. Cops ain't always to be trusted and you gotta work out why they're knocking on doors if you have something to hide. Which most everybody did. I was willing to bet whoever had brought out their dope was regretting starting to smoke so early in the evening.

"I do," Naomi nodded.

"You're Naomi Payton?" one of the cops asked.

"Yes, ma'am," Naomi replied, as polite as ever. I looked at her, saw one of her hands starting to shake. "This about my Momma? Is she dead?"

Her voice cracked. The sound cut me deep in my chest.

"Not that we know of," one of the cops quickly assured her. "We just wanted to see if she'd come home yet?"

"No," Naomi admitted, she couldn't lie now that she'd already revealed she didn't know if her Momma was even alive.

"No," the woman in the grey coat repeated. She said it in a gentle whisper but Naomi still flinched like she knew what was coming. "Well then, Naomi, my name is Miss Buchanan. I left a message on your phone the other week. I'm from Social Services. We're here to take you-"

"No," I said before I'd even realised I had said it. They all looked at me in surprise, like they hadn't noticed me before now.

"Who is this?" Miss Buchanan asked Naomi, like I couldn't speak for myself.

"Daryl," Naomi said. Her voice was quiet, shaken. I think she was answering the question but hearing her say my name like that felt like she was calling for help.

"She's staying with us," I said and I stepped in front of her, trying to get between Naomi and the people who wanted to take her away. "My dad's looking after her, he told y'all that last time you were here."

"Ah," Miss Buchanan looked down at her clipboard. "Daryl… Dixon, I presume?"

I nodded.

The cops exchanged a look.

"Can we speak to your father?" one asked.

I nodded. "Yeah, right this way."

Naomi let out a sigh of relief. I could feel my heart beating on my throat. I swallowed it down as I lead them to my place. Dad had stormed out after fighting with Merle and I couldn't say how long he'd be gone. For the first time in my life, I prayed my dad was in. I prayed he was awake. I prayed he was waiting for us.

"Dad!" I yelled when we were in sight of my place. Nothing moved behind the windows. "Dad!"

I called for him again as I opened the door. I could feel the silence grow behind me. And then a voice from deep inside my home. "He ain't here, dipshit. He'll be back at the watering hole."

Merle.

I'd damn near forgotten he was back.

He burst out of the shower, his hair wet and his lower half wrapped in a stained brown towel. As he leaned out of the doorway to yell at me some more, he clocked the police officers. I saw the slight panic in his eyes. Usually cops at our door were looking for him.

"The hell is this?" he asked them.

"I assume this is not your father, Daryl," Miss Buchanan said, looking at Merle like he'd taken a dump in front of her.

"No, I'm his brother," Merle said, looking her up and down. "The hell are you? He in some kind of trouble?"

Miss Buchanan didn't answer him. She just turned to Naomi and said in her quiet, gentle, patronising-as-hell voice, "I'm sorry, Naomi. If we can't prove there's a legal adult looking after you, we're going to have to take you in to care."

"No," I said again, louder than before. Naomi didn't say anything. She just stared at the ground, breathing hard. I could feel my hands shaking. I was sweating even though it was starting to cool down.

"Just for now," Ms Buchanan said to Naomi. "Just until we review your situation."

"You can't do that," I told them. But I knew they could. And we both knew "reviewing" Naomi's situation would take until she turned 18 and then she'd be in some halfway house god knows where and we'd never see each other again. I felt sick. I balled my hands into fists and wanted to use them."You ain't taking her."

"All she needs is an adult?" Merle asked.

Silence.

Everyone looked at him. Miss Buchanan raised an eyebrow.

"Pardon?"

"All she needs is an adult and then she can stay?" Merle asked.

"Yes, Mr Dixon," she said. "That is correct."

"I'm an adult," Merle shrugged. "I'll look after her til her Momma's home. Y'all need me to sign something?"

The silence this time was longer. I held my breath, hardly daring to hope that Merle's offer was real. He'd turned 18 in juvie and they'd been too lazy to transfer him to an adult prison to serve out the rest of his time. I'd forgotten that. And I didn't know what that meant for his record, or what would show up if they were to go and run a background check on him.

"You're an adult?" Miss Buchana said.

"You need to see my ID?" Merle asked. He lifted his wallet from the counter by the door and passed it out to her. When I saw he'd handed over his real one and not one of his fakes, I knew he was actually trying to help.

Miss Buchanan stared at it for a while. She passed it to the cops who stared at it too. Then, she handed it back, her already thin lips were just one line.

"Are you comfortable with Mr Dixon being your temporary guardian?" Ms Buchanan asked Naomi.

"Yes," Naomi said immediately.

Another pause.

"Alright," she said. "We'll review your situation in a week, Naomi. But for now, you have to make sure that you're living under the same roof as Mr Dixon here, no staying at your old place, okay?"

I almost asked her to repeat it.

Naomi nodded a lot. "You might if I pop home for a bit?" she asked. "I just need to get my stuff."

"Of course," Ms Buchanan said. "We'll come with you and then we'll be on our way. Mr Dixon, I suggest you get dressed."

"Will do boss lady," Merle grinned at her as she left.

I watched them escort Naomi back to her place."Thank you," I said to Merle and found it harder to speak than I thought.

"No problem, little brother," Merle said, turning around to find some clothes. "She's a good kid."

I sat on the steps up to the door and waited in case they didn't bring her back. But they did. She was less pale and not shaking anymore, carrying a trash bag full of things she might need. They said goodbye to all of us with a promise to return that sounded more like a threat and then Naomi came inside and we shut the door.

The first thing she did was drop the bag and throw her arms around Merle. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you, thank you, thank you."

"Hey," Merle laughed, taken aback. This kind of affection wasn't normal for either of us. He patted her on the back. "It's okay, kid. It's okay. If you're family to my brother, you're family to me."

She let go and stepped back. I could see that she was crying. I put a hand on her shoulder. "Hey," I said. "You okay?"

She nodded. "I thought I was a goner," it came out as a whisper.

I pulled her towards me. Held her tight.

Merle grinned at me like a damn idiot so I flipped him off behind her back. I was smiling too, though, I couldn't help it.

"Alright," Merle said. "If I'm gonna be the daddy 'round here, there's going to be a few house rules. First off, no sleepin' in the same bed.

We let go of each other pretty fast.

"I will be taking the master bedroom and you two can have the bunks. I'll let you fight it out for the top one," he said. "Secondly, you have a curfew of whenever you damn well please but if I'm asleep you both better keep your damn mouths shut. Third, if I have a lady round I expect you both to piss off. And fourth, I'm starving so get me the damn phone and we'll order a damn pizza."

I didn't ask where he got the money for takeout food so soon after getting out of prison. I didn't want to know. And I didn't much care. Naomi was smiling again.

Merle ordered three large pizzas and said we could take the rest for lunch. We ate until we felt sick.

"Hey, what happened to your face?" Merle asked, pointing a crust at her scabby lip.

"Got in a fight," she said with a mouthful of pizza.

"She punched some douchebag right in the mouth," I told him.

"Well shit," Merle raised his eyebrows, impressed. "You really do belong here."

Merle went out that night. We didn't ask where, we just did some homework and watched a movie until we were both tired. I took the top bunk because she said she was worried about falling out of it. That one was usually Merle's, when he'd been around, but now our Dad was gone he'd be able to take the double bed. I guessed that if our old man stumbled home any time soon we'd have to work something else out but that was a problem for another night.

Naomi fell asleep and I listened to the sound of her breathing. I wondered if we'd done the right thing. Even if her Momma did come back, she wasn't good enough to look after Naomi. I appreciated what Merle had done but he was no angel either. And if my dad came back too drunk to realise she wasn't one of his kids, there was every chance she'd wind up taking a beating. But if they took her away, where would she go? I thought about living in this place alone. I thought about her without me and me without her. It made me feel sick again, sweaty. Made my hands start to shake. Like Dad without his drink or Naomi's momma when she couldn't afford another hit. Everyone here had some way of coping, something they couldn't live without. I guess I didn't realise it, but she was mine.