Crush on Mr. Bad Boy by Lilly Purdon (31)

Chapter 31 FEVER DREAMS

The road was completely empty. We were outside of town anyways.

“Mr. Spencer,” the old cook greeted.

“Jeff,” I greeted back. He used to work at the house, but my dad fired him because the food was ‘too greasy’. I liked my food cooked that way. Greasy and fried. “Got anything for a sick girl to eat here?”

“We have some cream mushroom soup, today’s special.”

“I’ll take one of that then.”

I looked up at the menu. Would Rosie get full with just a container of soup?

“You got a girl?”

She wouldn’t be coming to this diner anyway, so I might as well… “Well I don’t have her, but she’s the best one yet,” I smiled.

“Hope she’s no trouble maker.”

“Oh no, no,” I shook my head, “she’s… a good gal’. Straight A’s, calm, kind, patient, and looks at the world positively most of the time.”

Jeff’s lip tugged upwards as he flipped a patty, “you should hear yourself. Ain’t love a pretty thing?”

“You can’t deny that smile on yer’ face boy.”

I didn’t want him getting the wrong idea… well, I gave him the idea in the first place. So I was to blame.

“Why don’t you make her yours?”

I was taken aback by his question.

“If she makes ya’ that happy, why don’t you marry the girl?”

“Make her yours boy! Before someone else sweeps her off her feet.”

The guy had a point.

“What else would a girl like on your menu?”

“Most girls are picky. Take one of everything, and then see what she likes.” He joked.

I did exactly what he said. 

“Rosie,” I called out.

“Rosie,” I called out again.

She still didn’t wake up. I unpacked one of the boxes that contained a dish with bacon in it. I opened it and waved it in front of her nose. Her eyes flew open immediately.

“HUNGRY!”

She lifted herself up and sniffed the air, “you have food?”

I nodded quickly, holding up the box, “I got you some food.”

She looked behind me, “what’s that?” she pointed at the paper bags I had carried in.

“Drugs,” I joked.

She calmed down.

“Sorry, I don’t feel too well,” she said, seeming aware.

“Well, I got you breakfast.” I brought over the containers of food and placed them on her bed. She got off of her bed to make room for the food.

“Thank you,” her voice was so sweet. It was satisfying to hear her approval, “How much did you get?” 

“I didn’t know what you wanted,” I got picked up the last container of food and placed it on the bed, “so I got one of everything.”

She seemed to be slipping in and out of self awareness. She started laughing; “really?” her voice was high like a little girl’s voice.

I frowned, “is that bad?”

She suddenly seemed aware again, “no, no, will we finish it though?”

“How hungry are you?” I asked.

Her stomach growling was an answer for me.

“We’ll manage.” I opened the container of soup and handed it to her with a spoon, “Since you’re not feeling too well.”

I chose what she didn’t seem to want to eat. I gave her the first picks. There was something comforting in seeing her being treat with respect and seeing her being put first for once. No one else seemed to realize they didn’t treat her too well…. Except Dustin.

“Eat more,” she tossed me a breakfast burrito. Even with her terrible aim, I still managed to catch it.

I noticed her slowly shift towards me on the bed we were sitting on. I don’t know whether she was doing it consciously, but I’d like to think she was.

Surprisingly, we only had a breakfast burger left. We were so hungry, we managed to finish everything else.

“I feel gross, I haven’t brushed my teeth.”

She was slipping back into her unaware self. I felt her forehead with the back of my hand; the fever was still there. She needed to sleep it off.

“Do you want to go home?”

She shook her head, “step mom.”

“She’s going to my step dad’s at 10.” I glanced at my watch, it was 9:23. “We can head there now and just go in when she leaves.”

She seemed aware once again, “we can’t risk it. What if she’s gone for only a short time?”

“What if she decides to turn around and come home?”

“We can lock the door.”

“What if she breaks the door down?”

She was getting a bit silly again.

“Sometimes,” she mumbled.

Yep, definitely not fully conscious.

“Where are we?”

A few moments later, we pulled to a stop in front of my house.

“How do you know where I live?”

I scratched the back of my head. How was I supposed to answer that question without creeping her out? She sounded out of it and not sober. She probably wasn't thinking straight with her fever.

“Well, aren’t you going to tell me?” she asked.

“I’ll just assume you stalk me then.”

“But I don’t!”

I was obviously guilty.

I quickly got onto the bike and motioned for her to follow. I drove a couple houses down to watch Rosie’s stepmom leave her house. She drove a pretty new convertible. She treated herself well with the money Rosie’s dad gave to them, yet didn’t save any for Rosie. It made my blood boil.

Once the car had left, I drove us back to her house, purposefully parking my baby right in the driveway so she wouldn’t be able to park in the garage.

“Let’s go inside,” I motioned for her to follow me. She quickly followed me. “Do you have a key with you?”

“Key,” I made a hand action of unlocking the door.

She stared at me, before looking at the ground. She started talking to herself. “No, I can’t let that happen,” she whispered.

I didn't push her on the subject; she was half asleep anyway. “Okay then, we'll just have to find another way in then.” I looked up and observed the medium sized house. She lived in two story cream house with a brown roof.

There was a window opened on the second floor, but it’d be quite a climb to get up there. I could’ve broken the door down and hoped her stepmom wouldn’t mind. Oh, hell with her evil stepmother. She had been sleeping around with my stepdad for nearly three years.

My mom divorced my dad because she thought he was a 'loser', and she could do better. Dad worked in a garage and fixed cars. We weren’t the richest family, but at least we had enough to get by. But mom wanted more. She went for one of the richest business men in the country.

I didn’t really know what was going on back then. She’d disappear for days, telling me ‘I’m finding you a better future’. She cheated on my dad with my current step dad. She wasn’t the nicest person, but she was my mom.

The most ironic thing about this whole situation was that she had the exact same thing happen to her, (except for the money part). Karma got her back. But it was unfair; I didn’t deserve the wrath she brought on. I guess that’s why I didn’t feel the need to break it to her until it benefitted me.

I turned to her and studied her carefully. Her bright blue eyes, as bright as the summer sky were staring at me with expectation. I had no clue what she was talking about, “no?”

I walked around the house searching for an open window or somewhere easier to break in. I could easily break the front door down, but I didn’t want the cops being called on us. It was easy to get caught in a town like this.

I stepped away about 10 feet and took in a deep breath. “Don't be a pussy, you can do it.” I encouraged myself and took another deep breathe. “Axel Storm Spencer, don’t be a fucking wimp.”

Her house was tiny compared to mine, but it also held a sense of coldness.... not the homey vibe I was expecting. The floor was hard wood with carpeting here and there, the walls were painted grey few picture frames on the walls. Before I let her in, I looked at a few of the photos.

All of them were of her father and her stepmom. It was like they didn’t even want her under the same roof. The house was something glittering vampires would live in. I cringed at my own thought. I was listening to drunken girls rambling on too much.

I went into the first room I came to. I knew it was Rosaline’s room from the moment I stepped in it. Unlike the other rooms in the house, her rooms was colorful. It was the most girly rooms I had ever seen in my life, ever.

Secretly, I had always had a little thing for her. Thank god no one ever caught me glancing at her. It started out as fascination. Why was she so patient with everyone who picked on her? Why was she so closed? Why would she hide her head in a book whenever she was alone? After math class, I’d watch her put her books away sometimes.

She was so gentle with everything she did. Layla would sometimes bump into her on purpose and make her drop her books. Of course, I was too afraid to go over and help her or at least talk to her. Whenever she would feel my stare burning into her, she’d look up but I would always be looking in another direction.

I noticed her only dimple on her right cheek, I noticed how when she was nervous she would either bite on her lip, run her hand through her hair or furrow her eyebrows. She was so kind… even when Layla humiliated her, she still didn’t want to slit the girl’s throat. If I were her, Layla would be long dead.

I knew Rosie was upset about her emo friend getting expelled, and blamed Layla for it. But if you asked me, the emo had been doing lots of shit behind Rosie’s back. She was just oblivious to everything; the violence, the drugs, and the reputation she had.

Layla had reasons for doing things, obviously her reasons for torturing Rosie could never justify her actions, but Layla didn’t torment everyone just for fun. I saw the way she was with different people. A bitch to some, sweet to some… and an absolute monster to Rosie.

I narrowed my eyes at her, “I’m serious.”

She scratched the back of her head nervously.

“Fail what?”

“Failed dress up, silly!” she brushed passed me into the house.  “I always win dress up with Jaxon.”

Hearing his name was like hearing an elephant fart, or someone’s nails against a chalkboard. I shut the door behind her and locked it.

“You think so?” Boy was she clueless.

“I know so,” she replied confident.

I didn’t want to rain on her parade, “how do you know he hasn’t changed?”

Though she was half awake, I hoped I could still talk a bit of sense into her.

“Specify, what kind of stuff has he been doing?”

Leaning Layla over the tables and claiming her and his.

“Like…” she tried to play it off as if she knew, “stuff.”

“What kind of stuff?”

“I just want to make sure he's good enough to be your best friend.”

“You care? Never thought you did.”

“Why do you think I never cared?”

She started talking in third person, “Because the first time you actually talked to Rosaline, was when she was in the nurse’s office because of an ‘accident’ in P.E... and you said something really inappropriate.” She said the last part quietly.

“Oh yeah…” I was pretty disappointed, “sorry.”

“Piggy back ride?”

“Just does.”

“But… why?”

“Get on my back, Flower.”

“Answer me first.”

“Don’t ‘Flower’ me, answer me!”

I sighed, “I just don’t like him.”

“Why? There must be a reason.”

“He’s doing something behind your back.”

“Like planning a surprise?”

“You could say so.”

She clapped her hands, “I love surprises.”

“It’s a bad one.”

She gasped, “what is it?!”

Thankfully, she didn't push further, “alright…”

She got on my back and hooked her legs around my back. I easily lifted her up and carried her up the stairs. Damn, how much did this girl weigh? 60 pounds?

She giggled, “Dustin let me ride on his back too.”

Jesus, how many guys did I have to compete with?

Of course with her adorable face I had to give in. “Fine.” She scooted over so I had space to sit on her bed. “So do you want me to read a specific story?” I looked at her shelf filled with romance novels.