Also, Thanksgiving was this coming weekend. She had been so looking forward to visiting her granny and spending some time with her. She’d been feeling so homesick as of late. Life at the House of Goths wasn’t exactly unbearable but sometimes she still couldn’t help but feel a bit lonesome.
The boys came and went as they pleased, did their own thing, alone or with each other, but they rarely went out of their way to include her.
Sure, she could understand Crispin’s obvious disinterest in her. Dorian seemed nice enough in the beginning, but lately he rarely made the effort to seek her out. Most of all it hurt that even Kelley avoided her.
“She sure spends a lot of time up in her room,” Dorian said as the three Goths lounged in front of the television.
“Good,” Crispin said, reclining into his corner of the couch. “Better there than here.”
“Come on, man,” Kell said, leaning on his elbow, watching the latest horror flick with little interest. “Quit the act.”
“What act?” Crispin balked.
“You know what I mean.” Kell rolled his eyes. “Everyone knows you like her. Let it go.”
“Like her?” Crispin repeated indignantly. “I barely tolerate the twit. It’s you who likes her.”
“Well, I like her,” Dorian declared. “What’s not to like? She’s quiet, she’s cute and she keeps to herself.”
The three of them sat in silence for the remainder of the movie. None actually paying much attention to the plot.
“Should we watch another?” Crispin asked when the credits rolled, digging through a pile of random DVDs.
“Sure, why not?” Kell said with lacklustre enthusiasm.
“I don’t know. I’m beat. I think I’ll call it a night,” Dorian said, standing up and stretching. He made his way into the hall and nearly ran over Becky.
“Hey, what are you doing out here all alone?” he asked, bending down to her level.
“Nothing…” She wasn’t about to tell him that she’d been lurking in the hall for quite some time, wanting to watch television with them, but too timid to enter the room.
“Go on then, Crispin’s just started another movie,” he said, reading her mind.
“You sure?” she asked self-consciously.
“Of course, why not?” Laughingly, he took her by the shoulders and guided her into the living room. “Gentlemen, turns out Miss Becky would like to join you for the next movie. Is that all right?” he asked as he plunked her down on the couch beside a glowering Crispin.
“Hey, there you are. Of course, it’s all right,” Kelley said, sitting up in his chair, suddenly very much alert. Was she a sight for sore eyes or what? From the elevated beating of his heart at the mere sight of her, he realized then just how well a job he’d been doing at purposely avoiding her. It only served to cause him to miss her. Sweet little thing.
“Right then, enjoy,” Dorian said, winking mischievously at Crispin’s scowl.
Suddenly there she was, sitting in the dimly lit room, very much aware of the heavy tension in the air. They either really didn’t want her there or she was just imagining things.
“You like horror movies, love?” Kell asked, raising an eyebrow.
“Now and then,” she said with a self-conscious shrug. She didn’t really, but she wasn’t about to admit it. Besides, she was just tired of being alone upstairs in her room.
“You’d better,” Crispin challenged, reclining into his corner. Just to prove a point, he stretched his long leather-clad legs out on the couch, claiming most of the space for himself, forcing Becky to sit farther into her corner, away from his big feet.
Halfway through the movie, most of which, she’d watched through closed eyes, Becky felt herself start to doze off, despite the disturbing scenes. Having sat in the same uncomfortable position for a while, she shifted slightly, unaware of the fact that in doing so, she unintentionally started to lean towards Crispin’s side of the couch. Eventually she dozed off and found herself resting completely against his bent knees.
“Wonderful,” Crispin grumbled, with a roll of his eyes. “Look at us, we’re cuddling.”
His voice woke her and she sat up abruptly. “Sorry,” she said, looking bashfully from Crispin to a very much aware, Kell.
Returning their attentions back to the seemingly never ending movie, eventually, Becky started to doze off once again. This time she slid and fell entirely into the crevice between Crispin and the couch, resting her face on his hip.
“Well, don’t look at me like that,” Crispin whispered, catching Kell’s glare.
“Fuck you,” Kell grumbled, not at all liking, actually hating, the sight of Becky so intimately reclined against Crispin.
By the time the credits rolled, none of them could tell you what the movie was about, since Becky was now completely out cold and flopped over Crispin’s chest, her hand tucked cosily under his chin. Crispin too, had apparently dozed off, his hands resting casually on her back while Kell was left seething with inexplicable anger at the disgustingly touching scene.
“Thank goodness,” Crispin mumbled, rousing awake when Kell plucked Becky from his clutches. “Get this clingy thing off me.”
“Right,” Kell muttered sarcastically, carefully balancing Becky in his arms. “Come on, love. Time for bed.”
“Bed… Kelley,” she murmured happily, snuggling into him and clutching his long hair in her fist.
“That’s right, Kelley,” he whispered, touched by the fact that even in her state of semi-consciousness, she had recognized him. Tucking her into his chest, he carried her effortlessly up the stairs. “Sweet little thing,” he murmured. Before he could stop himself, he leaned in and planted a kiss on her forehead.
Chapter 7
Friday morning, Becky woke up early and crept downstairs, following the rich aroma of freshly ground coffee. “It’s not Saturday,” she said, pleasantly surprised to find Kelley in the kitchen. He was already dressed in his ultra-Goth pseudo-military gear, eyeliner and all.
“Hey, you,” Kell said, leaning up against the counter, watching her sidle up to the kitchen table. Could she be more adorable? She wasn’t like most girls he knew. Becky had an air of innocence about her that never ceased to impress him. For instance, she never thought twice about walking around the house in her flimsy PJs. Her little rounded curves, so very obvious through the soft fabric. Oh, how his fingers itched to reach out and touch her.
“You’re up early. Classes don’t start up for a few hours.”
There were times, though, when the others were around that he wished she would be a bit more aware of her state undress, yet when it was just the two of them, like this, he found nothing wrong with her pyjamas or her trusting personality. In fact, he treasured it.
“The coffee woke me,” she said with a drowsy smile, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “It smells so good.”
He smiled softly and poured themselves each a hearty mugful. Placing them down on the table, he sat down next to her.
“Looking forward to seeing your grandmother this weekend?” he asked, watching her as she took a sip of her coffee. Such a pretty little mouth…
“I’m not going,” she said with a slight hitch in her voice.
“Why not?” he said, suddenly wishing he hadn’t asked. He couldn’t stand to see the despondent misery in her eyes. She’d been so looking forward to her trip home. That’s all she’d talked about last week. He even offered to drive her to the train station.
Becky frowned and forced herself to keep from falling apart. Ever since the start of the school year, she had been counting the days until she could see her granny on Thanksgiving. Now it wasn’t going to be possible. The realization of how truly alone in the world she was finally hit her.
“Granny’s sick with the flu,” she said, biting her bottom lip, forcing it from quivering. “They’ve quarantined the seniors’ residence so no one can visit.”
Seeing the uncertainty on her face and hearing the disappointment in he
r voice, caused a wince in Kell’s heart. “That’s too bad, but I suppose they do have to follow strict rules when it comes to things of that nature.”
She nodded solemnly and sniffed. “What about you, Kelley? Are you visiting with family this weekend?” she asked, looking at him with liquid green eyes. Oddly, she realized that he had never discussed his plans with her. In fact, she knew so little about him. For a moment, he only stared at her. She started to think he wasn’t going to say anything. Then he smiled sadly and toyed with one of the many pewter rings on his long fingers.
“I am my family,” he said finally, turning his attention to his coffee. “I’m the last of the line.”
“Oh… sorry. I didn’t realize.” Her heart broke for him. Suddenly, she felt compelled to hear more of his past. The man was always such a mystery. “What happened to your parents?”
“They died a few years ago,” he said cryptically. “All of them, mother, father, brother, sister, all gone.”
“Oh my God!” she gasped. “How?”
“Carbon monoxide leak in the furnace,” he said, looking oddly guilty. “I got off lucky because I left my window open that night. Funny thing is… it was winter, freezing outside. I never slept with the window open. That night, though, I’d been smoking pot in my room. I didn’t want to be found out so I opened the window.” He chuckled, then frowned. “If only I hadn’t opened the window. If they’d only smelled the pot… they might have woken up in time. They might have been spared.”
“Or you might have died along with them,” Becky said, placing her hand over his. “I’m so sorry, Kelley.”
He tensed and jerked his hand away. “So am I,” he said, standing up abruptly. “I always was a disappointment to my parents. Even in the end.” He left the kitchen then, grabbing his car keys and heading out the back door.
“Wait, Kelley…” She scrambled after him into the yard. The cold October air sliced through her pyjamas, and she clutched her arms around herself.
“Get back inside, Becky!” he ordered, hearing her footsteps behind him. “It’s still dark out, it’s freezing and you’re not dressed.”
“Wait… where are you going?” she asked, hesitating at the irritation in his voice.
Without another word, Kell got into his black Charger and started the engine. The headlights flooded brightly, lighting her up in the process. After a moment of hesitation, the car engine revved up with a menacing growl, the wheels skidded and ground on the gravel driveway, as he backed out and drove away.
Confused and hurt, Becky stood shivering a few moments before turning back towards the house. When she reached the door, she found Crispin holding it open for her, a scowl on his otherwise handsome face. He too was already fully dressed in his Victorian-inspired finery.
“For God’s sake, Becky! What are you doing running around outside in those flimsy pyjamas?” he scoffed, then pointed at her feet. “Barefoot and all. You trying to get sick again?” It took all his willpower not to grab her by the ear and give it a nasty twist.
“Sorry…” Why was she apologizing, she wondered, frowning at the scowling enigmatic Goth, who apparently despised her?
She startled when he slammed the door shut behind him, and followed her into the kitchen. “Don’t you have classes today?” he asked, stalking past her and pouring himself a cup of coffee. He inwardly kicked himself. Why should he care what she was doing running around half dressed in the yard? Yet he did, and it rankled him to the core.
“Yes,” she said with a frown, still thinking about Kelley’s words and his abrupt departure. “It’s only seven o’clock, though.”
“Then why are you up?” he grumbled, uncomfortable with the direction his feelings were going in regards to the silly little twit. Where was all this concern coming from? Look at her. She obviously thought she was bigger than she actually was. Didn’t she realize that anyone could simply snatch her off the property and be off with her?
“Why are you up?” she challenged him.
“Fuck off, dormouse. You’re irritating me now.” He scowled, dismissively shooing her away with his hand.
“Yeah, well, you suck!” she yelled, stomping out of the kitchen and all the way up the stairs, ignoring Dorian as he passed her in the hall.
“What was that about?” Dorian asked, reaching the kitchen.
“How the hell should I know?” Crispin muttered unbothered. “The girl’s obviously unstable.”
“Right.” Dorian chuckled, reaching for a mug.
***
Later that day, spying her from their usual booth at the diner, Dorian knocked on the glass as she walked by and waved her over.
“What did you do that for?” Crispin grumbled. “Can’t we have a moment’s peace anymore?”
Dorian shook his head and looked at Crispin like he had two heads. “She walks by here everyday. She knows we’re here yet she never comes in,” Dorian stated with a frown.
“She obviously doesn’t like us very much,” Crispin snickered. The girl still startled every time he walked in the room. She clearly hated him, despite having fallen asleep on his lap the other night.
“You’re the one who doesn’t like her,” Dorian scoffed. “Or at least, you like to let her think you don’t.”
Becky didn’t dare believe she could simply join them in the diner. Ever since that fateful day when they’d scowled at her, she just assumed that she wasn’t welcome at their booth.
Even though they were now housemates, she didn’t think they’d appreciate her hanging out with them in and around campus.
But since Dorian had so obviously invited her, Becky didn’t hesitate. Good thing, too since the temperature had dropped dramatically the last few days.
This time when she entered the diner, she held her head up proudly and walked straight over to where Dorian sat smiling at her.
“Hey, you,” Dorian said, sliding over to let her in beside him.
“Hi,” she said, trying very hard not to let Crispin’s scowl bring her down. Despite her good mood, she couldn’t help but be disappointed that Kelley wasn’t there. She had been worried about him ever since that morning.
Dorian playfully wrapped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her in for a quick hug. “Tell me something, Becky. Where do you go every day for lunch?”
“The park,” she said self-consciously.
Crispin raised a perfectly lined eyebrow and sighed. “The park?” he repeated. “Whatever for?”
“To eat,” she said with a frown.
“All this time? You’ve been eating your lunch in the park? All by yourself?” Dorian asked incredulously. “It’s freezing out there.”
“Well, I can’t exactly go home for lunch. It’s too far a walk. It would take me too long to get there and back before my next class,” she explained, averting her eyes from them both.
“Why wouldn’t you just come in here? You know we’re usually here at this time,” Dorian said with a curious smile.
She shrugged self-consciously. “I don’t know,” she said quietly.
“What do you mean, you don’t know?” Crispin asked impatiently. “Speak up for yourself, girl.”
Looking directly at Crispin, she resolved herself and found her voice. “I didn’t think you guys wanted me here.” She finally admitted with a pathetic pout. “Especially you. You’re always glaring at me, Crispin. You obviously don’t like me.”
“Told you, it was all you,” Dorian said accusingly.
“Oh, now here it is. It’s all my fault, as usual,” Crispin said with a roll of his cool grey eyes.
“Becky, of course, you’re welcome here. Don’t pay any attention to Crispin. He can be a tiresome old dolt sometimes,” Dorian said, ruffling her hair. “Silly girl, you’re family now.”
She smiled appreciatively at his affirmation. At least, Dorian seemed to care. Crispin, on the other hand, said nothing more on the matter. Instead, he changed the subject altogether.
The guys talked back and fort
h about their band, songs and classes. Then, of course, being Goths, things always had a way of veering towards the macabre. Mostly about how the world was going to shit and how much they didn’t care because soon it was all going to come to an end.
Having heard much of the same talk at home, Becky didn’t really care to contribute so much as she was just happy to be warm and dry.
“Want something from the counter?” Dorian asked, taking his mug up for a refill of coffee.
“Um… sure,” she said, reaching for her satchel. “Coffee, please.”
“It’s on me, today,” Dorian said, walking away before she could protest.
“Oh… okay, thanks.”
“Aren’t you going to get something to eat?” Crispin asked, jarring her attention back to him.
Honestly, she didn’t know what to think when it came to Crispin. He sat in the booth with his arm resting casually across the headrest, looking like he owned the place. His long wavy hair was perfectly parted and shiny and appeared ever so soft to the touch. He had gorgeous grey eyes, lined in smoky charcoal. His nails, meticulously manicured and painted black. The man was so painfully handsome, she might even be tempted to describe him as beautiful.
Yet, he could be so cold and hateful. He had an air of contempt for everything and everyone, especially her. The enigmatic Goth wore a perpetual scowl on his otherwise flawless face. No wonder, people avoided this booth as they passed by on their way to the restrooms at the back.
“I brought my own,” she said, covertly pulling a sandwich out from her satchel. “Do you think they’ll mind if I eat it in here?” she asked, cautiously looking over her shoulder at the employees behind the counter.
“Like they would dare to come over and complain,” Crispin scoffed challengingly. “Go on, dormouse. Eat your meagre little sandwich. Trust me, no one will bother you here.”
Chapter 8
When she got home that afternoon, Becky was again disappointed to discover that Kelley hadn’t yet returned. He’d missed life drawing class too. She so wanted to talk to him. He’d left so abruptly that morning. What if in his distraught state, he’d gotten in a car accident?
House of Goths Page 8
