Everything Fragile✔

Chapter Three - Cracking Knucles & Not Skulls

   One time, when I was younger, a cat scratched my cheek. I had it coming. It was scared and I was approaching it like the dumb little girl that I was. Arms stretched outwards, eyes wide, and a long grin plastered on my lips. I was not prepared for when the creature lunged at me. 

   When mom saw it, she didn't know what to do besides giving me antibiotics and even then, with the wound cleaned and covered, my teacher still thought that one of my parents had hurt me. I will never forget that look in her eyes. That accusational glare. 

   It's almost similar to the way that officer Hank is looking at me now. Eyes set, brows perked up as he listens to me spew out a warped version of what went on at Marina's during the night of the shooting. I can already tell that he's not buying a bit of it and I don't understand why. I've always been good at lying.

   Dad reaches out from beside me and touches my hand when I'm done speaking. It's the first time he's done that in years, I think. I suppose being in this hospital room has changed him a bit. Maybe it reminds him too much of mom when she was brought here on that dreaded night when everything changed for the both of us.

   "So," Officer Hank begins, pulling me out of my thoughts. "The two boys, Derek Wilmer and Andrew Garcia, were both shot after pulling out weapons. Then the girl, Valerie, fainted due to fear. Then, somehow, you defeated the suspect who was in possession of a firearm all on your own?"

   Well, when he puts it like that, I can understand his doubt. How could I--a seventeen year old girl--take down an active shooter without any assistance? Especially when Valerie's friends failed to do so as well. If I were in his position, I wouldn't believe a single thing that left my mouth. However, I'm not and I need him to believe me because as bizarre as it sounds, I did save our asses and I had a whole lot of luck while doing it.

   "Can I just reiterate that his gun did run out of bullets. I understand that he still could've defended himself with it, but he didn't and I took him down. If not me then who else?"

   He huffs and leans back in the seat stationed at the foot of my bed. "Alright, Delco. We got your statement. How about we take a bit of time to talk to your old man here privately."

   "Why do you need to talk to him? He wasn't even there."

   Officer Hank doesn't acknowledge me. Him and his partner just stand and motion for dad to talk with them outside. I'm annoyed, but I'm just a kid, so what more should I expect? Dad lifts himself out of his seat. Without looking back at me, he leaves with the two officers. I can't even hear them when the door closes behind their fleeting figures, but I can see them… kind of.

   "Whatever." I grumble beneath my breath. Turning to my right, I slide my hand beneath my pillow and pull out the million dollar check. I rub my finger along the number and smile.

   This is so much more than we deserve, but I'm not complaining.

   I wonder if I should tell dad. Knowing him though? It would be smart if I didn't. Dad has a tendency to go on spending sprees whenever he gets paid. He buys drinks for himself, wasting away at night with a cigarette between his lips. Then, he buys drinks for his friends, if you can even call them that. They're just loud and obnoxious old men who bully dad every time they visit. Anyways, by the time it's time to pay the bills, dad can't even put in half the amount that he promised, leaving me to take a few hundred bucks out of my college savings. We've been hanging by a hair and he doesn't even know it. I ran out of savings a month ago and I was more than sure that this month I'd have to ask Gwen if I could move in with her. If not that then the streets would be my home. However, we're saved and all it took was one measly little lie on my part.

   The door swings open suddenly, interrupting my thoughts. I almost don't believe my eyes when Caleb González enters the room. His presence is like a dream. The only time I've seen him was on the front cover of Vogue and even then I couldn't help but feel overly intimidated by his aura that emitted from the flimsy little paper.

   I must be dreaming, but I'm not because he's looking at me and the weight of his gaze feels like a building has fallen on top of me. I wonder how a mere man can enforce such fear and shock so heavily without lifting a single finger. Well, I guess the most important thing I should wonder is why the hell he's here in my room? I'm a nobody; a mere smudge in existence. What reason could he have for being here?

   My question gets answered quicker than I thought it would when Valerie walks in after him followed by my dad and the two officers. Despite the small scratch on her cheek, Valerie is almost an exact replica of the man. Same colored hair, same big dough-like eyes, and same brooding persona. 

   "That's her." She says while pointing at me. "The girl in the footage, the one that saved my life."