Athena

16. I'll Stay

Cruz continues to sit beside me on the bed, awaiting my response. Unease grips me from head to toe. I grimace in the dark. "I-I... haven't decided."

I wish I could give him a clearer answer.

"What's holding you back?"

I can tell he wants me to go after Chrissa and Brody.

Yet, pressing charges is the last thing I want to worry about right now. I don't even know how to file a police report. In my head, it seems like an exhausting, intimidating process that's unlikely to go anywhere.

"I dunno," I mumble unintelligibly.

But maybe I'm lying here.

Maybe I do know.

Because, at the end of the day, Chrissa Lawrence is Chrissa Lawrence and Brody Carlisle is Brody Carlisle and I am who I am. I'm only Athena Rose, and, despite the name my mom gave me, the gods and goddesses have never been on my side. My mind wars with itself. Thoughts flip flop back and forth on what to do.

Flip.

On one hand, I have the kit from the hospital.

Flop.

On the other hand, Diane didn't find any traces of Brody or Chrissa's DNA on me. There were no signs of struggle on my part, no semen or spit or scratches, and I didn't mention their names in the official report. I don't think I have enough proof to go after them.

Flip.

I know Cruz promised to speak up for me. Maybe Alison will help out, too.

Flop.

I don't want to burden them with my problems.

I bet Chrissa and Brody's parents can afford to hire some damn good lawyers. I don't have that kind of money. I have a couple thousand dollars saved up from weed sales, but I don't want to spend it on myself. That money is for rent, food, and bills when I become Persie's guardian.

Even if I decide to go to court, I doubt Cruz's dad wants him to get involved in a messy legal battle. Aunt Katrina will probably side with Ron, so, in the end, I'll be in this fight on my own.

In quiet tones, Cruz echoes, "You don't know, huh?"

Still feeling muddled by my thoughts, I stay silent.

He releases another sigh. "Why don't we put this conversation on pause, then? It's late. You should get some rest. Let's deal with this shit tomorrow morning."

"Okay," I whisper, "that's probably a good idea."

Cruz rises from my mattress. "I guess I'll go, then."

"Mm-hmm."

He starts walking away. An irrational anxiety grips me as I watch him leave. I don't want to be alone again.

In the dark.

With my thoughts.

Sleep will never come for me.

As he reaches the door, I suddenly find myself panicking again and calling out, "Wait!"

Cruz stops and turns towards me. "Yeah?"

I can't believe I'm acting like such a clingy child right now, but—

"Can you stay with me," I plead softly, "until I fall asleep?"

He doesn't answer right away, and, instantly, I regret opening my big, stupid mouth.

I scramble to take it back, "Nevermind, I'm sorry, I shouldn't have asked. It's so weird, I know. Forget I ever said any—"

"I'll stay."

"Really?" I gasp.

Cruz shuffles back towards my bed, but he halts beside me, standing, and doesn't take a seat on the mattress.

"Should I sit on the floor? I don't wanna wake you when I go..."

Dude.

Who knew this mofo could be so considerate?

A pleased blush creeps up my neck as I offer tentatively, "You can stay on the bed... I don't mind."

I can feel his hesitation hang in the air.

"You sure?" Cruz murmurs.

I already feel safer, calmer, knowing that he'll be here with me. Within seconds, exhaustion descends on me like a weighted blanket.

I nod and yawn. "Yeah, I'm sure."

Cruz comes closer. Then, he sits on the edge of my bed, resting his back against the wall. My mattress is only a twin, so I scoot towards the other side to give him more room. He shuffles to get in a more comfortable position. His side brushes against my shoulder. It makes me want to snuggle closer to him.

Sleepily, I mutter, "Cruz?"

"Hmm?"

"You're actually a really good guy," I muse in half-awake, half-asleep tones.

"What makes you say that?"

My eyelids grow heavy. Little by little, they fall shut. I'm no longer paying attention to what he's saying.

I grunt, "Hmm?"

"I said," Cruz repeats himself, "what makes you say that?"

He sounds curious.

Yawning in between pauses, I reply in a drifting, drowsy manner, "I guess... before... you acted like you didn't want me around, but... these past two days... you really stepped up when I needed you. I think that says a lot about your character."

Darkly, he laughs, "I'm not that good of a guy, Athena. I don't think you know me well enough... yet."

"Still," I whisper, "thank you. For everything."

Cruz doesn't say anything, but his hand brushes lightly against my cheek. He gives me a gentle pat. "You're welcome."

His touch soothes me. I float towards a sweet, slumbering haze. My breathing slows. My muscles relax.

A few minutes later, I hear Cruz murmur something in almost inaudible tones, and I don't know if he intended for me to hear it.

He probably thinks I'm asleep.

"I'm sorry for being such an ass. I had my reasons. From now on, I promise, I won't let anything bad happen to you..."

I'm too tired to respond, but, in the shadows of my room, a faint smile tugs at my lips. Because I believe him. I feel like he has my back.

As the rest of Cruz's words sink in, though—I had my reasons—an unexpected pop of curiosity emerges in my mind.

Reasons?

What reasons?

Yet, my questions flicker and fade within the same second. Soon, my head is too foggy to process anything as sleep pulls me under at last.