NICKNAMES [1], jj maybank

CHAPTER 6

WAKING UP THE NEXT morning with my body sore is not fun. The adrenaline had worn off and now my fist is killing me.

JJ is still asleep on the floor. His snoring lets me know to not even bother waking him. I let him stay there in hopes he'll be alive enough with more hours of sleep for school tomorrow.

Tomorrow. I stare down at the bruised fist knowing I'd get a million questions.

JJ's face is bruised as well, the band aids came off in his sleep. The walk downstairs is anxiety inducing trying to figure out whether to lie or tell them what happened.

"Sam!" Brandon smiles at me as he walks in the big white doors with groceries. "What fucking time is it?" I ask through a stretch.

Brandon has groceries lined up on his arms but still checks his phone.

"11:24!" A quiet thanks left my mouth. I descend down the rest of the stairs checking my phone. The group chat only has Pope and Kie active this early in the morning. I like to pretend it's not almost the afternoon.

I stumble into the kitchen holding my fist in my opposite hand. Justin sits at the island in the kitchen drinking coffee. The amount of granite the kitchen had would have paid off my old house. The house was more old money rather than new money.

Which, I am very thankful for.

It feels more like a home. Something I'd never truly get used to having. Justin greets me with a smile before looking down at my fist. He pushes out his chair and runs over to me. I subconsciously hide my fist from the men because now Brandon is looking at my fist as well. "What the hell did you do?" I really would've preferred getting through this without questions.

This is the part where I try to figure out if I lie to them or tell the truth and risk them telling my mom. My cheeks puff up and I keep looking between the both of them.

"Sam, if you tell us we won't tell your mom." Brandon tells me, still reaching for my fist. They keep this promise every time, each time I run in high or drunk or needed a pickup along with The Pogues. I sigh and pull my fist out of my pocket.

They both gasp at the state of my hand. I want to gasp at my own fist now that I'm somewhat fully awake. My knuckles must've started bleeding in my sleep because there's dried blood. "So—Adrien showed up. He got released from the hospital. He showed up to be a dickhead I guess—fought JJ-"

"Is he okay?" Justin interrupts me.

I rolls my eyes,"Yeah. Your favorite child is fine. He's upstairs sleeping." Justin has always favored JJ. It's pretty obvious when he asks about him or let's him cook with him when he's over. Especially when he buys him clothes. He buys him clothes more than he buys me clothes.

"Anyway, I punched him in the face. A lot." My hand seems to have stung at my words, like it was triggering for my own body to think back to it.

I still feel guilty about hurting Adrien. A part of me knows I still care and that what I told him was a lie. Maybe I was saying it to convince JJ or myself that I completely stopped caring about Adrien. I care less definitely, I wish I didn't care at all. "You punched him in the face? Was he bleeding?"

"Yeah. He called me crazy—" I pause and look up for their reactions but all there is are small smiles "—Why are you smiling?"

"You should've punched him in the face a long ass time ago!" Brandon comments and Justin agrees.

Everyone is so proud of me and I should be proud of myself like I am after every fight I've ever been in. Instead, I feel the need to go check on Adrien, like everything I said last night was a lie and that he was right.