Ladybug [h.s.]

7

Delilah

~~~~~~~~

My knuckles rap against the glass of the window lightly as I wait for one of the girls to let me back in. The sound of Harry's motorcycle rumbles in the background no matter how desperately I will him away, as if bubblegum circled his tires, gluing him in place. I lie flat against the roof, letting the ridges of siding dig into my back to ground me. The night feels like a blurry roller coaster ride - hills and rickety wooden carts flying through a cloud of hazy fog. Underground train ride; burrowing like rabbits below the surface. Flipped compass.

I hear the gentle rustle of curtains before Eleanor's shocked face appears behind the glass. She hurries to pull open the window, helping to haul me back inside, and it isn't until the moment my forearms meet the carpet that the white noise of the bike fades into the black.

"Delilah, oh my god?" Dorothy rushes over, disoriented with sleep, and nearly throws herself on top of me with a relieved sigh like I'd just fought a bear. "Are you okay?"

"Have fun, Del?" Nor squats down to help me up, a tired smile on her face, "How was Dreamboat?"

I force a smile, nodding my head, "Yeah, it was fun. Jack was good."

"I wasn't talking about Jack." She motions with her head pointedly toward the window, evidently having caught a glimpse of Harry before he rode away.

My eyes roll on their own accord before closing and my head falls back to rest against the side of her mattress. Dorothy curls up at my side, resting against my shoulder while Nor shuts the window and climbs onto her bed behind us.

"That was crazy, Deli. I can't believe you actually snuck off with those guys." Dot murmurs in something that sounds almost like amazement.

My only response is a shrug. The regret in my stomach feels like an endless terrain of mountains and raging rapids. I shouldn't have gone. All I'd wanted to do was to get under Harry's skin and feel that same bite of freedom that I always feel when I fly under the radar. But it wasn't worth it. I'm not sure if it would ever really be worth it, but it's so habitually ingrained that it seems near impossible to stop. Fighting an addiction you can't get rid of; that bullet of adrenaline swallowed down like a pill.

"Girls, I'm real tired." I mumble, hinting desperately at sleep. They hum their agreements and get settled, all three of us piled underneath Eleanor's comforter.

My two friends fall asleep relatively quickly, slipping underneath the wave with slowed breaths and gentle subconscious twitches. It doesn't come to me as easy. A grainy, dewy image of Stan's drunken face cast across the underside of my eyelids, appearing like a horror film every time I close my eyes. The chilling connection of violent skin reverberating in my ears. Harry, Harry, Harry. Phantom voice murmuring quiet reassurance. Ladybug. I roll onto my side with a silent groan, digging my cheek against Eleanor's back until sleep finally sweeps at me.

Wednesdays were always free bowling night at Lightning Strike. A fact that typically didn't impact my days, or weeks. But, as I pull in the driveway after work, a little blue Mustang catches my eye, filling in the spot behind my car.

"Deli, we're going bowling." Dorothy says matter-of-factly as she shuts the passenger door behind her. Eleanor follows suit, both girls following me up the front path.

"And what if I don't want to go bowling?" My question earns me a gentle swipe to the shoulder and a rainfall of laughter.

"You're going." Eleanor opens the front door on her own accord, calling out a greeting to my parents before I even have the chance to.