the girl in red

xvii. ramblin' man

(a/n: the first jeff/izzy chapter.  woooo.  gotta get used to writing from his pov so it might not be the best) 

Saturday, December 28th, 1975

Lafayette, Indiana

The quilted blanket rubbed against Jeff's skin until he threw it off with a frown, replacing it with the thin blanket bunched on the ground. The heater had decided to stop working to its full potential in the middle of the night and cold encapsulated the house, and especially his room - the window never fully closed, and he currently had a shirt stuffed in the tiny slit. He burrowed into the gray cotton pillow and pulled the covers up to his neck, holding them there with tight knuckles. The digital clock on his oak nightstand read seven-thirty, the red numbers obnoxiously bright. It was usually covered halfway by a spare tissue, but it had been thrown away by his mom when she found it made his nightstand look "dirty".

The joy of Christmas - and the holiday season - had long wore off over the past few days. All that was left was Christmas service if his mom remembered. He hoped she didn't, but she always did. It was one of few times they went to church, yet Sonja would often say she was a christian. Jeff didn't say so. They went on Easter, Palm Sunday, and Christmas. Maybe a few times here and there if his grandma was in town and forced them to go. He thought the local church was horrible anyways, run by a man he didn't fully trust. He knew that the man was Bill Bailey's father, but that was it. But he wasn't blind to the bruises like everyone else was - he had common sense.

Despite his silent prayers, his mom came knocking on his door minutes later. He uttered out a weak come in and she pushed the door open, peering inside. Her hair was in curlers and a layer of gold eyeshadow dusted her eyes, and Jeff groaned.

"Get up, hon. It's time for church," Sonja said, her voice as golden as the powder above hazel eyes.

He groaned again and turned, burrowing his face in the pillow. Sonja sighed and repeated her earlier words, earning an annoyed thumbs-up from Jeff. She finally walked out, closing the door behind her and moving onto the rooms of his brothers. Minutes passed before the bed finally squeaked and the light of the lamp illuminated the room. Clothes were strewn all over - he had been too lazy to clean - and dust had settled on dressers and shelves. The covers fell off him, piling in his lap, and he stretched loudly, reaching up towards the ceiling and revealing a surprisingly pale stomach. A huff escaped his lips and he swung his legs over the side of the bed, stretching one last time before standing. The floor was cold and he rubbed his arms, fingers scraping over goosebumps.

Jeff ran a hand through his hair and down his face. He pulled gunk from his eyes and rubbed them red before he took the few steps to the fan light. He pulled the chain to turn on the light and winced away from it, walking half-blindly to his dresser. It rattled when the top drawer was tossed open and the rack inside squeaked. He tossed a pair of underwear behind him before he reached for the next drawer, searching around for his nicest pair of jeans. Jeff didn't want to go to church, sure, but he'd make himself presentable. He remembered seeing some cute girls at Easter service and he didn't want to risk it.

He tossed those behind him, too, before moving to his closet. Too many shirts were pushed aside before his hand brushed a blue and white button-up. He pulled it off the hanger and tossed it to the pile as he pushed the closet door shut. He didn't like having it open. Pajamas were tossed aside into a little bin by the wall and the clothes were picked up off the ground and slipped on. A belt slipped through the loops on his jeans but the button-up was left un-tucked and hanging far over his pockets. He didn't fill it - or anything - out properly. He was tall, but that was all he had going for him, in truth.