Bubbles

Chapter 6

Lucy

Here she is, again.
I still have no idea why she comes out this late, or why no one has told her it's dangerous.
She's shivering, just like last time. I pull my bike up to the kerb and tug off my helmet.
She doesn't look up.
I demount, and focus on how her golden hair flickers in the wind.
Quietly, I go to sit beside her, feeling the hard chill of concrete against my ass.
How does she sit here, like this? Don't people naturally avoid the cold?
"Lucy," she starts. "I shouldn't have told you."
I study her face, though all I can see at this angle is her chin and the tip of her nose.
I struggle over what to say - I don't want to alarm her. "Penny, are you okay with it? Do you like it when he... does that?"
I bite my lip, feeling that sickness again.
She shudders, and leans her head against my shoulder.
"No."
"Why do you let him?"
"He says it will help, Lucy. It's better. I just think about bubbles."
Her position changes unexpectedly, so that her forehead is pressed against my neck and her arms are tight around my waist.
My heartbeat becomes irregular and I kick myself mentally. No one affects me. I'm Lucy Hale. I do the affecting.
I pat her back with my right hand.
"How will it help, Penny? What does he say?"
"He says..." She seems to choke over her words. "It will make me like boys."
Heat rushes to my face, and my muscles harden with adrenaline.
She feels it. "It's fine, honestly. Really. It doesn't hurt, that much."
I close my eyes to force the anger back.
"Look, sweetheart - I mean, hard heart. Or whatever. You need to get home, or you'll get ill. I promise I can help you fix this."
I twist round, detach her from me and take her by the shoulders. It almost physically hurts to see tears streaking from her pretty eyes. She mumbles something that I don't catch and, sensing that I haven't heard her, repeats it:
"I don't want to go home."
I'm replying, before I even know what I'm doing: "Right, well, you're coming to my place. Mickey won't mind you there. Come on, let's go."