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Garrett was instantly dropped off that following night. Chandler and Rhiannon went straight to her house. Chandler had planned on staying the night there for a while, since they went to the same school.

Chandler was having parent problems and thought it might've been time to revive their close relationship. Rhiannon knew her aunt and uncle were bigger drunks alone than her dad ever was, let alone combined. Chandler had been in multiple physical fights with his dad, coming to her house at 3 am with black eyes and the urge for a cigarette. Nobody knew he smoked, and it didn't matter which house he was in. He'd blow through a pack a day, half in the morning, half at night. He'd open a window to air out the scent of tobacco. Sometimes it stuck to his clothes so he'd change.

He made a palette for himself on Rhiannon's carpet while she showered. It felt like sleeping on a rock. His spine ached beneath the hard ground, longing for some form of support. His fingers pulled the blanket up to his chin while he squirmed to settle into a comfortable position.

She came out of the shower with beads of warm water dripping off of her collarbones, the vapor escaping off into the air behind her as she walked. The clothes she wore stuck to her moist skin. She frowned at his choice of sleeping positions, scrunching her hair dry with a towel.

"You can take the bed. I'll take the couch. I just don't want you to sleep on something that feels like hell."

"Don't we all feel like hell after today?" He joked.

She pursed her lips into an expressionless grin, lowering her eyes and bending down to sit in cross cross position on the floor next to him.

She chunked the towel across the room. They both watched it land and wrinkle into the hamper.

"So what are you going to do tomorrow?" He asked, grabbing up the blanket and covering up his washed out legs.

"What do you mean?"

"Are you ever going to talk to Austin again?"

Her chest began to hurt.

"Probably not."

She didn't tell Chandler that Austin had been blowing up her phone with calls since she got in the shower. She turned off her phone instead of blocking his number. She didn't posses the guts.

"He was really rude." Chandler rumbled in a deep voice containing no sympathy for Austin's situation.

His assumption on him was already made. He was an ill-mannered, egocentric boy who liked to nark on Rhiannon's personal life.

Rhiannon had the sympathy, hence the reason why she couldn't block him. Or yell at him any more than she already had. He got on her nerves, but she knew he meant good. He meant good today when he did that to Garrett, or at least that's what she thought when she tried to see it from his point of view.

She had rejected the kiss. That showed to Austin that she didn't want Garrett to touch her, so he protected her. But who said she needed protecting? God, why couldn't things be easy.

Her feelings for Garrett were a flame, fizzing out at one minute and burning strong another. Austin ignited the flame with the way he hurt Garrett. The way Garrett refused to fight. Or maybe he just couldn't fend for himself...

"Don't you agree? What the hell have I missed. What was his problem?" Chandler interrogated.

"I don't know Chandler." She snapped at him.

His eyes wandered around the room while he reached for cigarettes from his back pocket. He pulled out a stick and put it in between his teeth. The cigarette moved to the other side of his mouth when he pulled out his lighter. He flicked it on, cupping the flame and setting the lighter back on the ground before raising two fingers to pluck the cigarette out of his mouth and breathe out a cloud of smoke. It drifted out of his parting lips. Embers sank to the carpet and faded out into black specks.

Sketch (Austin Abrams)Where stories live. Discover now