Kill or Tell

.iv.

"Beni!"

I look up from my backpack, locking eyes with Freddie Dresser - my boyfriend. Smiling, I let him sweep me up into a hug, wrapping my arms loosely around his neck and inhaling his sweet, lemony scent.

"Changed your shampoo?" I ask as I catch a whiff of sandalwood, scrunching my nose in distaste. He let's go of me, unconsciously touching his thick, coffee waves. Light blush tinges his cheeks as his long-lashed, hazel eyes stare intently at the linoleum floor.

He's adorable, I can't help but think as I watch him, the corners of my mouth curving upward in amusement.

"Chad said it was more manly," Freddie mumbles to my feet.

"Don't listen to Dicky." I poke his forehead, smiling. "More often than not, he's messing with you, you know."

Freddie brings his gaze level with mine, blinking. "I guess." For a moment, his expression reminds me of a kicked puppy, and I pet his soft - albeit sandalwood scented - hair.

"But if you like it, you can smell like sandalwood for the rest of your life, and I'll still love you." Cupping his red cheeks with my hands, I peck him gently in the nose before releasing him and returning to my backpack to pull out a few more textbooks.

Shutting my locker, I wrap my free arm around Freddie's waist, ignoring the way my heart stays steady.

It just means I'm used to this, yes?

*******
"Beni?" my mom says when I open the front door. With her back to me, she doesn't see Freddie. "You're home later than usual. I need you to get -" What she wanted me to get - the world may never know, because the minute she turned around, she caught sight of Freddie, and the second she caught sight of Freddie, she tensed, shoulder stiffening and lips tightening.

"Good afternoon, Mrs. Carthwyle," Freddie says cordially, fidgeting under my mom's - frankly judgemental - stare.

"Hello to you too, Winifred," she responds tersely, her eyes running over Freddie's baggy, masculine clothes with distaste.

Hoping to avoid any conflict, I merely say, "Freddie will be staying for dinner, Mom. We're going up to my room, now. Goodbye." Pushing Freddie in front of me, I retreat to my bedroom, slamming the door on my mother. "Bigoted witch," I mutter under my breath before turning to face poor, trembling Freddie.

"I nearly forgot about your mom," Freddie whispers, his voice soft as I go to hug him.

I don't really know what to say, so I squeeze him tighter, burying my face in his shoulder.

"Thing is," he continues, voice cracking, "I'd just started to forget about being Winifred too."

"You're not Winifred," I interject hotly. Letting go of him, I clench my teeth, plopping down onto my bed in annoyance. "You're Freddie. Freddie Dresser."

Freddie just offers me a tired, weary smile before crawling into my bed and resting his head in my lap.

"Remember when we used to have sleepovers in here?" he murmurs into my stomach, tickling me with his breath.

"Yeah, can't forget them." I run my hands through his hair, recalling when they were long and always in a ponytail. "You were such a blanket hog."

His laugh echoes through my room, bringing a smile to my face. "S'not my fault! You wanted me in your bed!"

Smacking his arm, I wrap him in a hug. "Yeah," I say, burying my head in his sandalwood hair. "True."

I can almost forget how judgemental my dear, ignorant mother is.

*******
Chaddick Dresser is a handsome young man with a nasty sense of humor and an even nastier temper that he just loves to vent on his poor little brother, so the cordial, pleasant manner he's portraying at the moment is so unexpected that I'm jittery.

On edge.

As Dicky chats with my mom, Freddie and I hide in my bedroom, our hands clasped together as we await the eventual harassment that will always follow any period of pleasantry involving Dicky Dresser.

"What's he up to?" Freddie whispers after ten long minutes in anticipation.

"Bodysnatchers," I mumble, curling into Freddie's side. "He's been body snatched, or whatever it's called."

Freddie stifles an anxious giggle as he plays with my hair, braiding it over and over again.

"I'm serious!" I hiss, narrowing my eyes at the door.

"Mhmm." Freddie undoes the braid before starting again, his fingers nimble as he deftly weaves thick strands of my hair together.

"So where were you yesterday?" he asks casually, unweaving my hair once more.

"Hungover."

"With Cassidy?"

"Yep."

"Missed a test or two." He watches me, eyes searching for something. I don't know what.

"Make ups Monday morning."

"Kay." There's a stretch of silence.

"I never want to get drunk again," I whisper, leaning into Freddie's waiting arms.

He hugs me, his arms tight around my body as we both think of the same, undeniable truth.

I'll do it if Cassidy wants me to.

I'd probably do anything if Cassidy wants me too.

But that's not something we talk about, so we just sit on the old, beige carpet of my bedroom, waiting for Dicky to call for Freddie - waiting in the unnerving calm before the storm.

{A/N Apologies if this chapter seems sloppy. I'm super anxious about school right now, and my writing might be affected. I don't know. Comment, vote, yada yada yada. Adieu my spoons. SPOON GODDESS OUT!}