Natural Chemistry

Chapter 19: Fight For Him

I left Vince with a set of fresh clothes and instructed him to take rest.

My hair clung to my face with sweat and dirt, I cringed at my appearance in the mirror. My once white shirt was stained with blood that had dried out turning a brown colour making me nauseous. Not wanting to let the material stick to me any longer, I took the shirt off along with the rest of my clothes. The warm water of the shower helped me scrub off all the grime on my body. I lathered up with twice the amount of body wash I would usually use.

I stepped out of the washroom feeling clean and blood free. Just as I tugged on my sweats, a knocked sounded.

"Melissa, I'd like you to come out please." I froze at the sound of the timid voice of my mother.

"What's up, mom?" I asked casually leaning against the door frame and grinning at her nonchalantly.

"I'll tell you, an injured boy looking very close to a jail escapee is dressed in your father's clothing and is resting in our guest room rather comfortably. How is that for a situation?" She raised her eyebrow challengingly at me, taunting me to say one thing wrong.

"He's a friend, mom, he was hurt. I couldn't shirk my responsibility in this matter. It's not like he committed any crime-"

"Yet."

"Mother!"

"What do you expect me to think, Melissa? He could be dangerous!" She exclaimed. She let out a breath and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"I want him gone before your father comes home."

"I can't do that. If you must know, he is the one who got stranded with me in the forest. Atleast be grateful of that before you bury him with your prejudices." I snapped, I held back a glare looking straight in her eyes.

"Let Robert come home then, I will not take any responsibility for his actions. As for your friend, I think one chance is all he'll get from us." She didn't say anything more as she turned on her heel and left.

I left out a breath I didn't know I was holding. I protected him now, but what if mom was right? I didn't know how he got his injuries or who gave it to him. Vince was dangerous, just how much?

I left my room to go to the kitchen and get some food for him to eat. My dad shouldn't be home for another hour or two but now that I'm sure the news of the newcomer has fallen to his ears, he'll be racing home.

I assembled a ham sandwich, took out a piece of cake from the fridge and balanced the plate on my hand to the guest room.

The door to the guest room was the same mahogany as the rest of the wood work in the house yet, it stood in the light like a new object of uncertainty. Perhaps the fact that my knock was no short of a horror movie commencing was causing me to shake a little.

"Yes?" He asked in a hesitant voice. I pushed the door open and I knew all my trembles we're gone, maybe my mom is right but a strong instinct in me assured me that he never hurt me.
Man is a being of instinct, right?

"Feeling any better? I got you some food." I placed the tray on the bedside ignoring the fact that Vince was no longer in bed but seated on the chair on the end fiddling with his phone.

"I'm feeling great, thank you. I'm sorry for all this, you were never meant to see me like that." I frowned some more noticing how normal he seemed, like it was an every second day occurrence. He didn't care that he got hurt but the fact that I saw him in that state, it made my heart ache a bit more.

"Is this because of the street fighting?" I asked in a small voice.

"Of sorts." Vince came up to me and placed a hand on my cheek.