𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐏𝐄𝐃 𝐈𝐈; flipped

𝗧𝗪𝗘𝗟𝗩𝗘; 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗅𝖾𝖾𝗉𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋

||꒰𝒋𝒖𝒍𝒊𝒂𝒏𝒏𝒂꒱||

I was pretty shocked that my parents allowed me to have a boy stay the night in my room. I suppose, though, that I've never lost their trust and I don't plan to.

I watched as Bryce unpacked a few of his things at the side of my bed. "Is there somewhere I can, uh, put my clothes, or something? I kinda just shoved a bunch of stuff into a backpack and left." I guess he was in a hurry to escape his parents.

"Yeah, the third drawer on my dresser is empty if you wanna use that," I replied with a warm smile. I couldn't help but remember the way his mouth fit to mine so perfectly.

Bryce walked ver to the dresser and folded his clothes neatly, placing them inside.

"Hey Bryce, I don't mean to pry, but I was wondering why... why you can't stay at home? I know your parents are fighting, but..." I felt rude asking, but I was too curious to resist.

His happy look contorted into one of unease. "Do you remember when you called my dad a coward?"

An odd question, sure, but I answered simply. "Yes, I do."

"Well, you were absolutely right," he said with audible distress in his voice. "He's angry, at himself, I assume. He drinks a lot. And he takes it out on me and my mom, and I'll bet my sister as well.."

That was what I least expected to hear. "Oh my God.. how bad is it?"

"All he's done so far is yell at me, but right before I left, my mom looked... off..." Bryce ran a nervous hand through his hair. "I don't know what to do."

"Hey," I said with a firm voice. "It isn't your fault. And I know it might feel like it, but it's not, and you don't have to fix it. I know it's hard, but it isn't your responsibility." He still looked unsettled. "It's okay to not be okay," I amended in a softer tone.

Bryce continued to fold his clothes. "I know, it's just really, really hard. And sometimes I just feel so alone."

"Sounds about like how I felt about the sycamore tree," I countered, shocked by the amount of spite in my reply. "Wait, I didn't mean it like that-"

"No, I deserved it."

And then there was silence, uncomfortable silence.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, shattering the stillness.

"Don't be," Bryce replied. "Not your fault."

In a sudden burst of confidence, I placed my hand on his as he sat next to me on the bed. Linking our hands, I exhaled sharply. "I'm just glad we could help out in some small way. You know, by letting you stay here and all..."

He smiled. "Yeah, but it isn't just a haven where I can avoid my dad. I can't say I'm opposed to staying here."

I giggled. "So cryptic!" Glancing around, I noticed he brought a math textbook. "I can, um, help you with math, if you want."

"Oh! Yeah, I was gonna ask about that..." His face reddened with embarrassment. I suppose he looked a bit like a tomato, but this wasn't something I should make fun of him for.

I could feel his eyes on me. "Don't worry about it; I'm more than happy to help. No one's good at everything."

•••

And so we studied until dinner, and to both of our delights, Bryce began to fully understand the concepts.

"Thanks again," he said as he closed the textbook. "I should probably pay more attention in class, though." We laughed at that.

"Kids! Food is ready!" I heard my mother call from down the hall.

So we went to the dining room to eat. As Mike and Matt were at Skyler's and my dad left to help more Uncle David out, it was just the three of us.

"How have you two been?" my mother asked politely. She bore a genuine smile, which made me even happier.

"Good," Bryce said smoothly as if he had practiced it. "Juli was just helping me out with the math homework. How have you been, Mrs. Baker?"

He was good at talking to adults. I hoped that my mom liked him. I know I did.

"Oh, I've been fine. Usual but of chaos, but nothing much," she replied.

•••

Dinner was easy, and my mother and Bryce got along well. Sometime in between finishing the math homework and showering and talking, I must've fallen asleep.