Charade

              “I need to get out of here,” he finally says. We leave the apartment and climb into the car. “Can you call Adrian?” He doesn’t look at me when he speaks, so he doesn’t see my nod.

I pick up my cell, call him. “Can you make sure the house is empty?” I ask. I can understand why Colt would want to make sure no one’s there when we get home.

              “Already done,” Adrian replies.

              I don’t know how he knew, but it doesn’t matter. “Thanks. We appreciate it.”

              “Take care of my boy,” I hear him inhale, shake my head, knowing he’s probably sucking weed into his lungs right now.

              “I will.” I try to put the phone in the cup holder, but it falls between the seats and to the floor. I leave it. It doesn’t matter right now. Nothing does except for Colt.

              His hand is on my leg the whole way home. I wonder if he needs that co

              As promised, the house looks empty when we get home. Dark. The porch light isn’t even on.

              Colt lets go of my leg and gets out of the car, but doesn’t move. I wish I knew what to do for him. A way to lessen the pain.

              Getting out, I walk to the other side of the car.

              “I can’t believe she’s fucking gone.” He leans me against my car like he did the wall earlier and holds me.

              His grip eases me. How easy would it be for him to run right now? I did when I found out about my mom and our situation was completely different. But he’s here. With me. Leaning on me and holding me.

              “I love you,” I tell him.

              “I—”

              “—Isn’t that fucking sweet?” A male voice comes from behind us. Colt instantly tenses.

              “She’s got him whipped. At least you were smart enough to keep someone fun on the side, G.”

              Colt whips around. I feel the anger rolling off of him.

              Gregory and three of his friends stand behind us. I smell beer. One of them has a bottle in his hand that he drinks from.

              I try to wrap my arms around Colt from behind. We don’t need this right now. “Let’s just go.”

He shakes me off.

              “Going to listen to your girl? Don’t have a big mouth like you did the other day?” This from Gregory.

              “Please fucking hit me, Pretty Boy. I’m begging you. I won’t even fight back at first,” Colt steps forward. Again I grab his arm and he pulls away.

              “Don’t do this.” I know this isn’t even fully about Gregory. He wants to hurt because of his mom. He wants to hurt someone else because of her. I look at Gregory and shout, “You have the worst timing ever. Leave him alone.”

              “Get in the car, Tiny Dancer.” Another step, but I’m right behind him.

              “What are you guys even doing here?” I stand next to Colt who again tries to push me behind him.

              “He’s always showing up where we party. Getting in our business so we thought it was time we returned the favor.” My stomach rolls at the sound of Gregory’s voice. I can’t even believe this is him. Was he always like this? Something college has done to him?

              “Are we just go

              Gregory stumbles backward.

              “What the fuck. Kick his ass, G!” One of his friends yells.

              “Don’t let that pussy get the best of you again!” Another says.

              It all happens so fast from there. Colt pushes me back as Gregory charges, hitting Colt across the middle. They both stumble. Fall backward. I watch him fall in slow motion…down…down. His head cracks loudly on the curb, Gregory on top of him. I scream, but it’s like my body’s gone into some sort of shock from disbelief. This ca

              Colt doesn’t move.

              “Holy shit!” Gregory scrambles off him. Everything seems normal. Colt looks normal, but it’s obvious he’s not. Gregory sees it too. “It was an accident. I didn’t fucking mean it!” He’s pacing.

Hot tears run down my face. There isn’t blood. Why isn’t there blood? I’m not sure if that’s good or not. My throat hurts, it’s raw as I scream and scream. I shove Gregory aside, drop and crawl to Colt. I touch his chest. Stomach. Want to pull his head to my lap, but don’t think I should.

              My tears hit him, puddling on his shirt. “Get help! Call someone!” I cry. Why isn’t he moving? Please let him move.

              “I’m getting the fuck out of here!” yells one of them.

              Tires squeal at the same time feet hit the ground ru

              Please don’t die, please don’t die, please don’t die. Over and over and over the words flow through my head.

              I scream, lean over and hold him. “Colt. I’m here. I’m going to get some help.” Then I’m fighting when someone tries to pull me away from him.

              “Cheye

              Adrian’s voice snaps me out of it. I jerk away as he lifts Colt up. His head flops to the side. “My phone. It’s in my car.”

              “Fuck it. We’re driving him there.”

              I run to Adrian’s car. I don’t know how I’m even going right now, but I know I have to. Have to do it for Colt.

              I rip the door open.

              “Get in,” Adrian says. He’s already laying Colt in the backseat as I try and scoot over. His head is in my lap. It doesn’t feel like there’s a big injury. I’m not sure if that matters. I keep feeling his pulse, checking his breathing.

              It feels like an eternity and at the same time, only a few seconds when we get to the hospital. I hardly remember the ride. I just hold Colt the way he held me in the car not too long ago. Tell him he’ll be okay. That I love him. Should we have moved him? What if we hurt him by moving him? Too many thoughts are slamming into me.

              Adrian’s out of the car and pulling Colt into his arms. We rush through the EMT entrance.

              “What are you—room three,” a nurse yells when she sees Colt in Adrian’s arms.

              I struggle to see through the tears blurring my vision. One of the doctors grabs Colt. They’re laying him on the bed. Two more nurses and a doctor rush in. My heart hurts. I gasp, trying to breathe.

              “Please help him.” I try to get into the room.

              “What happened?” someone asks.

              “He was pushed and hit his head on the curb.”

              One of them curses. “You’re going to have to get out of here.”

              Fear spikes inside me. “No! I’m not leaving him.” He wouldn’t leave me. I know he wouldn’t.

              “If you want to help him get out of here. Give them some information and give us space.” They rip the curtain closed.

              Adrian catches me as I fall. “They’re going to fix him. Let them do their job.”

              “He just lost his mom,” I sob. Please let him be okay. Please let him be okay. “I don’t want to leave him.”

              “You’re not,” he whispers in my ear. “You’re making it so they can take care of him. He knows you wouldn’t leave him.”

              My eyes find Adrian. His are bloodshot and I wonder if it’s from crying or being high. Whatever the reason, he’s somehow calming. And he cares about Colt. He’s a good friend.

              “Excuse me, miss? We need to get some information from you,” a dark-haired nurse asks.