Page 128 of Voices

When I bite my tongue to keep from snapping at her, she rolls her eyes and walks to the front door.

She stops as she reaches the door and turns back to me. “Fine but I’ve seen him like this before and if you keep letting him do whatever he wants, don’t come crying to me in two weeks when he’s so depressed that he won’t even open his eyes.” Her voice gets louder with every word. “Or when he gets a random burst ofenergy and uses it to barricade himself in that room and lets his dark thoughts win!” She points to my room, breathing hard.

I clench my jaw as she storms out, slamming the door behind her.

She’s crazy if she thinks I’m just going to sit around and watch him get lost in the darkness in his head.

He stays curled up under the blankets for the rest of the day while I do homework. I uncover him around six and try to get him up again, but he growls at me, covering his head.

Blowing out a defeated breath, I set the bag with his art supplies next to him on the nightstand.

“Your art stuff is right here. I’m stepping out for a bit. Please try sitting up.” I watch as he doesn’t say or do anything.

Biting the inside of my cheek, I walk out of my room, closing the door just hard enough so he knows it’s closed. I hope he uses his art to express whatever is going on in his head.

I’m startled when I turn and find three sets of eyes watching me from the living room. They give me sympathetic looks as I sit down on the couch.

“Have you guys eaten? We picked up a few pizzas on our way back.” Matt points to the kitchen.

I shake my head.

‘Has he been up at all,’ Asher signs.

“Just once to go to the bathroom. He’s been hiding under the covers for most of the day.”

They nod, looking sad.

“Well,” Ryder says from his chair, “Benji was no help. He swore up and down that he didn’t know who did that to Charlie and that he didn’t even know he was hurt.” He rolls his eyes. “When I asked him why he didn’t check up on him when they didn’t ride back together, he shrugged and said he thought one of their drivers brought him back because Charlie didn’t wantto wait for him. Fucking idiot.” He shakes his head, clenching his jaw. “When I told him how messed up Charlie is, he didn’t even look concerned. Just said that we’re wasting our time on someone who doesn’t want help and that he’ll drag all of us down with his ‘fake mental problems’. He even did air quotes like he doesn’t believe Charlie’s mental health is real.”

I can feel the anger coming off him.

“Matt had to hold me back from pummeling his face. Then the fucker laughed. Laughed! If Matt didn’t pull me away and had Ash not stepped between me and that fucking asshole, I would have a broken hand right now.” He’s seething, fists bunched on his thighs.

I look over to Matt and then Asher, both equally as pissed. I feel the same, thankful these guys have my back.

“Thanks for doing this. I still don’t believe he didn’t have a part in what happened though. He might not have physically hurt Charlie but the way he reacted tells me he did something else to get in his head. Charlie feels deeper than most and he holds onto everything, blaming himself even if he’s the one that got hurt.” My eyes start to sting. Blinking rapidly, I clear my throat. “I hope he’s not blaming himself right now.”

Matt grabs my knee and looks me in the eye. “You’re his safe space. His body needs to heal, and he knows you’re here to protect him so he’s probably sleeping a lot because he doesn’t have to worry about anything right now.”

I smile at him in thanks.

“I give him until Tuesday then I bet he’ll be up and moving around again,” Matt grins.

I hope so.

Charlie got up once on Monday and had half of a sandwich before he laid back down for the rest of the day.

He only took a few sips of water on Tuesday before telling me no more.

I got him to sit up on Wednesday and he dragged his feet as I helped him to the bathroom. I planned on taking a shower with him but by the time we made it to the bathroom, he was shaking from the effort. After he pissed and I carried him back to bed, he told me to go away before covering himself under the blankets.

I had to plead with him on Thursday to drink some water and take a few bites of toast. It took fifteen minutes for him to eat half before he rolled over, claiming he was tired.

It’s Friday and we have an away game that’s about two hours away. I need to leave for the bus in an hour, but I need Charlie to get up before I leave.

My sheets smell horrid from Charlie’s sweat and musk over the past week. He hasn’t let me get him close to the shower without his legs giving out. But I can’t take the smell anymore.

I have the tub filled with warm water scented with eucalyptus and lavender. Walking to the edge of my bed, I breathe through my mouth as I pull the blankets off his curled-up body. The smell is so pungent that I have to take a step back to gather myself.

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