Sweet Soul (Sweet Home 4)

I listened to his words and nodded my head. I knew he was right, but I didn’t know how to do it. I knew for sure that going to frat parties and getting piss drunk wasn’t it. But I didn’t want Axel to worry. All he did was worry about me, and even though he had made a shit ton of mistakes in our lives, he didn’t deserve my burden.

“I’ll try.” Then I forced myself to say, “Lo giuro.”

Axel sighed in relief. “That’s good, kid. That’s real fucking good.” He turned on the engine. “Now, where the fuck is this frat house? I know the area, but I need the address.”

I reeled off the address, and we arrived out front of the house a few minutes later. As the car came to a stop, Axel said, “Have a good time, yeah?”

Forcing a smile, I said, “Yeah, catch you later, Axe,” and got out of the car.

The large house was overflowing with students, most of the team drunkenly spilling out onto the lawn. I walked forward until Axel was out of sight. Then, as I looked up at the teeming house, my feet came to a dead stop.

This wasn’t my thing at all.

I wanted to show Axel and Austin I could do this, but the more I stared at students making out, kegs being cracked open as everyone stumbled around the lawn, I knew I couldn’t go in.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, I knew it would be Ashton, again. Making a split-second decision, and before I was seen, I lifted my hood over my head and ducked out onto the street. I set into a run, my Wide Receiver speed soon taking me well away from the frat house. Slowing down to a jog, then a gradual walk, I tucked my hands into my pockets and just followed my feet.

I couldn’t go back home yet, so I would walk.

I would walk until enough time had passed that my brothers would be fooled into thinking that I’d at least tried. Tried to be the normal kid I knew I could never be.

* * * * *

A couple of hours later, I’d found myself near a group of bars. I’d walked aimlessly, down street after street, just passing away the time. People were falling out of the nearby bars; loud music was blasting out of a pub on a corner. I watched the many groups of students filled with laughter. The smell of smoke and alcohol wafted in the cool night air.

Seeing a Starbucks up ahead, I tucked my hands into the pockets of my hoodie and made my way across the road. I was about to approach the door, when I heard the sound of a male voice coming from the alley in between the coffee house and a deli.

At first I put it down to a drunken man stumbling around in the dark, until I heard a dull crash and the sound of a muffled, pained female shout. I immediately backed away from the door and arrived at the mouth of the alley. It was pitch black, except for the dim light of a street lamp on the other side of the alley wall. A quick movement immediately caught my eye. The male voice growled low again. This time, the female cry was loud and distinct.

Without thinking I raced down the alley, quickly catching sight of a man pinning a girl against a brick wall. I couldn’t hear what he was saying, but I could guess what he was trying to do.

Without thinking I lunged at the man, gripping his shoulders and throwing him to the ground in one motion. His body hit the floor with a thud, and I turned to see him pushing himself to get up. I got a good look at his puffed up alcohol-laden features, his dirty clothes and his filthy skin. Clenching my hand into a fist, I plunged it straight into his face.

I heard the distressed girl cry once again. Whipping my head round, I saw her curled into a ball at the furthest corner of the alley’s wall. I could hear her heavy stuttered breathing, then she started coughing a rough and chesty cough.

I heard footsteps echo down the alley, and when I glanced back to the drunken attacker, I saw him running toward the busy sidewalk. I was about to run after him, when the girl in the corner started coughing again, only this time she couldn’t stop.

Focusing on the girl, I carefully approached and crouched slowly down behind her. “Are you okay?” I forced myself to ask. Adrenaline squashed any shyness I felt.

The girl didn’t respond. Slowly reaching out, I lay my hand on her back. The girl cried out and tried to push herself further into the corner. “It’s alright,” I said and pulled my hand back, “he’s gone. The guy that attacked you is gone. I won’t hurt you.”

Despite my friendly manner, the girl didn’t seem to realize I was no threat. I sat back, waiting patiently to make sure she was okay. Only then did I finally concentrate on how this girl was dressed—black ripped jeans, leather jacket, strands of scraggly blond hair…

It was her.

As if sensing my recognition of who she was, the girl slowly turned around, and her eyes widened as she saw me before her. They were bright blue and perfectly round. She recognized me too, I could see it written all over her face.

The girl whipped her eyes around the alley, frantically searching every inch. “He’s not here,” I repeated. But she seemed to not hear what I’d said. Her neck stretched out, her wide eyes continuing to rove all around us, when I placed my hand on her arm. Her eyes snapped to mine. “He’s gone,” I said again, slower this time. Her huge doe eyes were intent on my lips.

The girl froze, then released a long shuddered exhale.

I stared and stared. Knowing she had taken my mamma’s rosary should’ve made me mad as all hell. But seeing her here, so small and afraid, curled into the alley wall, hiding under a sloped edge of roof, took away any hate I could harbor. Her hood was covering her head, shielding most of her face. But I could see, even in the dark of the alley, that her skin was pitted with dirt. Even through that dirt, I could see her skin was pale.

Too pale.

Concern overcame my shyness, and I asked, “Are you sick?”

As if answering my question, the girl bent forward and coughed like her lungs were failing. She coughed and she coughed until the sound of her cough was both hoarse and wheezy.

I clenched my fist, resisting the urge to put my hand on her arm. She was so thin and frail, bundled up in wet blankets, vainly trying to keep warm. Her clothes were ripped to pieces and completely worn out. As I stared at her, she wrapped her arm around her waist as if to keep herself upright. I tipped my head up to look at the torrential rain. I felt the increasing cold wind bluster in the narrow alley. I knew I couldn’t leave her here, not like this.

She needed help and she needed it fast.

Shifting myself around until I was directly in front of her, I dipped my head until I could see her eyes under the hood of her sweatshirt. A threadbare black scarf was pulled half way up her face; only her dull blue eyes were visible. As her harsh cough faded out into a deep graveled wheeze, I said, “Please listen to me.”

But her eyes never lifted at my request. They stayed large and dazed, pupils dilated, focused on the ground beneath our feet.

My concern deepened.

Inching further forward, I waved my hand in front of her face. The girl jumped again, but her eyelids fluttered at the movement until, finally, her attention was focused on me.

Making sure she could hear me, I explained, “I’m going to help you.” I immediately thought of Lexi, and knew she would come to the girl’s aid. We could get her to Kind. We could get her a doctor, a place that she could stay.

I reached into my pocket for my cell, but when I pressed the screen it was dead. I sighed in frustration.

The girl’s eyes watched my lips. “I’m going to call for help.” As I told her those words, her face fell and she shook her head. Using her hands on the soaking wet ground, she pushed herself further back against the wall.