11: Franny (1/2)

11. Franny

Turning down the volume on the TV, I glance over at Tyler. He looks peaceful as he sleeps and I'm thankful that I don't have to see his face creased in pain anymore. I cringe as I stare at his injuries. His eye is swollen shut and he's covered in red marks that will surely turn into large, painful bruises.

The past hour feels completely surreal.

I walk into the kitchen and look at the dining table, feeling a little sick as I see the drops of blood covering the floor and the side of the table. I remind myself to make sure the house is completely spotless by the time my dad shows up and that all traces of blood—and Tyler—are well out of the house.

I head into the foyer and grab my school bag which is hanging off the end of the banister. Reaching my hand in, I pick out my phone and press the main button. The screen lights up and shines into my eyes, making them sting. I squint and turn the brightness down immediately.

Most of the lights are off, apart from a lamp in the sitting room where Tyler sleeps, and the main light in the kitchen that flares out to me as I stand in the darkness by the front door. I look through my messages and then head straight to Tally's number.

I press the little green 'talk' button.

The phone rings through the silence and I'm thankful that Tyler fell asleep with the television on, so he can't hear me talking.

Tally answers on the fifth ring. ”Why are you ringing me? You've never called me before. You know I don't answer them.”

”What the hell were you thinking?” I hiss quietly, turning my back to Tyler and hunching in on myself, trying to block my voice from his ears.

”I see that you've reached the land of love and my plan has worked,” Tally says and I can just picture that suggestive smile on her face.

”You gave Tyler my address?” I ask with disbelief. ”You gave a random stranger my address?”

”He's not a stranger, Franny,” she huffs. ”He sits behind you in class. That's no stranger.”

”We've never spoken before!” I say.

”You were talking in history!” Tally fires back. ”And I could sense the chemistry. It was running like a damn waterfall. And don't you even think that I missed the tension rising between you two.”

”Tension?” I splutter.

”Hell yeah,” Tally snorts. ”There was so much tension I felt like I was going to spontaneously implode!”

”Were we in the same room or was this all in your head?” I ask. ”There was no tension and there was no chemistry. We spoke about two words to each other, so it isn't even classed as a complete conversation.”

Tally sighs and I hear her shuffling on the other end of the line. I take this time to turn and check on Tyler but he's hasn't moved at all, and his chest rises up and down slowly from his breathing. The bag of ice that I gave him is still in his grasp, hanging limply from the tips of his fingers.

”There was tension there, Franny,” Tally says again. ”Don't even try and give me some crap about me being crazy. I'm the doctor of love, honey, I know what tension is when I see it.”

”Love?” I gasp out and realize how loud I've become and quieten down immediately. ”You can't even hold a damn boyfriend!”

”Then I guess it helps that I have the option of a girl too, then!”

I choke on a laugh and put my hand over my mouth. ”Tally.” I grin. ”Oh my god.”

She chuckles on the other end. ”So . . . he actually went all the way to your house to give you homework?”

I look back over at Tyler and then down at the drops of blood that stain the floor at my feet. ”Um, yeah. Yeah, he did.”

”He's a keeper,” she says, and I smile a little. ”Is he still there?”

”No,” I say. ”He just left.”

”Did he stay long?” Tally asks. ”Did you have a good time?”

”We talked.” And I let him bleed all over the floor, poured peroxide over his cut so he was in immense pain and then bandaged him up before sharing a friendly pizza and letting him stay the night. ”Yeah . . . just talked.”

”Really?” Tally sighs. ”I offer you the perfect opportunity to finally communicate with a male and you end up just talking?”

”Isn't that what communicating is?” I mutter.

”Franny for once just try speaking my language. Body language.”

”Oh, ew, Tally, no.”

”See? You're totally a prude.”

I move the phone away and frown down at it. Am I a prude for not jumping the first guy that walks into my house? If Tally only knew he had limped in here bleeding almost to death . . .

”I don't speak your language, Tal,” I say.

”I can tell,” she laughs. ”Do you want me to come over? I'm bored shitless.”

I feel panicky all of a sudden and quickly turn Tally's offer down. ”Um . . . my dad doesn't want anyone over today. He's tired.”

”Got it,” Tally says. ”Alright, well, I better go. See you tomorrow.”

”See you,” I say. ”Bye.”

I drop my phone back into my bag. Walking back into the sitting room, I stop beside Tyler's head, reaching down to the table to grab the remote. I pick it up and turn the volume down further when a hand grabs my wrist, the grip cold and like iron.

Startled, I look down to catch Tyler's frenzied eyes looking at me. He's sweating and shaking and his grip on my wrist turns almost painful. I stay calm and take a deep breath and his eyes flick back and forth.

”It's me,” I whisper. ”Tyler . . . it's Franny.”

I watch his neck move as he gulps, and then stare back at his eyes that blink uncontrollably.

”It's Franny.” I slowly crouch down until my knees hit the floor and I'm level with Tyler's gaze. I place my hand on top of his own that painfully grips my wrist. ”Just me.”

His hand is cold beneath mine. His skin is rough and I feel the scabs along his knuckles. I look at his hands and I see the red marks against his pale skin.

”How did you get them?” I ask, indicating the red marks.

I look back at Tyler's face and his eyes are trained on me. He's suddenly like an animal—a crazed, wild animal that could pounce and tear my throat out any minute.

”Fight,” he says.

”You fight a lot.” He knows it isn't a question but he gives me one solid nod. ”But not as bad as today.”

He nods again. ”Not as bad as today.”

”What made it different this time?” I ask quietly.

He's silent for a moment and his hand moves out from under mine, his hold on my wrist releasing. ”I didn't know I would be fighting.”

I don't know what to say and instead feel stupid just kneeling on the floor beside him. I get up and move back until I'm a few feet away from him. I reach down and pick up the plate and the pizza box.

”You didn't sleep for very long,” I comment.