Indie

I’M STUCK IN THE SAME SPOT for a while. Frozen. Like it’s all just a movie and the viewer on the other side of the screen pressed pause. It’s quiet. So quiet you can hear the splat of the blood as it drips from Kade’s nose to the wooden floors. 

Scarlett’s scoff brings me back. Reminds me that it’s real. That this is all real. When I turn to glance at her, she’s leaning against the wall behind me as she watches the scene play out in front of her with her arms folded across her chest. There’s vague annoyance in her features, like this is all just a big inconvenience for her when she just wanted to drink her coffee. 

Jem’s jaw is tight as he steps forward with his back still to me as he faces Kade. He doesn’t turn to give me a second glance. And from his stance alone, it’s obvious that he’s angry. Very angry. He flexes the inked fingers on his right hand, like he hasn’t punched someone in a while. A thin coat of blood covers the tattoos on his knuckles. Finally, he speaks. 

“How many times did she ask you to let go?” 

Panic lights up Kade’s eyes as they meet mine. He doesn’t say anything, just clutches his nose, blood drips down his hand, staining his white collared shirt.

Jem’s jaw tightens, hid voice deadly, “How many fucking times?”

“Jem,” I say, tugging on the back of his arm. “I’m fine.”

The last thing I wanted was for Kade to receive another blow from Jem and end up in hospital. Or Kade to press charges. 

Jem turns, still not meeting my gaze. His eyes zone in on the darkening bruise on my wrist, and I instinctually pull down the sleeve of my shirt.

Anger flares briefly in Jem’s storm-grey eyes as he faces Kade again. “Touch her again,” Jem says, “I fucking dare you.”

Slowly, Kade straightens. His hand holds his bloody nose. I’m about to get him a tissue or something, but when I turn, Scarlett pins me with a glare that says don’t you fucking dare. Then she sizes up at Kade from across the room.

“You’re messing up our floor,” Scarlett mutters. “And you need to leave. Like I said about a hundred times already.”

Kade meets my gaze again, but I don’t say anything, ultimately agreeing with Scarlett. There’s a flicker of betrayal in his gaze, but it shouldn’t even exist. He’s not the victim in this situation. Not by far. I don’t feel anything for him other than pity. He swallows, then glances between Jem and I again. 

He looks like he’s about to say something to me. His mouth is slightly ajar and I know that whatever’s going to come from it can’t be anything good, but before he can, Jem steps in the way, completely shielding me from Kade’s line of sight. 

A few seconds pass by, and Kade walks out. 

I don’t see it, but I hear his heavy footsteps and the door shut. I genuinely hope it’s the last time I see him. And just like that, the tension dissipates from Jem’s shoulders. It’s a while before he finally turns. When he does, there’s an unrecognisable emotion amidst the grey in his eyes. 

Scarlett pushes off the wall, then grabs her coffee mug from the kitchen counter and walks to her room, mumbling something about cold coffee on the way. She shuts the door behind her casually, like nothing happened. Jem’s gaze burns my face, but he doesn’t say anything. I’m still in shock, and my throat is dry. I can’t find any words.

Wordlessly, Jem reaches for my hand. I ignore the sparks fluttering up my spine. The simple action sends adrenaline rushing through my bloodstream. He pushes up the sleeve of my shirt, revealing the bruise that’s getting darker by the second. You can see the imprint that Kade’s fingers left on my skin. His jaw clenches.

I swallow the dry knot at my throat, finally finding my voice. “Hey, at least you know my pain threshold now.”

It’s stupid, and I probably shouldn’t have said it, but I guess I was just trying to break the tension or something. I don’t know. Jem’s eyes flicker up to mine and narrow, burning at the edges slightly. His hand falls from my wrist and he huffs out a breath, shaking his head. 

He walks around me, to the fridge. “Do you have anything frozen?”

I frown at the question, but answer anyway. “We have some frozen peas.”

He doesn’t question it, just nods, pulling away, walking towards the kitchen.Gripping onto the freezer handle, he takes out the packet from the top shelf before walking my way. I quickly realize what he’s about to do, and I take a step back. “I don’t need that.”

“Sit down and place it on your arm until the swelling goes down,” Jem orders.

“It’s too cold—” 

He gives me a hard look, and I sigh, taking the peas from him. I sit on one of the barstools at the kitchen oasis, and placing the frozen peas on my wrist. It’s so cold that I flinch, but it does relieve the inflammation a bit.

I frown as he takes a few steps back, then I realise he’s heading to the door. For a second I think he’s going to leave, and my heartbeat spikes. But he only picks up his discarded duffel bag before gently brushing past me to the heating system. 

He’s still going to fix it?

I stay quiet and awkwardly just sit on a barstool and watch as he pulls out a cloth from his bag and wipes his inked knuckles clean before working, not acknowledging me or saying anything. 

I tilt my head towards his hands. “Do you need a bandage or something?” 

He doesn’t respond.

I take it that he likes to work in silence and that he’s not ignoring me and leave him be. Time moves by, fast and slow all at once, fast because of how quick my heart beats because he’s here and slow, almost torturous because he refuses to talk to me. When a quick glance at the clock tells me that almost an hour has passed, impatience claws up my throat, and I speak.

“Are you mad at me?”

Jem doesn’t face me and continues to unscrew the nails holding the cover to the heater. He works in silence as I watch him check colored wires and switches. 

As fascinating as it is to watch him work in full concentration, it’s also annoying, now that I know for sure that I’m being ignored. I press on. “You’ve been here for like an hour and you haven’t said a word to me.”

Still no response. 

I sigh. “Jem I’m sorry you had to see that, okay? He’s never—” I pause, trying to pick my words carefully. “He’s never done something like that before. I don’t know why he was acting like that.”

Jem tightens his jaw and slowly loosens it. He stares at me — for a few seconds, frustration lining his features.

“I’m not—” He breaks off, irritation marring his face. “Fuck, I’m not mad at you, Indigo. I don’t think I could ever really be mad at you. He — he fucking hurt you. And looking at you for a second longer makes me want to — fuck.” Another frustrated pause. “I would’ve — I would’ve fucking killed him, do you know that? I would have killed him. I don’t think you understand.”

I shake my head, slowly, because I do understand. He wants to defend me but he’s shocked at how far he’ll go to do it. And honestly? I am too. I should be scared — that a single well-placed, well-powered punch from Jem was enough to probably break Kade’s nose. The image of his bloodied face and the sound of the blood dripping to the floor is steam-pressed into my mind. 

And if he could hurt Kade, an able-bodied male, I can’t even imagine the kind of damage he could do to me. But my brain rejects the idea almost as immediately as it conceives it. Because Jem Valentine would never hurt me. Not physically, at least. I’m not sure about a lot of things, but I’m sure about this.

Jem shuts the grid with a bang and picks up the remaining tools on the floor. His gaze stays on me for a few seconds, almost too serious, before he averts it. “It’s done.”

My heart jumps in my chest. “So quick?”

There’s a dull amusement to his eyes. “I’ve been here for more than an hour, Indigo.”

Right. I guess even a torturous hour of him not talking to me is better than him not being there at all, apparently. And now that my heating’s fixed, he has no reason to come over any more. No reason to be here. With me.

For a brief second, I find myself wondering if he thinks this is too much, if I’m too much. If he thinks it would just be better if he just let me be. 

Jem walks over, a strange look on his face. As if he's contemplating something. And just like that, he leans forward, and my heart stutters. And he places his lips on my forehead for the briefest moment, and my stomach erupts. His voice is low and gravelly as his breath brushes against my skin. “Bye, Indie.”

I swallow, mustering up an almost inaudible, “Bye.”

But he’s already halfway out the door.

I don’t know how he does it — how he seems to read my mind and pinpoint my exact point of fear or insecurity, root it out, bring it to the surface. and comfort me all at the same time. And now? My forehead is burning from the place his lips touched me with the fire of a thousand suns and I don’t know how to breathe or what to think.

Thankfully, my phone rings, pulling me out of an almost certain downward spiral. I pull out my phone, swiping at the screen. It’s Mae, and I already feel calmer. I walk out of the lounge and to my bed, burying myself under my blanket. Now that the heating is fixed, I don’t feel like I’m freezing to death in my room anymore.

“Hello?” Concern is etched in her voice. “Indigo?” .

“H —” 

She interrupts me before I can say anything more. “Are you okay?”

I frown. “Yeah…why?”

Mae exclaims, “Because Kade just —” 

I pause. “Wait, how do you know about Kade?”

There’s an empty silence at the other end. But by the time she says it, I've already figured out the answer. Scarlett may act like she doesn’t care but she apparently cares enough to inform Mae about my life in detail. 

“Scarlett,” she admits weakly.

And despite myself, I can’t help the smile that finds my lips. “Scarlett, huh? You know I want to ask you something —” 

“I know exactly what you want to ask me and we can talk about it later. I just want to know if you’re okay.”

Instinctively, I pull down the sleeve of my shirt. The bruise is still there, but the swelling went down considerably. Thanks to the frozen peas. “I’m okay, Mae. It’s just a bruise. I’ve dealt with, like, thousands of these before. It’ll go away.”

Mae’s indignation blares through the phone. “Just a bruise? Just a bruise? Do you realise what you sound like right now, Indigo? You sound like someone who needs some serious psychological intervention. On some real Maddy-Nate type shit.”

I grin, then sober up. “Okay one, I bruise easily, you know that. And two, I’m never getting back with Kade. It’s over. And after what he pulled today —”

“After what he pulled you should file a freakin’ restraining order! What the hell is actually wrong with that asshole?”

I sigh. “I don’t know. I think he’s losing it.”

I can vividly picture Mae’s annoyed face at the other end, and even if it shouldn't, it amuses me. “He cheated on you, Indigo. Then he literally assaulted you while Scarlett was there. She told me he only stopped when Jem —” 

“Yeah.” 

Jem. Just the thought of him sends a warm rush through my chest, and sends my mind reeling to a few minutes ago, when he placed his lips on my forehead. If I could live the same moment over and over, I don’t think I’d mind. 

“What’s going on with you and Jem, anyway?” Mae asks the question like she's been wanting to ask all winter break.

“I, uh,” I murmur, “It’s complicated.”

Obviously. I called him the night I broke up with Kade after finding out he cheated with me. I hadn’t seen him in three months, during which I was miserable but still stuck with Kade for some absurd reason. I clearly was on some, as Mae stated, Maddy-Nate type shit.

“Look, Indigo. I like him, okay. I think he’s good for you. But I think you should take it slow. I don’t  .  . . I don’t want you to get hurt. But move on. Ugh, this is so conflicting. I guess what I’m trying to say is, you should definitely move on, but take it slow.”

“I know what you mean. And I think . . . I think you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right,” she mutters, “Anyway, on a better note, I’ll be back for new years, by the way. We’re partying for NYE and you can’t say no.”

I grin. “Why would I say no?”

“Because you’ve been saying no way too often for the past three months.”

I make a face. “Because I was in a depressive state. And now I need to fix my life.”

“Yeah, you kinda do need to get your shit together. Did you find a tutor?”

“One that my boyfriend isn’t cheating on me with?” I laugh, then sober as I realise how un-funny my jokes are as of late. “No.”

Mae’s silent on the other end for a while. “You know, sometimes I really wonder about your sanity.”

I roll my eyes. “Like you’re so sane.”

But Mae’s right. I do need to get my shit together. So, I pull up my laptop and some ointment, and start researching tutors until I find one that’s perfect. Mae helps me, offering a quick ‘no’ or ‘yes’ after I’ve read their resumes out loud to her. 

“Well, alright then,” I say, opening up my email to shoot them a message. And with a click of a button, it’s done.

“I gotta go, Indigo. My family wants to go to a group therapy class. But it’s actually just gamblers’ anonymous. I think my grandmother’s a compulsive gambler.” 

I laugh. “Have fun.”

“Stay safe,” she warns.

With one thing ticked off the checklist that’s been lying dormant on my desk for the last three months, I feel like my life is finally heading in an okay direction.