Chapter Twelve: Needing To Apologize.
Sophia Crawford

“There you go again…” He stops laughing and throws his hands up into the air frustratingly, “…making assumptions about me.” He shakes his head at me. “I’m being serious, Sophia. Stop trying to figure me out. I won’t say it again.”

I scoff even though we had the conversation days ago.

I wasn’t even trying to figure River out, and what I said about him was true, I saw it myself in the bathroom: he is troubled, but he’s just denying it because he doesn’t want the world to know that he has feelings, emotions.

The kind of emotions people would laugh at him for because he’s a guy, so he doesn’t want to show weakness in front of people because they would think he’s weak, and therefore he doesn’t want to cry for help and thinks that whatever he’s battling at the moment, that he can battle it himself.

But look where that brought him.

He punched a mirror multiple times just weeks ago, not even caring that the sink was full of thick red blood running from the deep cuts on his knuckles. There were tears streaming down his cheeks, and his hands were shaking, and they weren’t even shaking from the cuts on his knuckles, his hands were shaking because he had a panic attack.

What would have happened if I didn’t show up in the bathroom?

He would have kept punching the mirror until all the skin on his knuckles came off, and that would have caused his hands to bleed out. If I didn’t show up, there would have been no one to save him from himself; there would have been no one to pull him out of the darkness that he was in.

Those weren’t just ‘assumptions’ I made, like he said.

It was the truth.

Yes, I might not know him well, but I know the signs when someone’s struggling, and River was really struggling in that bathroom weeks ago.

I shake my head.

This shouldn’t bother me this much. Hell, I shouldn’t care this much about the guy who has shown nothing but resentment toward me, but I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I didn’t at least try to help him, even though he’s the rudest, most calloused and cold boy I have ever met in my life.

I also know that it’s not my place to interfere in his life, but if I don’t help him, then who will?

No. I shouldn’t care anymore.

It’s River’s life; he can ruin it if he wants to.

The smell of eggs and bacon slips through the doorframe, making my stomach grumble loudly.

I stretch my limbs and get out of bed.

I walk over to my mirror and grab the hairbrush from the desk. I start to brush through the tangled strands of hair until the mess was untangled, and then tie my hair into a tight but messy bun at the back of my head.

I throw some outfit choices onto my unmade bed, scrunching up my nose in concentration as I was thinking about what I wanted to wear for today.

I finally decide on a pair of high-waisted flap pocket cargo jeans, a plain beige shirt, and threw on a round neck sweatshirt.

I go to the bathroom to brush my teeth.

After I was done getting ready for the day, I meet my grandmother in the kitchen where she was busy lifting scrambled eggs onto two pieces of toast.

“Morning.”

She turns around and smiles at me. “Morning, sweetie.”

“I feel bad.” I tell her.

She knits her eyebrows together in confusion. “Feel bad? Why?”

I sigh, blowing out a long breath. “About how River talked to you.” I tuck a strand of my hair behind my ear. “He was rude to you, in your own house. I should have never allowed him to come here.”

“It’s not your fault, sweetie.” She says, pushing the breakfast plate toward me. “I think we were in the wrong. We shouldn’t have spoken about him behind his back.” She says, grabbing two eggs from the refrigerator container and breaking them into the buttered pan.

“I know.” I sigh, spearing a piece of egg with my fork. “But he didn’t have to snap at you, in your own house. He was being rude and I won’t allow it.”

My grandmother places the pan onto the stove and turns to look at me. “Sophia, he wasn’t really being rude. We talked about him behind his back. We made assumptions about him. You would’ve felt the same way if he did it to you.”

I purse my lips, rolling my eyes. “I hate it when you’re right.”

“I thought about how we can make it up to him.” She suggests. “I baked some cookies last night and I’ve been meaning to take them to his aunt, but my day will be busy seeing that I have tons of errands to run today. So you can take it after school and apologize to him while you’re at it.”

I nearly choke on my piece of egg. It would have flown out of my mouth if I didn’t cover it in time. I cough after I chewed and swallowed, taking a sip of the orange juice beside my plate. “I am not going to his house.”

She senses my horror and actually laughs at me. “Yes, you are.” She says. “The cookies will get rock hard and inedible when it stands uneaten for too long. You have to take it to them this afternoon, while they’re still fresh.”

I place my fork down onto the kitchen island and put my head in my hands. “Are you really going to make me go to his house to deliver cookies?” I ask with my head still in my hands. The words came out muffled.

“You’re acting as if I’m sending you on a suicide mission, sweetie.” She laughs. “The Jenkins’s aren’t bad people. Penelope is the kindest person I know.”

“It’s not Penelope I’m worried about.” I mumble.

“Finish your breakfast.” She says. “Or you’re going to be late for school.”

• • •

I wish I could’ve known why River was the way he was, but every time I got a chance to talk to him at school, he either glared at me or he wasn’t at school at all.

Like today… he wasn’t at school today, and it made me worry.

Was I the reason he wasn’t at school today after what I implied days ago?

I guess I should have been relieved that he wasn’t at school today, but if he was, I could’ve apologized and not show up at his house like a real stalker with a basket of freshly baked cookies.

I inhale deeply and exhale sharply when I stop in front of his house.

Number Eighteen.

It was a cute house, a dream home for young, married couples. It has a working white picket fence around the property unlike ours that you had to literally force open, and the house was two storeys high, just like ours were.

There was a little garden up front with a different variety of flowers; a single door garage and a small jump-in pool in the backyard. There were dried leaves in the small pool, and the water was greenish-brown, telling me that no one has used that pool in a while.

I chuckle at myself, imagining River sitting in that pool with sunglasses on, but then again, I couldn’t actually see him in that kind of pool. River seemed like a beach person with his perfectly tanned skin and surfer-like blond hair.

I don’t know what I expected River’s house to look like, but this wasn’t it. I kind of expected it to look like his personality—cold and dark—not literally sunshine and roses.

I lick my lower lip nervously and open the latch for the gate.

I step inside and look around the yard, hoping that they didn’t have a Rottweiler patrolling around—ready to attack me on sight and eat me alive before I had a chance to apologize to him.

I release a relieved breath and walk down the paving that led to the front door.

There were no dogs, to my utter relief. Well, not outside, at least. I heard sniffing coming from inside, and before I knew it, a beautiful dog came into view; pushing the window’s blinds to the side with its snout. With the way the dog was wagging its tail at me, I immediately knew it was a sweet dog.

The door opens before I even got the chance to knock, and River’s aunt, or also known as the office lady, smiles widely when she sees me standing behind the door with the small basket of cookies in my right hand.

“Good afternoon.” I greet her with a smile. “I didn’t mean to intrude, but I was hoping to find River…” I tell her, shifting on one foot to the other awkwardly and clasping the basket’s handle in both my hands pretty tightly.

I try to look over her shoulder to see if he was in sight, but I didn’t see him.

Please tell me he isn’t here so I can go home…

Please tell me he isn’t here…

“He isn’t here.” She says, holding the front door open. “He hasn’t come home yesterday, actually.”

I frown. “He hasn’t?”

She shakes her head slowly.

She looked anything but sad.

I thought she would’ve been in a panic state that River hasn’t come home, but she just shrugged like it was a regular thing to happen.

“Does he, uh, do this often?” I ask her, clutching the basket’s handle tighter.

She chuckles. “Don’t look so worried, Sophia.” She says. “River always comes home and he never misses pizza night anyways. Uhm, can I invite you in for some coffee? You can wait for him until he shows up.”

Guilt settles in my stomach. I was the reason he didn’t come home, but if she was certain that he was coming back, I started to feel a little better and nodded at her offer. “Sure.” I smile. “I brought freshly baked cookies.”

“Your grandmother spoils me too much.” She laughs.

I thank her when she moves out of the way to let me inside her house.

I enter the house and wait for her to close the door behind her, but before I could follow her, the dog I spotted moments ago comes into view again and practically tackles me. I would have dropped to the ground if Penelope didn’t help him off me.

“I’m sorry, Sophia.” She chuckles, helping me to straighten myself. “This is Duke. He can get overly friendly sometimes.” She then pats his head. “Duke, this is Sophia.”

“Hi there, Duke.” I rub my hand over his fur. “He’s such a beautiful dog.”

“It’s River’s.” She says. “He was ours, but Duke gets more love from River, apparently.” She laughs, and then she leads me to the kitchen with her hand on the small of my back and Duke on our heels. He probably smelled the delicious cookies I had in the basket.

I couldn’t help but let my eyes wander around the house as we made our way to the kitchen. The living room was on the east side of the front door. A medium-sized flat-screened TV rested on a wooden TV stand.

A fireplace that was already lit and warming the entire house was stood against the wall to the north side of the room.

A beautiful wine-coloured carpet complimented the white couches, along with the curtains the same shade of red as the carpet. Duke’s bed was on the floor directly next to one of the couches, and a few toys were lying around.

The smell of coffee brewing filled my nostrils and when we entered the kitchen, I saw a coffee maker steaming away. It was busy filling a cup with coffee and milk from what I could see.

All Penelope had to do was add in some sugar and stir the contents.

She beckons for me to sit down on one of the wooden stools while she walked over to the other side of the kitchen counter. She takes the cup from the coffee maker and pushes it toward me, along with a plate of sugar cubes and a spoon.

I set the basket filled with chocolate chip cookies down onto the kitchen island and sit down on the stool. “Thank you.” I tell her with a smile.

Duke sits down beside my stool and places his snout on my lap.

I rub his head.

Penelope grabs a cup from the cabinet and places it underneath the coffee maker. She presses a button and waits for her cup to fill with fresh coffee before she joins me. She then started to blow the steam away from the cup. She didn’t drink sugar or milk in her coffee, unlike me who had to throw in two whole sugar cubes and the entire small pitcher of milk.

“I should be the one thanking you. I can’t remember the last time I had a fresh batch of homemade cookies…” She says, eyeing the basket. “River doesn’t allow me to drink coffee with sugar, so this,” she jerks her head to the basket, “I’d have to hide from him before he takes it away from me and hides it somewhere I can’t find.”

“Can I ask why he would hide it from you?”

“I’m a diabetic,” she says, “I have been for almost two years now.”

“Oh no! And here I brought a whole batch of cookies you can’t eat! I am so sorry, I had no idea.”

Penelope throws her hand up, shaking her head. “Don’t worry, dear.” She says. “I won’t eat the entire batch up, so a bite now and then won’t hurt. When my husband comes home, the entire batch would vanish, anyways.”

I chuckle and open the basket of cookies.

Just looking at the chocolate chip cookies made my stomach grumble at the sight. It looked delicious. I was almost jealous that my grandmother didn’t make me a batch, but then I remembered why I was here in the first place.

To apologize to River for talking behind his back.

“Feel free to grab one.” She says, smiling when she hears my stomach grumble for the second time.

A blush coats my cheeks and I laugh, shaking my head at my traitorous stomach when it grumbled again for the third time. “I’m sorry. I didn’t eat at school. I’m still adjusting to the environment.”

I prop my hand into the basket and take out a chocolate chip cookie.

I slide the basket over to her, who mimics me and takes out a cookie of her own. She takes a bite out of it, savouring the bite by closing her eyes tightly as if she wanted to memorise the taste. “This is such a treat. I must remember to send something with you for your grandmother, too.”

“Oh, that’s not necessary.” I tell her, wiping my mouth to get rid of the cookie crumbs, if I had any. “My grandmother loves to bake and she just wants an excuse to send parcels like these around. She had to run errands, so she couldn’t deliver it herself. She says hello, before I forget to tell you.”

She takes a bite out of the cookie and dips the rest in her coffee, soaking it for a good few seconds before she takes it out and props it into her mouth.

The sight brought a smile to my lips because Daniel did the same thing. He could never have eaten a cookie without dipping it in coffee or tea first.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked him, scrunching up my nose.

Daniel smirked at me and propped the coffee-dipped cookie into his mouth.

“You should try it. It’s out of this world.” He says, licking his lips.

“You’re supposed to dip it into milk, not coffee. It gets all soggy and gross now.” I told him, shaking my head at him.

He reached out his hand with the cookie but I shoved his hand away. The cookie dropped onto the table, splatting against the glass table.

We looked at each other and burst out laughing.

“Whoops.” I shrugged.

“You just wasted this masterpiece, Sophia!”

“Sophia?” I focus my gaze on Penelope and see that she was looking at me with her eyes full of concern. “Are you okay? You zoned out there for a second.”

I nod quickly. “Yes. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” She smiles. “So where was I? Oh, that’s right… I wanted to ask you how you like school so far. I hope the students have been nice to you.”

“Oh, it’s great.” I nod, licking my lips. “I have the most wonderful friends.”

“And the classes?” She asks. “Are they easy?”

I nod. “They’re quite easy, yes…” Except for Biology with your nephew. That isn’t easy. “… and the teachers are really helpful, too.”

“That’s good to hear.” She says.

I turn around in my seat when I hear the front door being closed.

My heart drops inside my chest when River stumbles into the kitchen. He smiles when he noticed his aunt drinking her coffee, but his smile immediately disappeared when he saw me sitting by the kitchen island.

He was drunk. I can smell it from a mile away, but his aunt didn’t notice. She did, however, notice the dried blood against his clothes and face.

His face was battered up and bruised. There was dry blood coating the corners of his lips and his hair was also covered in droplets of dry blood.

So that’s where he was.

The barn; fighting off his anger.

“What are you doing here?” He asks; his voice was full of sheer anger.

“River!” His aunt yells angrily. “Apologize to her right now!” She glares at him. “She is my guest and I will not allow you to talk to her like that.”

I dismiss her with the wave of my hand, directing my gaze back to River. “I’m the one who needs to apologize, actually.” I tell them both before I look at River directly, avoiding the dry blood that covered almost every part of his body. “I’m sorry, River.” I start, “I shouldn’t have, uh, talked about you behind your back. I upset you, deeply. I hope that you can forgive me.”

I was taking a chance apologizing to him while he was drunk, but I’m definitely not going to apologize again, that’s for sure. Drunk or not.

A confused v forms between his eyebrows. He was clearly caught off guard at my apology because the anger vanishes into thin air and he just looks at me, completely stunned. He probably didn’t expect me to apologize to him.

“Uhm, it’s okay.” He frowns, running his fingers through his dirty hair.

“I better go then.” I turn to look at Penelope with a small smile. “Thank you for the coffee.”

“Nonsense.” She quickly says. “You’re staying for dinner.”

Shit. That is something I definitely not expect.

I look at River for some kind of help, but he doesn’t say anything at all. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say that he didn’t even care if I stayed for dinner.

“You’re, uh, welcome to stay for dinner.” He surprises me by saying. “We were just going to order in anyways. It’s pizza night.”

I looked at him with my eyes wide, and my mouth agape. That—right there—threw me off guard. He practically just invited me to stay for dinner, and he didn’t look angry when he suggested it.

Something was wrong. Really wrong.

“Well, would you look at that…” His aunt starts, clapping her hands together happily. “So, what would it be, Sophia?”

I swallow hard, looking at River to see if there was some kind of sign that I should decline and go home, but there was none.

“Uhm, that would be nice.” I tell her although the thought of spending another minute in the same room with River made me feel all weird inside.

What was happening?

Why did he suddenly act all nice around me?

Or was this some kind of joke?

I will never know with him.

• • •

“River was such a great kid…” Penelope says to me.

We were currently in the living room, eating pizzas in paper plates in front of the blank TV, but nothing about it was uncomfortable at all. I enjoyed the company even if River was quiet most of the time. I guess that is why I enjoyed the company so much, because he was silent most of the time.

I think he was fighting off a hangover. At least he was squeaky clean, and he looked decent again with his black pair of jeans and black lettered shirt.

River was seated beside me on the other couch—luckily not on the same one I was seated on beside his aunt—but we were still seated beside each other nonetheless, but it wasn’t uncomfortable at all, surprisingly.

“Was?” River questions with his left eyebrow lifted. “Ouch, aunt P.”

“Okay, fine. You are a great kid. I am just relieved that you aren’t always so naughty like you were when you were younger.” She says with a smile, looking at her nephew with so much adoration. She then turns to look at me when I took a bite from my pizza. “He broke a window with a pencil once. A pencil!” She laughs. “He truly was unbelievable when he was younger.”

“That was not me.” River says, shaking his head at his aunt. “I wasn’t the one who break the window, aunt P.”

He seemed a little more sober than when he stumbled into the house, and how his aunt didn’t notice he was drunk this entire time was beyond me.

Or she did notice that he was drunk, she just kept the peace for my sake.

“Oh, sure it wasn’t you!” Penelope rolls her eyes at him.

“Beck did it,” River says, hesitating at first, “I just took the blame because he was scared to get into trouble.”

I don’t know why the atmosphere was suddenly became tense, but it did.

Penelope clears her throat and smiles awkwardly at me.

I chuckle, trying to lift the mood. “I can’t believe he broke a window with a pencil. He sounds like a real troublemaker.”

River laughs mindlessly and nods. “He was.” I see sadness wash over his face.

“Was he your brother?” I ask him.

“Yes.” Penelope answers for him. “Beck was his brother.”

I nod.

When the tension started to thicken the air around us, I broke the silence. “Can I ask what happened?”

I don’t know why I hesitated to ask, but all I know is that I regret asking because River shifted from being tensed to pure rage in a matter of seconds.

“No. You can’t. Because it has nothing to do with you!” River snaps. “I told you to stay out of my business, but of course you didn’t listen.”

“River!” Penelope yells at her nephew.

He shook his head violently. “Don’t.” He tells his aunt; the anger in both his eyes and voice was evident. “She should know better than to meddle after the talk we had just days ago.”

He then looks at me, making me wish that I can turn the time back to when we were laughing and eating pizza without there being awkward tension in the room.

“My family has nothing to do with you. Nothing at all!” He says, getting up from the couch. “You don’t see me asking questions about your boyfriend or whatever he was to you when you snatched the photograph from my hands, because I know not to meddle in someone’s affairs.”

He runs his fingers through his hair frustratingly, pulling at the roots tightly. “I didn’t ask you once why you moved here or why you have a scar on your cheek! So don’t ask about my family! You have no right.”

I swallow hard, feeling tears prickle my eyes. “I’m, sorry. I didn’t mean t—”

“I think you better leave.” He says, already making his way to the front door before snapping it open. He holds the door open, looking outside. His knuckles were white against the door handle with how he was clutching it.

He was grinding his teeth so hard; it won’t surprise me if it would crumble.

I get up from the couch slowly, thanking Penelope under my breath when I placed the crust of pizza on the paper plate down onto the glass coffee table.

I pass River in the doorframe, wanting to apologize to him yet again for prying, but looking at him glaring at me made me think twice about it.

I just left without looking back or without saying anything else.

I knew better than to ask about his past even after the argument we had days ago, but I asked him anyways.

And now I regret it.