The Tattooed Flower

8. Sweet Dreams are Made of This

"Fucking whores. God, both of you." Quinn is still snarling at me after we've spent 10 minutes in the car.

"Quinn, you already knocked Trisha out and you gave me a black eye. Are you done raging yet?" Quinn looks at me from the drivers seat and her expression is hot with anger.

"Yes. But don't expect me to apologize." She pulls the Traverse into a sketchy looking motel parking lot with a neon sign flashing 'vacancy'. "Make yourself useful and grab the stuff." Quinn struts into the motel, me cursing myself for mentally undressing her.

I pop the trunk and grab everything. When I come in Quinn is waiting with my wallet in her hand and a room key in the other. I don't think too much about how she got my wallet, everything is pretty blurry. We walk down a dingy, dimly lighted hallway. Quinn doesn't speak to me and I don't blame her. I embarrassed her.

We find the room at the end of the hallway, the carpet a deep green that I'm certain hasn't been cleaned in awhile, if ever. Quinn unlocks the door and we walk in. The room has one king, coated in a flower-printed comforter. A rickety looking dresser holds and old box TV. And the walls are and off white due to age and grim.

"Well this isn't cliché at all." I mutter setting everything down.

"That's funny, I never thought you were too specific." Quinn says digging through a bag on the floor. I laugh as I watch her saunter off to the bathroom. I hear the sound of the sink running as I sit down on the springy bed. Kicking my shoes off as I rest my head against the pillow.

Quinn comes back out in a pair of gym shorts and a navy tank top. She just glares at me for a minute, her eyes now green again, her face clear of all makeup. She looks natural and beautiful, and all I want to do is wrap her in my arms.

"Do you need ice for your eye?" She asks.

"No." She turns away from me and grabs the ice tin anyway. In a moment she's out of the room, me watching the joined blue strap of her sports bra disappear around the corner. This is crazy, honestly it's just nuts. Why have I done all this? What's the point? We'll get caught wont we? And I hardly know her. But I feel like I do. And how lame is that? Have I really gotten to this point where I'm just fucking crazy?

Quinn comes back in. She looks tired and stressed and on the brink of tears but she still wraps the ice in a towel and presses to my swollen eye, seating herself at the edge of the bed. "I didn't hurt you too badly, did I?" She teases me with a smile.

"No." I let the corner of my mouth edge up.

It's silent for a moment, she stares at the floor and she looks lost and sad, confused and angry. "Were you going to sleep with her?" She whispers. Her eyes locked on the floor. Her voice is so tiny, so disappointed.

"Yes." I say. Because it's true, I would have. I want to tell her it wouldn't have meant anything, because it's true. But it doesn't matter. She hands me the ice wrap and I reach out to touch her.

"Don't." She says standing; walking around the end of the bed.

"Quinn."

"I'm tired, Caleb." She burrows under the blankets and doesn't speak as she falls to sleep.

Quinn-

After the fourth bout of jolting awake from a nightmare and trying to fall back asleep I wake up Caleb. "Caleb." I whisper, poking his bicep.

"Yeah?" He mumbles, his eyebrows scrunching together, a little line marking his forehead.

"Caleb, I can't sleep." I say gathering my knees to my chest. "Oh." He breathes. "Okay."

He drags his hand over his face, like he can wipe away sleep from his expression. He sits up, the blanket that was covering his chest falling away, revealing his solid, tanned skin. He leans against the headboard, his head bobbing toward me, eyes locked on mine.

"Bad dreams?" He murmurs.

"Yeah."

"Want to talk about it?" He inquires, eyebrows propelled up his forehead. I shake my head and he nods. "Thats what I thought."

"I'm sorry I punched you." I say ruefully.

"I'm not." I give him a curious look at he smiles, still beautiful even with his swollen eye. "I needed it. I don't want to be that guy anymore."

"I didn't have to do that..."

"Yes you did. The only way for me to not be this guy is for you to be you. And I guess that means being as hard on me as possible, and I'm okay with that now." He smiles a lopsided smile, no teeth, no taunting, just a smirk, a perfect smirk.

"Promise it's fine, you're fine?" I sigh.

"Promise." He assures me, touching my cheek lightly. My skin burns where he touches me and I just hold his hand to my face. "Come here." He motions with a nod of his head.

I scoot closer and lay my head in his lap, his fingers combing through my hair soothingly. "Thank you." I whisper.

He's silent for a moment and I think he fell asleep when his hand stops combing through my hair. "Were you jealous?" He asks, his words shocking me back to reality. I won't answer. I don't owe him that... But don't I? Don't I owe him everything? But I don't have to say that.

"I was angry." I say calmly. "You... Embarrassed me..." I lie. I couldn't care less what those scummy, whores thought of me.

He's silent after that, not speaking at all. Eventually I move away from him and fall asleep. Caleb doesn't try to touch me and part of me wishes he would, if only so that I'd know he felt something. But he couldn't feel for me like that. We're too different.

So this chapters kinda short, I've been kinda busy with school and what not.

Thanks for reading!!! Please vote/comment <3!!!!!!:)

Lidi