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Chapter Seventeen
Point of View: Nick


Immediately after getting inside, I'd called the FLPD and asked them to talk to the old man and get a settlement price so that he'd drop the charges on Krystal. "I'll pay whatever it takes," I told the officer I spoke to, "Just tell him to give you a quote and I'll write the check." There was no way that I was gonna let Krystal get the heat for something we'd both done.

Since calling the FLPD, I had sat on a chair in my living room, watching Krystal's house and waiting.

When a car finally pulled into her driveway, I didn't wait to see who it was that got out, I just leaped from my seat and bolted for the door, kicking on my sneakers as I went. I flew across the street and knocked on her front door. "Krystal!" I called.

The door opened and her mother stood before me in a fancy looking green dress suit and a little matching hat. She stared into my eyes with a look of pure hatred. "You," she said slowly, deliberately, "Are not welcome here." She started to push the door shut.

"Wait," I begged, "Wait. Where's Krys?"

"Krystal is resting," her mother answered sternly, "And she does not wish to speak to you."

"She doesn't wish to--" I cut off before I'd finished repeating the sentence. I stared, dumbfounded, at Krystal's mother. "But I gotta tell her some stuff."

"You've done enough," her mother replied, and went to close the door again.

I caught it with my palm and pushed it back open. "I'm gonna pay the settlement," I said, "I called the officers and I'm trying to find out how much the guy wants to pay it off so that Krystal doesn't--"

"Do you think we're a poor family?" demanded the woman in a regal tone.

"No but I --"

"We are Armalettos," she said the name as though she were saying royalty and glowered at me.

"And I'm a Carter, so the fuck what?" I asked. I hated it when people got all superior because they carried the last name of some long-dead predecessor who like invented lima bean tins or some bullshit like that. I really didn't give a damn what Krystal's great-great-great-great grand daddy did, it didn't make a difference in my life. What made a difference was who Krystal was.

Mrs. Armaletto stared at me for a long moment. "I know exactly who you are," she said, and she pushed the door shut in my face.

I stood on Krystal’s steps, staring at the door, biting my lip. Part of me wanted to knock again, to get Mrs. Armaletto to come back out and tell her off, tell her what Krystal told me about her. The other part of me knew that would be stupid and a mistake. I sighed and backed down the steps and started across the lawn towards my own house.

“Nick!” Her voice was scarcely above a whisper. I stopped and turned around. Krystal was straddling the window sill on the second floor, her foot resting on a tree branch. When I looked up, she threw a small purple duffle bag my direction, which I caught and dropped to the ground. Then, in an act I found as disturbing as I did thrilling, she stretched out her arms and pulled herself onto the branch. My heart about stopped as she yanked herself out the window and into the tree... She started climbing down in a well practiced manner.

I quickly rushed over to help her down from the last branch. “What the hell are you thinking?” I hissed, glancing back at the front door, certain her mom was gonna come out and crush me like a bug at any given moment.

“Escaping, what’s it look like?” Krystal scooped up the duffle bag from where I’d dropped it.

I trotted alongside her as she moved quickly to the sidewalk, toting her bag along. “Where are you going?” I asked, glancing over my shoulder back at the house every few steps.

Krystal shrugged, “Who knows? Anywhere but here. My mother’s a fucking psychotic…”

“Krys you can’t just run off,” I stammered, “Dude you’re like twenty-one, that’s really immature.”

“I don’t really have a choice, Nick, have you seen my mother? She’d rather send me to some rehab clinic than take care of me herself. She hates me.”

I felt desperate. I wanted Krystal to stay across the street. I had easy access to her there. “Don’t go,” I begged. “Especially not when you dunno where you’re going, I’ll worry about you.”

Krystal stopped and patted my chest. “Nick, you’ll live,” she said, “But if I stay here with her and let her control me, I probably won’t.”

“But—“

“Nick, it’s been a good run, but I gotta go.”

“But Krystal,” I felt a little bit pathetic, like I should be on my knees or something.

“Good bye Nick.”

I thought quickly. “Wait,” I begged. I pulled out my wallet and took out all my cash and thrust it into her hands. “Here, take this.”

Krystal blinked at the money.

“Please.”

“I don’t need your money Nick,” she said quietly, trying to hand it back.

“No you do if you’re gonna get out of your mom’s shadow,” I begged, pushing it back, “Please Krys, then at least I know you’ve got some money to start out with okay? And… and you have my phone number. Call me if you need more. Ever. Even if it’s been years, okay? Please?”

“Why the hell do you care?” Krystal asked, slipping the cash into the cleft of her bra.

“Because,” I said, “I told you I love you and I meant it.”

Krystal stared at her feet.

“You could live with me,” I suggested quietly.

She looked up, right into my eyes. “You don’t want me, trust me.” And before I could argue her, she turned and ran – not walked, but literally ran – away.