˗ˏˋOur Differences Sequelˊˎ˗

-24-

"Are you kidding?" I practically yelled, standing up and completely destroying the point of being turned around.

He stood up as well.
"Why would I make that up?"

I shook my head and grabbed my phone from off of the charger on the nightstand.
"This has gone too far. We have to call the police."

His eyes widened when I unlocked the phone.
"You can't. Put the phone down."

I stared at him in disbelief. Did he not want to get help?
I didn't understand. This has been going on for so long, and the abuse has only gotten worse. It's only fair for Devin and his sister to fix the problem.

"If you call the cops, there's no one to take care of my Dad." he explained.
"And it's not as easy to arrest someone as you think. There's so much to adjust and work around and then there's family drama. It's just a bad idea."

I guess I'd respect his reasoning, but I still think it's better to get help. Instead of arguing with him, I set the phone back down. I couldn't even fathom his own Mom sexually abusing him. What kind of sick human would do that? I think it made me more angry than anything.

"Are you.. okay?" I asked hesitantly. Truthfully, I wasn't sure what to say to him. I'm really not the best at comforting people.

He was holding back more tears, and I immediately regretted asking him that.

"Sorry." I apologized quickly and hugged him again.
"I probably shouldn't ask you that."

He lightly laughed at my struggle to find the right words. I knew he didn't mind, because he knows that I obviously care more than a lot of people. He trusts me enough to tell me his deepest darkest secrets, so obviously I care about him at least a little bit.

"I feel... guilty." he admitted quietly.
"And I know it's not my fault, but still. It was my Mom."

I cannot even imagine the things that he's actually feeling right now. He won't tell me everything, and I know that. But from what he's revealed so far, I know how badly he's hurting emotionally and mentally. This is a bigger deal than it can appear to someone. It didn't seem real. A mother raping her own son.

"I promise you that nobody would ever think that it's your fault." I assured him.

He nodded, while fidgeting with a bracelet on his arm. I think Jessica got it for him because it had a J engraved on it.

"Are you going to tell her?" I asked him, while watching him mess with the bracelet over and over again like a fidget.

He stopped touching it and looked at me, as if the question took him off guard. I expected him to tell Jessica. He tells her everything, I think. But he seemed more secretive about this for obvious reasons.

"Not sure." he replied with a mutter.
"I don't think she was too impressed when I told her about my abusive childhood, so I'll probably spare her the story of this."

Does she even care about him? Sometimes it seemed like she did, and other times it didn't. It's not fair to him, that's for sure.

He checked the time on his phone, letting out a small sigh.
"I need to go wake her up. The flight leaves in 3 hours."

I didn't want him to leave. There was still a week and a half left of the break, and I wouldn't be going back to California until January 5.

"You're gonna leave me?" I joked, even though I was literally sad about it.

He stood up and glared at me with an amused smile.
"You could always fly back early."

"No fucking way. I'm on vacation, which means I'm staying away from school."