Chapter Five

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TW: physical abuse; emotional abuse

I stood outside the school gate thinking over my options. I could go home like I was summoned to and face the music or I could walk the other way. I chose to walk slowly home. Allen is unpredictable. I don't want to add fuel to that situation. The walk was not going to be long enough to prepare of this. I just know it.

I reached the driveway in fifteen minutes. Noticing both cars in the driveway, the garage door open, and my bedroom door inside leaned against the wall. I tensed when I saw it and not fully because of the door. My chest stayed tight as I walked up the drive and into the side door in the garage.

*****tw*****

"Gemma Charlotte Drwyer." My mother scolded me as soon as I closed the door behind me. "I am beyond disappointed of you're careless, disrespectful acts. How dare you ruin this family's reputation. How dare you risk your college career, all the time I spent raising you over sex." She continued to yell. I stood frozen in the entryway. "I am not raising a daughter like this; like you". As she yelled she kept stepping closer. "Do you hear me?!" She shrieked because I was not reacting to her. She quickly grabbed tightly on my arm. "You are ungrateful." She seethed, starting to drag me into the dining room. I wasn't even given time to take my shoes off or put my school bag down before she dragged and pushed me into the dining room. A dining room where Allen sat.

He stared angrily at me as my mother moved into the room and stood behind him. I stood frozen at the side of the table.

"What do you have to say for yourself?" He asked.

"It was only about what happened this summer. It wasn't anything new." I whispered, looking down at the ground. I knew it wasn't going to help. I feel so stuck.

"Anything new?" He stated in a bitter condescending tone. "You embarrassed your mother. Your school called her at work about this disgusting exhibit of teenage sexual acts and she had to waste precious work time talking to a headmaster who should have suspended all of you. You little shit." He started to rant. His muscles tensing in anger and his vein popping out of his forehead. "Nothing new? You are a disrespectful disgrace" he yelled. At some point in his rant he stood, and moved around the table. I had started to zone out his rant. I hated him. "Got nothing to say, you brat? We should send you on your way. You don't want to be a respectful daughter then why should we house you?" He dug in.

As he talked my anger built. I could not cry here. I refused. My left hand gripped my bag as tightly as I could, my right was clenched just as tight. My teeth started to hurt and I clenched my jaw tightly closed. Do not yell. Do not react. He is trying to get a rise out of me. Do not let it turn into last time.

"Hmm?" He added. "We can't have a good for nothing slut bringing down the reputation of this family. This map made the news. Disgusting." He roared.

I shouldn't have said that. It left my stomach, and pushed out of my vocal cords before I could logically stop it. "You are not even part of this family. Why do you care?" I yelled.

I felt a tingly feeling on the right side of my face as my whole cheek snapped to the left. My right hand rose to touch my cheek as I did so I was hit again. His hand slapped against my ear. Fucking asshole. I felt my ear slowly flame up, and before he swung again I pivoted away from him and flew out into the hall and out the front door. Tears started at some point starting trailing down my face.

I heard him yelling from the porch but that only motivated me to run quicker.

*****end tw****

I ran until I was far enough that I knew he was not coming after me. I ran though sides of yards, cut across a creek, and found a development of homes. I adjusted the bag on my shoulder. I started to walk. My legs hurt from running, my ear burned, my cheek stung, and my face was sticky from crying. I must look like a mess. It was 4:30 in the afternoon, a good way out from getting dark. I took in my surroundings, not realizing where I was. There were rows of houses that all looked similar, but most having their own unique touch to the street. I cut through some yards to get here not realizing that if I drove it would be a twenty minute drive as I would have to go all the way around.

As I walked, I came across a familiar white car parked in a driveway. It was a small ranch style house. It had to be his car. I sighed. It would be a place to spend the night if he let me. The urge hit me to find a way into his bedroom. Hopefully, he would let me stay. I realized that I could text him, but quickly realized that my phone was left at home. Texting him would have been so much easier. Annoyed, I made my way around the house. The first window on the left side, did not scream Spencer, but was probably his parents room. The next room looked to be an office. I walked behind the house, feeling more and more creepy, but also motivated to sit. The next window was the bathroom and I could hear the water running. He must have just got home from basketball. I let out a breath when I reached the next window. This was Spencer's room. His curtains were open. His bed is unmade. He has band posters littering the walls. I tried the window realizing it was unlocked. His bed was just below the window so I tossed my bag in first and climbed in. I shut the window behind me. I took my shoes off and put them on the floor and moved my bag next to them. I then sat with him back to his headboard. My knees pulled into my chest. My chin resting on top of my knees.

This is where I waited. I was thinking about the map, Allen, today, when I heard the water shut off. I hated that stupid thing. Why did Amerie create it? Why on a public school wall? Why did it cause so much grief? I stared at his door when it opened hoping he was going to see me. I should have said anything to gain his attention, but I was nervous and frozen. He didn't turn, why would he, and before words could leave my mouth Spencer stood in front of his closet in a low hanging towel. His hair was wet. I could see his back muscles. He pulled out a pair of boxers from a drawer in the closet and dropped the towel. I gasped as I saw his naked ass, his shapely, adorable, fit ass. Stop, Gemma. It may be true, but you can't like him, remember. He turned quickly using his boxers to cover as he turned in shock toward me.

"Gemma," he shrieked in shock. Just as quickly he turned back around. I could see the back of his neck flush, ears starting to turn pink. "What are you doing here!" He pulled on the boxers, turned and walked over to me. Me on his bed, in his space, surrounded by him. His stare. His scent. His energy.

I gave him a half-smile, a small shrug, and met his stare. That look of concern was in his eyes again. The same one from Slts this morning. "Wanted to talk now?" I tried humor to dispel the tension of the room, but it fell short. He was not catching onto the humor I was putting down.

"What happened?" He asked. He turned and reached for two pairs of pajama pants and shirts from the closet. For someone who doesn't know me, why does he know me so well? I closed my eyes, pulling my knees tighter. Tears started falling again. He tossed a set next to me on the bed, and turned and put his on before turning back towards me gesturing to the pajamas. "Might be big, but change out of the clothes you wore to school?" He shared before walking out of the room. I took the time he was gone and changed, folding my clothes into my school bag. The tears stopped as I distracted myself with changing. My eyes burned from being so dry from crying earlier and now being wet again. I sat back in his bed in the same position. These were warmer than my T-shirt and wide leg jeans, and they smelled like Spencer's laundry detergent.

Moments later, he walked back into the room with a stack of cups and a 2 liter of soda. He held the two-liter up and I nodded. He pulled out one cup and handed it to me and then pulled one out for himself. I reached out and grabbed mine, resting it on my knee. He opened the liter, and poured us Diet Coke. He closed and set the liter aside before he stepped closer to me, without getting on the bed. He reached out toward my face. I flinched. His brows furrowed, and he looked worried. His hand stood hovering still. He looked into his eyes, and gave him a small nod.

He pushed my chin to the right with a light gentle touch. Even in the low lamp light, I could tell he saw whatever damage had appeared from Allen because his jaw clenched tight, and he sighed in anger. He caught my eye.

"Who?" He gritted out through his teeth, his voice soft, but with an edge to it, his touch was soft, but his eyes were sharp. I stared into his light brown eyes.

"Mom's boyfriend." I choked out, the tears started to fall again as I admitted who hurt me. Why did I feel safe here? I don't deserve to have him to care. I am just Gemma. A book nerd. Quiet as a mouse at times. A snitch. A terrible friend. Unwanted. Why did he have to make me feel seen?

"Come here?" He asked, holding his arms out to embrace me in a hug. I set my cup down on the nightstand next to his without even taking a sip. Uncoiled my legs and arms, and stood up off the bed and reached into his embrace.

Warmth filled my soul. Sandalwood and something else spicy hit my nose. I leaned my head on his shoulder and bawled. 

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