The Pain of We (ON HOLD)

9

He brought his hand down on my face and I let out a small gasp, dropping the booze. "Why did you go out?" He demanded, his voice booming and shaking the house. I don't think I've ever seen him so angry. "How dare you?!"

"Daddy, please,"

I cursed myself. I always resort back to when I was young when he does this, begging for forgiveness, calling him my daddy. I go back to when my sister and mother were still alive. Back to when it was good.

"You disrespected me!" He hollered, again hitting me. "And for that you will be punished!"

I dropped down to the ground, landing in a puddle of cold beer. Some of the cans must have burst. "Please,"

He was about to hit me again, his arm in the air when from behind someone grabbed him. It was you. You threw him to the other side of the kitchen while he was still off guard.

You grabbed my hand pulling me to my feet and dragging me out the door. "Wait here." You put me in he passenger seat.

I watched as you ran into the house, ignoring the screams of my father. Who the hell do you think you are? A minute later you came darting out the house with of my bags, dodging a glass bottle thrown at you.

You got in the car and pulled out of the driveway faster than I ever thought was safe and tore down the road. You were panting.

"What the hell, Jarsen?"

"I heard him yelling and I had to get you out of there."

I rubbed my forehead in exasperation. "Jarsen, why?"

"You weren't safe. He was hitting you."

I looked out the window shield. "Where are you taking me?"

You bit your lip. "I'm taking you to my house."

I crossed my arms, digging my nails into my skin to stop from freaking completely out. What are you thinking?

At your house, we snuck inside. I felt so out of place standing in your house, even in the dark. Your ceiling was huge, so far from the ground it seemed impossible to reach. In the room to my right sat a bright white piano. Even from here, I could tell the keys were well worn. To my left was a hug spiral staircase, pictures lining the wall.

You led me up the stairs. At the top there were a few doors. You glanced at the one at the end of the hall on the left, nervous. You led me to the other end of the hall and opened the door. A blue bed sat against one wall, a white dresser opposite of that. There was a stereo on the ground, beside it piles of CDs.

You looked to me, wiping a tear from my eye. "Sleep here tonight. Don't worry about my mom. She'll come downstairs and see me on the couch and I'll try to explain."

"Jarsen, you can't tell her the truth."

"I won't. Now sleep."

You walked out the room, leaving me to sleep.

...

In the morning, I heard a murmuring from outside your door. I sat up in your bed, groggy, the memories from last night fuzzy. You were outside, arguing with someone.

"Please, you've got to understand. I couldn't leave her locked outside her house."

"Jarsen, you should've called. I would've been able to figure something out."

"It was late. What would you have done? Called a lock smith? Trust me, ma, it would've been much easier—and cheaper—just to let her crash here. Her parents get back in town today."

"I just wish you would've asked,"

"I'm sorry. Next time something like this happens, I'll ask."

You let out a breath and peeked in to your room. Seeing that I was awake, you smiled. "Morning,"

I leaned my head against the wall. "What did you tell her?"

"I told her that after the date, you were locked out of the house, and your parents were out of town so they couldn't let you in. That I said you could sleep here. Then when my mom suggested getting a lock smith, to let you in today, I told her that your parents would be coming back to day, so as soon as they're back you could go home. And since they're not really out of town you can stay however long you want."

I let out a breath. "Thanks for lying for me."

"I wasn't lying... I was just avoiding certain truths."

I smiled. "Thanks anyway."

You smiled. "I'd do anything to keep you safe."

...
"Back already?" Candice asked as I set another pack of beer on the counter. I glanced over my shoulder to where you were leaning against your car.

"Yeah... uh... dropped the other."

I pulled out a wade of bills. Candice shook her head. "This one's on me."

I gave a small smile. "Thanks," I grabbed the pack and walked out of the store, eyes of sympathy burning through my back.

...
You drove me to my house, and I could tell you were completely dreading it all.

I stepped out of your car and walked up to the house, waving goodbye to you. I stepped inside and immediately gave my father a beer.

I went upstairs and showered, still smelling like spilt beer the night before.

I leaned against the tile wall, starting to cry. I laughed a little, thinking, don't cry over spilled beer.

...
Monday I found you quickly, needing to talk.

"What are we?" I asked, finding you at your locker.

You looked at me, moving a piece of hair out of my eyes. "What do you want us to be?"

I looked down at my shoe. "I don't know. No one's ever thought about me as a friend... Not since my mother died."

You raised my head. "Then consider me your boyfriend."

I smiled.

"What was her name?" You asked.

"Whose name?"

"Your sister's."

"Oh. Dakota. But as long as I can remember, it was Kota,"

You smiled at this. Shutting your locker, you wrapped your arm around my shoulder. "Shall we?"

I smiled, laughing a little. "We shall."

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