Stella and the Boxer

Chapter 32

"Stella, who is that? I'm sorry, baby. I know you're upset."

I look up from my phone and search the room again as I answer Charlie, "I promise, I'm not upset with you, Charlie. It's just Andy who's texted me."

I pause when my eyes find Jason. His eyes are fixed on me as well, and a sheepish grin plays on his face. He starts towards our table without any of his friends in tow, luckily.

I look back to Charlie, who is staring worriedly at me.

"I need to use the restroom before we go," I say, standing up form the table, "But if you're ready, could you grab me an ice water in a to-go cup, from the bar?"

"Yeah, of course," He stands from the table, reaching his hand out to brush my side as I walk past.

"Do you want me to come with you and wait?"

I don't stop walking as I turn my head answer, "No, I'll be fine. I'll just be a minute," I try to smile before looking away from Charlie.

Jason stands still now, a smile no longer on his face.

Afraid that Charlie is still watching me, I mouth, "follow me" to Jason, and I don't stop as I walk past him towards the back hallway of the bar where the restrooms are. At first, I think that he isn't going to come after me, but as I approach the men's restroom and turn back, he is there.

"Wrong door, baby," he smirks.

"Don't call me that."

I push the door open and go inside. At first, I am thankful that the restroom is empty. Then, I realize that being completely alone with Jason probably isn't something to be thankful for.

"Andy texted you?"

"She did. I asked her to. She knows some of the guys I went to high school with. I ask around about you every time I visit. Last time, some freshman boy in Marty's frat was supposed to get you to come out with us, but that failed. When I found out that I'd met your roommate though, I knew I'd get to see you.

"Why would you even want to see me?" I ask, turning and crossing my arms in front of the sink.

"Why would I want to?" He raises his brows, as he walks slowly to stand in front of me. He leaves plenty of distance between us, but I still feel as though we are suffocatingly close.

"I want to hang out with you. I want to piss off that fucking brute of a boyfriend that you have."
"Don't talk about him," I say defensively.

Jason huffs, flexing his jaw and pushing his tongue against his cheek. The action sends chills up my spine, because I know it means he's angry. Already, I've managed to irritate his nerves, but I don't regret it. He can't talk about Charlie.

"I think it's kind of ironic that you apparently had to go to a therapist because you were so afraid of me, and yet you still act like a little bitch. Maybe if you would've kept your mouth shut..." Jason cuts himself off, chuckling at his own thoughts about my foolishness, "And to top it off, I find out that you're hanging around with some guy who beats other people for a living."

He continues to laugh, his brown eyes wrinkling in the corners. Then, he runs his hand through the short, blonde hair as he looks slowly from my feet, up to my face again, sizing my body up. His laughter stops as his eyes move up my torso, and then he pauses when his eyes meet mine.

"He's going to hurt you. Worse than I did, too, because you think he's different, right? None of us are different, Stella. And you're so much of a pain in the ass that even if he isn't a complete dick, you'll test his patience until -"

"I'm not as stupid as you think I am, you know. I know that a part of you still wants to hurt me. You probably would right now, if you didn't think someone would hear you - that he would hear you. But I also think that you're angrier with yourself than you've even been with me. You know that there are men out there, like Charlie, and like my dad, and like so many others, who have control over themselves, and that gives them more power over others than you'll ever achieve by hurting them. Charlie would never do what you did to me, but I would do anything he asked me to. You'll never know that; you'll never have someone who trusts you, or loves you enough to give you more than you take by force."

"You think I care about a little skank like you loving me enough to spread your legs every time I ask? I want to hurt you again because you almost ruined my life, damn it!"

Jason's fist collides with the edge of the nearest sink as he steps closer, gritting his teeth together while he speaks. His size doesn't overwhelm me; I imagine Charlie wrapping his huge arms around my waist from behind, resting his chin on my head, and Jason seems small.

"You know how I'm going to hurt you? I'm going to hurt him. He might be a boxer, but I bet he can't fight off five guys at the same time."

"Your friends might be rude, but they aren't sociopathic like you. They won't help you."

"You don't think so?"

Jason takes another step forward, holding his ground as I crumble. The scenes that I've pushed to the back of my mind since Casey's phone call suddenly flood my mind: Charlie fighting off multiple men, away from Mark, as they retaliate against him.

"Maybe they won't help me. Maybe I'll have to find something else to help me out."

I begin to back up and I look down at the ground.

I think of Charlie, finally fighting two men until they've backed down. He is tired, but he doesn't let it show. His breathing is ragged, but he plays it off as adrenaline, glaring at the men as they back away, surrendering.

"What do you think? A bottle? There are plenty of those here. But that's not the effect I want. It's too simple, don't you think? Maybe I could just pick up a chair? That would cause such a scene though. We don't want to send you back to counseling, princess."

A third man finally approaches Charlie, slowly and sheepishly. Charlie lunges for him, determined to finish the impending fight before it even begins. As his large body descends upon the weaker man, the weapon is revealed - a sharp, silver blade is held steady, pointed towards Charlie's side.

"How about a knife? I bet I could find one of those somewhere in -"

"No!" I shout as tears spring from my eyes, "If you even go near him I'll -"

"Don't shout at me you little -" Jason silences me, raising his fist, as the bathroom door swings open.

"Man, what the hell?"

I barely have enough time to worry if it is Charlie who's opened the door, but I still feel relief when I see Jason's friend Marty enter the restroom quickly and worriedly.

"Get away from her. Stella, why did you let him bring you in here? Do you have someone to take you home?"

Marty, already aware of our situation from high school, and probably quickly collecting that Jason's recent visits to Clemson haven't been without skewed intentions, doesn't waste time trying to resolve or defend on behalf of his friend.

"I do have a ride. Make sure he doesn't follow us. My friend knows the police here."

While I speak, Marty forcefully grabs Jason by the shoulder and starts to pull him away from me. He nods at my instructions, and Jason mouths something under his breath about how he isn't surprised that Charlie knows the cops, as they continue to back away.

I consider waiting in the bathroom, allowing myself a moment to cool and collect, but then I realize that I really just want to see Charlie. I'll be alright when I'm with him again, and we can go home, and I can forget that this even happened. I start towards the door, and Marty holds it open for me.

"I'm really sorry, by the way," he whispers as I pass him.

Jason has exited ahead of us both, and I'm horrified to see Charlie waiting at the end of the hallway for me, Jason slowly approaching him.

Charlie eyes each of the boys and then fixes his stare on me, frowning. I look between Jason and him, holding my breath, praying that Jason doesn't say or do anything.

When Jason finally passes, I sigh and speed up, until I reach Charlie. I reach for him, but he doesn't move, he just glares down at me, his blue eyes dark with rage and mixed confusion. I feel Marty pass behind me, and I finally speak.

"Charlie, I'll explain everything to you. Just please, let's leave."

"You're gone for ten minutes - ten minutes, and I find you coming out of the men's restroom with two boys! Is that your payback? You find out I messed around with a few girls here tonight and you decide to-"

"No," I interrupt. My voice cracks as I say it and I shake my head while my hands reach for Charlie's face.

He huffs and turns his head before I can touch him.

"I need you to just believe me that it's nothing like that until we're out of here, please?"

I trust that Charlie wouldn't cause a scene, or fight someone unnecessarily, but Jason could be the exception. If I tell him that my ex boyfriend is in the same bar as us right now, that he was just in that bathroom with me, that he raised his hand at me...

I also don't have time. I want both Charlie and I far, far away from Jason.

Charlie finally nods, "Come on, then. Let's go."

He leads the way back into the crowded, main room of the bar. I keep my eyes down as I follow him to and out the front door, not glancing back until we're nearly to the car, checking only to see that Jason hasn't followed us, and that he can't see us as we drive off.

To my surprise, Charlie still goes first to the passenger side and opens my door. I say "thank you" weakly as I climb in.

"Here," he says dryly. He lowers his hand into the car, offering me a to-go cup - my water. I sigh as I take it.

I don't deserve him.

I don't speak as Charlie pulls away from the bar. I continue to stare down at my lap. When we come to a stop sign, he breaks the silence.

"Are you going to tell me what happened? Or do you want me to just take you back to your dorm."

His voice isn't sharp - but I know that he is becoming impatient with my silence.

"I'll talk, but can you keep driving? I don't want to stop. And I don't want to go back to my dorm, either. Unless you don't want me to stay with you."

Charlie sighs and begins to drive again. He doesn't answer about whether or not he wants me with him tonight, but we are already driving away from campus.

"That was him, Charlie. That was my ex boyfriend. He was the blonde who walked out in front of me. It was just us in the bathroom, for most of the time. His friend came later, and we left just after he found us. I know it sounds bad, that I would be in a room alone with my ex, but we were just arguing. I still don't like him at all. I'm sorry that I worried you, and I'm sorry that I went off alone with him. I just saw him and panicked - I didn't want him near you, that's all."

Charlie suddenly pulls the car over and parks on the side of the road.

"Charlie, what are you doing? Please don't stop," I plead.

He turns the engine off and opens his door.

"Charlie, no," I cry, "Where are you going?"

He walks around the car, to my side and opens the door.

He wouldn't leave me here.

Tears stream down my cheeks as I look up at him. His expression isn't angry, and I think that I see tears in his eyes as well.

"Come here, baby," he says softly, as he helps me from the car. Instead of bringing me into his arms, he gets into the passenger seat himself, and then brings me gently down onto his lap. I bury my head into his chest while he pulls my knees up, cradling me against him. Then, I hear the door close on the car.

"I'm afraid he'll follow us here," I say, my face still pressed to him.

"I won't let him touch you. You're safe with me."

His arms tighten around me, and his hands rub comfortingly at my back. I turn my head so that only the side of my face is against his chest, and I stare passively out the window.

"I don't want him to hurt you either, Charlie. I would rather him hurt me than you. That's why I went and found him. I asked you to get me water because I saw him, and he was coming towards us. I couldn't stand to think about him near you."

"You're not supposed to worry about me. I can defend you and myself. Did he..." Charlie pauses, and I feel him take a deep breath, "He didn't touch you tonight, did he?"

"No," I say. I consider leaving that as my only answer, not including that he would have, if Marty hadn't arrived, but I feel compelled to tell him everything, having just been caught seeming dishonest.

"He was going to. His friend walked in just before he hit me, and he froze."

I lift my head from his chest, sitting up so that I can look at him. He stares back, his expression strained and weary.

"I was just feet away. He could've hurt you, and I would've been standing there, waiting for you, without a clue."

"Don't think about it that way, Charlie," I whisper, placing my hands against his soft cheeks.

"Did you really think that something else happened? When you saw the three of us come out of the bathroom, I mean. Are you afraid that I would do something like that to you?" I bite my lip, hoping that his prior accusation came from shock and not a lingering fear.

"Of course not. I'm so sorry that I even said that. I got angry, and I was afraid you were angry, because of the girls. It was a stupid conclusion to jump to. I shouldn't have accused you of anything. I -"

"It's okay, Charlie."

I lay my head against his shoulder, lifting it for only a second to kiss his cheek. His arms are still wrapped around me, but he removes one, taking my hand in his and bringing it to his lips.

"I could take you home and go back. I can make sure that he never bothers you or your family again."

"No, Charlie, I don't want you to do that. The going back part, I mean. I would love to never be bothered by him again, but not by way of risking you."

"I didn't think you would."

Charlie's breathing is steady and slow, comforting to my earlier angst. I suddenly hear his wince and his body tightens for a second under me, before relaxing again.

"You're in pain."

"I'll be fine."

"Am I hurting you? I probably shouldn't be on your lap," I say, sitting up again to look into his eyes.

"You aren't hurting me at all. I needed you this close," he smiles, lifting his hand to wipe my teary cheeks.

"I know."

When we arrive back to the house, Charlie and I both change into more comfortable clothes. I sit down on his bed, staring down at my pillow. A part of me wants to sleep, but I know I won't be able to, not yet.

"Charlie," I call quietly, walking towards the bathroom, after him.

"I think I'm going to sit outside for a while, do you want -"

I stop when I enter the bathroom and see Charlie standing in front of the sink, staring down at an orange prescription bottle. He looks up at me almost instantly, his blue eyes sleepy. A smile barely crosses his perfect lips, and he lifts the bottle of pain medicine slightly.

"I think I might need these after all," his voice is almost a whisper. There is a certain tranquility to the surrender in his voice and stance, and it changes my mind.

"We can just go to sleep then," I smile, suddenly feeling even more tired myself.

"I'll sit on the porch with you for a while. That sounds nice."

Charlie motions for me to sit on the swing first. I wear only thick socks on my feet, and I cradle my legs to my chest. He tucks a navy blanket around me. Then, he sits down beside me and pulls me close before covering us both with a larger, red and black checkered, wool blanket. I lean into his shoulders, staring up at the clear, night sky.

"You do trust me, don't you, Charlie?"

"I do. I promise, I don't really think that you would be with someone else. I was stupid to even try to assume that."

"It isn't just that, though," I say, "You never told me that your uncle is an architect. I still wouldn't know that you even have an interest, if I hadn't walked into your office. I know that it may seem like I want you to go to school because that's what I'm doing, but I promise, I just want you to do what you love. I want to be the person who encourages you, even when you won't encourage yourself. You don't trust my intentions though, do you? That's why you never told me."

"I think I trust you, but I don't trust myself very much. If I were to tell you everything, share everything, I still don't trust that I won't screw up and lose you. I guess I still think that keeping parts of myself hidden away from people makes it easier when they're gone. If I feel like someone has known me in every way, then it matters too much. Old habits, you know. I mean it, every time I tell you that I share more with you than anyone. I promise, I'm trying."

And I do know.

I kiss his neck and whisper "I love you" before laying my head back onto his shoulder.

We sit in silence. Charlie kisses me now and then, and rubs my back as he rocks us slowly in the swing.

Just as I'm drifting off, I yawn a bit and speak very quietly, "Charlie?"

"Hmm?"

"Let's sleep late tomorrow. Can we?"

He chuckles lightly, "Yes, we'll sleep in."

I fall in and out of sleep after that, until I finally feel Charlie's strong arms lift me from the swing. Keeping both blankets wrapped around my body, he carries me to bed, where he removes the wool covers and tucks me into the soft sheets. I hear him shuffling, turning off lights and such, until I feel his body against mine. He leans over me, and the last remaining light disappears.

He wraps his arm around me then, and kisses my cheek.

"I love you so much, Stella. Goodnight."