All I Ever Knew Was Your Name [Nick Robinson]

TWENTY THREE

warning: abuse

stars and boulevards by augustana

I don't hear from Nick for the rest of the day. I don't know if he's sorry for what he did. I don't know if his father is mad at him for sneaking out. I don't know if he's even okay. And as the hours pass by slowly, I begin to worry from his lack of contact.

Sure, I told him to go. I was afraid. I was angry. I was shocked that someone like him could mimic his father in the slightest. And yet, I'm still worried for him.

"You alright?" I hear my mom ask from my bedroom doorway.

She sees me sitting on my bed, head leaned up against the wall and looking out the window into nothing. Well, not exactly nothing. I'm hoping for some kind of sign that Nick is okay, unhurt, and in no form of danger.

But I can't tell her that.

My mom won't be mad that I'm seeing someone. She won't be mad that it's the neighbor. In fact, she probably won't even care that he's sleeping over. However, I'm afraid she'll treat me differently if she knows I'm in a relationship with someone, seeing as she acted strange when I had a boyfriend before. Maybe I grew up too quickly for her, or maybe she wasn't used to seeing me close with anyone.

"Yeah," I nod, holding myself back from crying.

She raises an eyebrow. Though we're far from close, she maintains her motherly instinct. I think it has a lot to do with being a nurse. Regardless, she's a smart woman and can tell when something is wrong.

"You sure?" she asks, holding her car keys in her hand. She must be leaving for work soon. I have no idea what time it is. All I know is that it's been too long since I've talked to Nick.

I look back out the window, then sigh. "Do you deal with patients who have been domestically abused?"

"Sometimes. Why do you ask?"

Should I tell her? I wonder. No. Don't break Nick's trust. Not even if you're mad at him. Not even if you're afraid of him right now. You can't break his trust. He trusts you.

Swallowing, I shrug. "I just saw this article about victims," I lie. "It was interesting. That's all."

"Interesting how?" she ponders, leaning against the door frame.

I feel my palms sweating, hopeful that I'm not too obvious. However, she has absolutely no clue of what's going on. It's nearly impossible to tip her off on something she's not even remotely suspicious about.

I sigh. "I saw that some child victims are so used to it, they can turn out like their abusers because it's all they know."

She nods, and I feel the lump in my throat growing in size. Though it was a completely bullshitted line, it was common sense. For some reason, though, I want her to tell me different. I want her to tell me I'm being dramatic and crazy. But she doesn't.

"That's pretty common," she looks to the side. "I mean, it's what they're brought up on. They think it's love."

I shake my head, looking up at the ceiling. "Love?" I scoff. "How could anyone think pain inflicted by someone close to you is love?"

She shrugs. "How else would they know?"

My head dips lowly, and I come to the quick conclusion that she is right. While Nick's father has been abusing him for some time now, it's been long enough for him to adopt the behavior as his own. Though I don't think it's nearly as extreme as his dad's, it needs to end quickly before he becomes the person he hates more than anything.