To Learn to Let Go | ✔

Chapter 5

The week flew by and before I knew it, it was Friday. The rest of the week was... weird to say the least. Trent drove me to school every morning, Kyle tried to fight him every morning, and every morning all it took was once punch and Kyle was running away, holding onto whatever body part Trent's fist collided with. My ankle slowly got better, and by Friday I was walking without feeling much pain. I still didn't know much about Trent, we barely talked about personal things, we mostly talked about music or how our days went, if anyone was bothering me that he needed to take care of. I still hadn't figured out what his angle was, but I was starting to trust him as the week went on.

Whenever he got too close, he could feel my shift in energy and backed away. He never tried to touch me; he watched the tone of his voice to avoid scaring me. He brought me ice for my ankle every afternoon. It bothered me at first that he smoked, but the smell of cigarettes and sandalwood soon became familiar and welcoming to me. Trent's crooked smile set off a frenzy of butterflies in my stomach, and the gentle way he said my name made my heart soar. Okay, maybe now I could admit that I had a crush on Trent Rodriguez.

And tonight, he was taking me to a high school house party. I was standing in front of my mirror, holding up every piece of clothing I owned to my body and quickly rejecting it, throwing it onto my floor. After I had tried just about everything, I settled on a green and blue flannel, buttoned up with a black t-shirt underneath. I paired it with black ripped skinny jeans and a pair of black and white checkered vans. I winced in pain when I put on my flannel and the sleeve brushed against the cuts on my arm. I ignored the stinging and focused on continuing to get ready. Once I was as happy as I could be with my hair and my outfit I went downstairs to wait for Trent. Mom and Dad were in the kitchen, cleaning up after dinner and talking about the latest drama at their jobs. I noticed their glances over at me on the couch every few minutes. They knew I was going to a party with Trent tonight, I didn't want to lie to them. Plus, they were the kind of parents who told you that they would come pick you up anytime with no questions asked. The more time I spent with Trent this week the more I noticed these glances. It was like they were worried about me and I couldn't figure out why.

I was pulled from my thoughts by a knock at the door, he was here. The butterflies in my stomach were throwing their own party, and I had to do deep breathing exercises to prevent myself from going into a panic attack. I tried to get to the door, but I still couldn't run with my ankle and Dad ended up beating me to it. I cursed my ankle as my heart beat a mile a minute watching Dad open that door and greet Trent. He put on that big fake dad smile as he shook Trent's hand, I could tell behind that smile he was plotting all the ways he could kill Trent and get away with it. I think my parents thought we were something more than we were. Trent was not gay, not even a little.

"You must be Trent! Jonathan Daniels, it's so nice to meet you! Come on in!" Trent nervously followed my dad into the hall and I slowly made my way over. Trent looked up and smiled when he saw me, his cheeks flushed a deep shade of red, and mine blushed to meet his.

"Grayson, you look great," he said.

"Th-thanks," I stuttered.

"Have him home by midnight, okay? And if you can't drive please call us, we will pick you up."

"Dad, it's okay. We'll be f-fine," I said, even though I didn't quite believe it myself. I had no idea what to expect from this party, what to expect from Trent at this party. I heard rumors, about the drugs he did, how much he drank, I was terrified of the person he would become at this party.

"Just, be careful," he said glancing at Trent with a stern look on his face. I rolled my eyes and walked out the door, Trent following behind.

"You really do look great you know, that color really brings out the green in your eyes," Trent said as he opened the door of his truck for me. Was he flirting with me? He couldn't be.