My New Stepbrother

4

Angel

Once we came home from that vacation it was time to go back to school. I was eager of course and excited to go back. With this newfound willingness to open up to people, I naturally wanted to make more friends.

Even though usually I didn't care much about what I looked like, I straightened my hair for the first time that day, and put on a pretty pink dress. It fit the three fingertip rule that we had at the school, but just in case I dealt with a snooty teacher, I paired it with a denim jacket, and a pair of white vans.

Once I was finished getting ready, I grabbed my bag then I went downstairs in search for anything to quickly stuff into my mouth before I had to leave for school. When I got to the kitchen, I found Blake eating a bowl of soggy looking cereal. We hadn't spoken a word to each other since the incident two weeks ago, and as of right now that was fine with me. I didn't want to talk to him again until he apologized.

Not only for the slap and the name calling, but...for touching me inappropriately.

I opened the refrigerator door, turning my back to him. I reached in and grabbed a pitiful looking orange that was all the way in the back of the refrigerator. Once I had it in my hands, I closed the refrigerator door then turned around:

he was there, inches away from me—just staring at me.

How did he manage to sneak up behind me, without me having a single clue? I was just glad I didn't scream because that would've been embarrassing. I tried to sidestep him and walk away, but he wouldn't let me, blocking each direction I tried to take.

"Please..." I said, still avoiding eye contact. "Get out of my way."

Then I felt his fingers on my face, and he was forcing me to look at him. When I looked into his eyes for the first time in two weeks, I could see how awful he actually felt. His eyes were red-rimmed, and his eyebrows were scrunched up like he was seconds away from crying. It made me slightly sad too, but I didn't say anything.

"Angel." He said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Don't." I could feel my voice trembling. For some reason I didn't want to forgive him, not just yet. The things he did and said...just didn't sit right with me.

"I'm sorry, Angel! I don't know what came over me. I don't know why I started kissing you, I don't know why I cursed at you, and I don't know why I...slapped...you." He swallowed, briefly looking away before his eyes found mine again. "But please, you have to know how sorry I am."

"I just...need some space right now." My eyes were downcast, despite his fingers still tilting my chin upwards.

"What?! Bu-but I just gave you space. Do you know how hard it's been, not being able to talk to you or make you laugh?! How lonely it's been without you?" He screamed. "I mean look at what I've been doing to myself!"

He lifted his long sleeve to reveal his arm which was covered in slashes. Instantly, I knew that he was cutting himself, but for how long I couldn't tell. There were slashes that looked a few years old, and others that looked very recent.

"Oh my goodness." I breathed, taking his bruised arm into my hands. I gently traced each cut, my eyes filling with fresh tears. I too went through hard times, especially after my dad died, but never once did I get an inkling to do anything like this.

"I stopped doing it the night I met you." He whispered. "But then, whenever I hurt you I started up again. You don't know how awful I feel about everything." He said, then pulled his sleeve back down.

How could I never have noticed? Even when we were in the pool, I should've noticed. Or when he came into my room that one time shirtless, I should've noticed! They were decorated all across his arm like a tattoo, how could I not have noticed that? This boy was suffering so much, and here I was just adding more fuel to the fire. Overcome with guilt, I wrapped my arms around his neck, and buried my head into his shoulder. Then I started crying.