Page 14 of Always You

But the look in her eyes becomes frantic, and she roughly pushes my head against the doorpost, making me wince in the process. A sharp pain enters my scalp, as I move to push her off, without hurting her in the process. She’s been able to shove me around when I was still fourteen and a lot shorter. But things have changed since then.

I can tower above her with my frame, and hurt her without even trying. There were times I had a hard time composing myself, lured in by the temptation to defend myself with force. But still remembering the disappointed look my father wouldthrow my way for fighting my brother over silly shit, I stop myself every time.

Instead, I just take it. I don’t want to hurt her.

“Shut up, you little shit.” Before I can duck, her palm connects with face.

The burning feeling on my cheek has me growling in anger. She makes another attempt to do damage, her fist soaring toward me, but I quickly dart out of the way, creating enough room for myself to trot down the hall, and off down the stairs. Her drunk ass stomps behind me, cursing all kinds of shit that isn’t worth repeating or listening to.

When I reach the final step, I give my mother one last glance and let out a deep sigh.

“You’re an ungrateful piece of shit, do you know that?” Venom drips from her lips as she tries to not fall from the steps, being drunk as fuck.

“Whatever, Mom.” I roll my eyes at her, not even feeling the need to respond anymore, while I open the door and get into my truck. She’s yelling shit from the front door, madder than a wet hen as I put the truck in reverse while shaking my head at the embarrassing sight.

She wasn’t always like this. There was a time she would bake cookies with me, help my brother and me with our science projects, or watch movies with us on a Saturday night.

But something changed when I was about ten. My mom always liked a glass of wine, drinking one glass with dinner. It wasn’t until she her pour a glass of wine with breakfast that I knew something was up. My dad ignored it, brushing it off with a smile every time I’d send him a questioning look.

He shoved it under the rug.

So I did too.

But after the accident, there was no brushing off anything.

Shit got out of control.

And it was no later than a month after the accident when shit got violent as well.

Now it’s an everlasting thundercloud hanging above my head until I bolt out of this town after graduation.

Arriving at the parking lot on the edge of the woods, I park my car, and naturally, I’m the first one here. I lean my head back and close my eyes for a few minutes to take a deep breath. Consciously breathing in and out, I try to push my bad mood away until I startle in my seat from someone knocking on the window.

I turn my head, looking into Jason’s wide grin. His ocean-blue eyes are as chipper as always, a big contrast to his light blond cut.

“You wanna sleep the night away? Get out, dickhead,” he taunts, then walks into the woods, and I get out of my truck to follow his tracks.

“A little power nap before an all-nighter can’t hurt.”

“I hope you are well rested, because I’ve brought this.” Without looking back, he holds up a bottle of Havana rum, and I chuckle behind him.

“You’re going to get in trouble, aren’t you?”

“Count on it, buddy.”

Three hours later, it’s eleven-thirty, and almost everyone in the senior class is at the bonfire getting hammered on shitty keg beer. The occasional breeze rustles through the leaves on the trees, cooling down the comfortable temperature of the night.

I’m holding my red cup with Coke, casually roaming the open field in the woods, when really, I keep catching myself looking for Charlotte, even after I told myself to stop obsessing at least a dozen times.

My mind isn’t onboard, though.

Finally, my chest tightens with excitement when I see her walking out of the tree line, her arm linked with her friend’s.She’s wearing some black shorts, showing off her luscious curves, with a gray hoodie from The University of North Carolina to keep her warm. Gray Converse cover her feet, and I love how cute she looks without making an effort.

“Is she your new flavor, playboy?” I look at Jason on my left, nodding his head toward the two girls, making their way to a group of friends.

“Nah,” I reply, knowing she can’t be put in that category.

He makes it sound like she’s a girl I hook up with once before I move to the next. But just by looking at her I know she will never be just a girl.

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