Page 15 of Broken By the Bad Boy

Once inside, I don’t take up to ten steps before I slump to the ground. I draw my knees to my chest and sink my teeth into my lip.

It’s happening again.

A wet dot appears on the knee region of my sweats, and the tightness in my chest worsens. I’m safe here. I sniff, realizing only now that I’m in tears. My phone’s ringtone breaks through the dark cloud hanging over my head, and I run a hand under my nose. I hesitate to answer the call.

What will Gracie say?You are okay, Benny.

I breathe through it, and the tightness leaves my chest. My phone rings again, but I’m scared to answer. What if it’s Mom? I’m expected to be back at the mansion. I can’t go there. Not tonight.

Gracie’s name appears on my screen. There is a love emoji beside her name.

“You didn’t call or text. I was worried,” Gracie grumbles. She’s cute. “Are you home yet?”

Damning the consequences of being in this place, I force myself to my feet and rush up the stairs. I crawl under the cover I hid here weeks ago without taking off my clothes. Gracie calls my name.

“Yeah. Just got back.”

“Okay. I’m glad you are okay, Benny. Thanks for stopping by. I enjoyed seeing you.” A minute or two passes. All we do is listen to each other’s breathing. I pretend she is here and hug the pillow closer to my chest. “Mom is excited to meet you. She was wondering why you didn’t come in.”

“Tomorrow. She will see me tomorrow.”

“Okay. Goodnight.”

“Wait,” I blurt out. If I close my eyes, I’ll see her. I don’t want to revisit the nightmare tonight. I write Gracie’s name on my pillow. “Do you feel sleepy already? It’s too early to go to bed.”

“Do you want us to do something?”

“Talk?”

“What do you want us to talk about?”

“Anything. Everything. Nothing.”

Just be here for me.

Six

“How do I look?”Ben asks for the umpteenth time.

We are in front of my house, and he is convinced my parents hate him. They might give him a tough time, but they will be nice, I think. I am not sure. It’s my first time inviting a boy over.

Ben smoothens the invisible wrinkles on his suit. I would have had time to admire him if he wasn’t so worried. He is sexier in a tux. I want to kiss him. I want to smother him. I want to hug him.

He nudges me with his elbow. “Babe?”

“Like a coconut.” He breaks into a smile, and I grab his shoulders. “Don’t worry. They will love you.” Like I love him. No. Not again with these thoughts. They have been haunting me. Do I love him? I don’t know. I cast him one last reassuring glance and push the door open. “Ready?”

Our living room is empty. Soft music plays from the speakers under the TV, serenading us as we walk in. I roll my eyes. It’s a dinner, not a wedding reception, but trust Mom to go wild and crazy. Ben’s gaze darts to every corner. He barely has time to take in his surroundings as I usher him to the dining hall. We can explore later. He is late. We stop at the table, and Dad rises to his feet.

Dad is also in a suit, and, like Mom, I’m in a floral dress. I’m not trying to impress Ben. Okay, maybe a little, but Mom might have done something subtle to my face and hair. The lipstick and eye shadow were the first things Ben noticed before his nerves got the best of him. Ben clears his throat and grabs the hand Dad stretches to him. I pretend not to notice the discomfort written all over his face when my father grips his hand for a second too long. Yeah, they will get along.

“Happy Thanksgiving,” Ben says when Dad finally decides it’s time to let go of his poor hand.

“Happy Thanksgiving…”

Ben throws me a frantic look, and it takes a lot of courage to smile at Dad. “Ben,” I supply. “Benjamin.”

Dad is being tough. He knows Ben’s name. First, last and middle names. They had already grilled me before his arrival. Mom takes over the introductions, saving my boyfriend from my father.

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