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“You’re going to play that game? I tried to help a girl who looked a bit lost at the end of the first week of her freshman year. Someone bumped into her, and she dropped her books, so I tried to help, and she wouldn’t even look at me. Do you know what she said to me?”
Even though Beau is holding me so I can't move, it wouldn’t matter if he let go, because I’m frozen in place. I remember that incident. I was so pissed because I didn’t want to be there. It was actually my first day of school since my father’s death. I remember someone bumping into me and then laughing.
(Flashback)
“Here, let me help you with that,” a voice says as I squat down to pick up my books and scattered papers. “People can be shitty sometimes.”
“No, thank you, I’ve got it,” I snarl without even looking at the guy who the voice belonged to.
“No, really, let me help,” he chuckles, and that’s what does it.
How dare he chuckle and be in a good mood when people are grieving from losing a parent? How dare he think that being nice will help make everything better? It won’t! Nothing will ever be good again!
“Fuck off! I don’t need your goddamn help!” I feel him move away. “I’m sure there is a damsel in distress somewhere, but I’m not her. I will never fucking be her!” I grab the last of my items and walk away.
“Jesus, what a fucking bitch…”
I hear his last comment, but it makes no difference. If I have to be a bitch to keep people from bothering me, so be it. They will learn all too soon that I’m not worth the hassle and will leave me alone.
“T-That guy was y-you!” I stammer.
“Ding, ding, ding…winner, winner, chicken dinner,” he recites. It’s such a dorky saying, but it doesn’t matter; I’m too shocked to try and make fun of him for using it.
“I didn’t know…”
“Well, no shit,” Beau snaps at me.
“You don’t understand. I was in an awful place…” I try to tell him.
“Oh, were you having a bad hair day? Oh, maybe you were on the rag, and just decided that being a bitch was the best way to make friends.” Beau moves in closer, “What about now, Ry-Ry? Are you having your period now?”
“No, you really don’t understand…”
Suddenly, Beau’s mouth is on mine, kissing me. His tongue runs over the seam of my lips, demanding entrance, and for some unknown reason, I let him in. Maybe it’s because I now feel bad about how I treated him. There was a moment after I walked away that a tinge of regret enveloped me. I had never treated anyone like that before, but I couldn’t bring myself to apologize. Besides, I hadn’t even looked at him, so I wouldn’t know who to look for.
Our tongues dance, fighting for dominance, but in the end, I let him win as a thought occurs to me. Does Beau not know that I lost my father? He must know now…shouldn’t he?
I pull away. “Beau…”
“Shut the fuck up, Ryan.” He grabs my hair with his other hand and tips my head back as the kiss turns brutal.
The hand around my neck slides down until it massages and kneads my breast. A soft moan erupts, but his mouth muffles it. Beau presses his hardness against me, and I feel my core begin to throb. No, I can’t let this happen. I pull away and turn my head. Beau’s mouth nips at my jaw now.
“Beau, listen to me…please,” I beg.
“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Ryan. You did what you did. You made the choice and have suffered ever since because of it,” he states.
“My father had just died the night before the first day of school,” I deadpan, and so does he.
“What?” He pulls his head away.
“My father,” I choke out. “He was in a car accident the night before I was to start my first day of high school. Some drunk driver ran a red light and T-boned my father. He died on impact. My father...” My bottom lip trembles without my permission. “…he was my person.”
“Ryan…”
I cut him off from whatever he’s about to say. “I grieved all alone because my mother was too selfish to make sure I was doing okay. I get that she lost her husband and had every right to mourn, but she didn’t have to forget about her only child.” I can’t look at him, so I look toward my window and the fading sun. “I wasn’t ready to go back to school, but she made me, so she could wallow in her bottles of wine in peace.”
I don’t realize Beau has let go of me until my body slides down the door, and I’m sitting on my ass. I’ve never spoken this out loud to anyone. Brock only knew the gist of it, but not to this extent. There’s more, but I won’t unload everything, especially to my bully.
