9. Chapter 9

Chapter 9

Darren

I couldn't stop kissing Christian. His full, plump lips were like cotton balls of softness. It must have been all that lip gloss he wore, keeping them so delicate. I wanted to kiss him all night, and I didn't give a flying shit about how awkward it was or how much saliva we produced.

And he smelled so damn good, like a forest campfire. It was fresh but smoky, which went well with his attempt at dressing up like a country boy.

God, I just wanted to gobble him up.

I needed him closer than him sitting on my lap, but I didn't know how that was possible. He was so small and lithe in my arms, but he had this strength about him I fed off of.

His fingers slid through my hair, gently tugging on it, and he made these really cute noises like little grunts and whimpers. Fuck. He was absolutely perfect in every way. Christian seemed to be the only one who could bring out my softer side, along with a shit ton of vulnerability. I had to give that to him if I wanted him in my life.

I shouldn't have spilled my guts to him on our first date. It was a lot. I was a lot sometimes. I knew how I could be and how I came across to others. It could be intense sometimes. But I was desperate for him to know me—the real me with all my failings and need to be a better person. I wanted him to like me despite my faults. I had a sneaking suspicion Christian wouldn't accept anything less than pure honesty.

And I meant what I had said. For the right person, I'd give it all up.

"Will you be my boyfriend?" I asked when we came up for air.

"Yes." His voice was soft and breathy.

"I feel really good about this, Chris. Can I call you Chris like you called me Dare?"

He nodded. "I'd like that."

"Is it too much? Am I being too much if I tell you that you give me hope people will see beyond my past?"

Christian pulled away and sat on his knees between my spread legs, leaving me cold until he clasped my face in his strong hands and long fingers. "People will see your inner beauty. You just have to let them in."

I nodded and grasped one of his hands, threading our fingers together. "Is it wrong that a part of me also wants them to be afraid of me? I want to be forgiven for what I've done to other kids, but I…" I struggled to finish the words because they felt wrong and weak.

"But you don't want someone to hurt you like you hurt them, or like your father hurt you?"

My eyes grew wide. That Christian got it meant more to me than even our kiss. It showed that he was made for me. He deserved someone better, but I needed him… someone like him. I needed a safe place, so tired of holding all my pain in, and Christian was it.

Dillon and Cade were great, and they knew why I'd been such a prick, but they didn't know my deepest fears. My friendship with them was so precarious because of what I'd done to them, and I didn't want to scare them off with my fucked-up issues. I needed their friendship more than they realized, especially Dillon's. Not because I was attracted to him anymore, but because we'd become really good friends, and he chose to trust me despite hurting the very person he cared about the most.

I also wanted someone to be mine—someone who would eventually love me. No one had ever loved me. Maybe my mother did at one point. While we were doing better, she was still a little afraid of me.

"I don't want to hide you. I want to show the world that we're together now, but I'm afraid. Being so driven and motivated to excel, I'm worried that our discovery would lead to losing everything."

"We already talked about this, Dare. I meant what I said. I won't stand in the way of your goals, but now I can be by your side while you do it. Maybe one day you'll love the skin you're in and can embrace who you are without fear. I know that's part of what you're afraid of because I was that person once. As soon as you love yourself, you won't care what others think anymore."

"Fuck, how'd you get to be so insightful?"

"As I said, I've been there. The love and support I've received have helped me accept that there will always be people who hate me just for how I look or who I love, but there will also be people who love me and that I'm not alone. My family and friends keep me going forward to be brave and embrace all that I am. It's not without fear. There's plenty of that, but I'm able to push past it."

For the first time since I could remember, my eyes stung with the threat of tears and emotion. All I've known was anger, frustration, and fear. Then, it was desperation, loneliness, and sadness. Now, I had hope, and I wasn't quite sure what to do with it. It seemed like such a delicate thing that could be shattered without warning.

"You're amazing," I said. "Every inch of you is perfect."

He gave me the sweetest smile and leaned forward to kiss my cheek. "No one is perfect, Dare."

"You are. "

Suddenly, Christian's phone lit up the truck bed. He picked it up and read the text that came in.

"Crap, it's almost midnight. I was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago."

I deflated from disappointment that our date was over, but I didn't hesitate to get out of the truck bed and help him down. Baby Girl couldn't go too fast without backfiring and coughing, so I kept to the speed limit.

I finally got him home, and his mom was standing on the porch with her arms folded. "Sorry. I hope she's not too mad," I said. "And I hope she doesn't hate me now, but just tell her it's my fault."

"Nope, I should've been paying attention to the time. And she won't hate you, but I may get a lecture."

He leaned in and pressed his lips to mine for a much too short of a kiss. "Bye, Dare. I had an amazing time tonight. It was really nice getting to know you."

"I had a good time, too. Will you text me to tell me if you get into big trouble?"

He smiled. "I will."

I was about to get out to open his door, but he touched my arm and shook his head. "It's fine. Night, Dare."

"Night, Chris."

He opened the car door, jumped out, and walked off, but before he reached the porch, he turned and waved. I waved back and put the truck in gear before driving off.

Being with Christian was going to be amazing. I could feel it.

When I got home, Mom was knitting on the worn sofa. "Hey," I said, taking off my coat and hanging it up in the small coat closet by the front door. Then I removed my boots.

She looked up and gave me a small smile. The less Dad hit her, the prettier she became. Maybe some of it had to do with her not being so afraid anymore. The fear would take a long time to go away, but each day was better than the next. She probably needed therapy. Hell, we both did, but we couldn't afford it.

"Where's Dad?"

"Out drinking with his friends."

Great, whenever he drank, which wasn't often, he'd come home and be an ass. I would have to stay up to make sure he didn't pull any shit with Mom.

I sat on the couch to talk to her, hoping to keep repairing our damaged relationship. She wouldn't take the initiative, so I had to.

"My date was fun."

She set her knitting down on her lap. "Oh, that's wonderful. Is she a nice girl?"

He's a nice boy. But I didn't tell her that.

"I got my first kiss."

"How sweet. I remember my first kiss. It wasn't your dad, but a sweet boy I used to date in my sophomore year in high school. It didn't work out when he moved away, but it was a kiss I would never forget."

My heart thundered, filled with an unfamiliar emotion. Mom had never told me a story of her life before. I really knew nothing about her other than what Grandad told me. Dad had really beat her down to where she barely talked in fear of upsetting him, and that reaction spilled over to me.

For the first time, I was angry with my grandfather. Did he know? If so, why did he let it continue? Why not help her? I couldn't see him doing that. He hadn't liked Dad, but I didn't think he knew the extent of it. Mom kept herself too isolated and in denial.

"Well, if you two get serious, you'll have to bring her over so we can meet her," she said, snapping my attention back to her.

"Okay, well, night, Mom."

"Goodnight, Darren."

I walked back to my room and fell into my bed with a massive smile on my face .

My stomach dipped when my phone buzzed, but then the disappointment hit when it wasn't Christian, though it was fleeting because I wanted to tell Dillon all about it. I could trust him.

Dillon: How'd it go?

Me: It was perfect. I really like him.

He texted several heart-eye emojis.

Dillon: That's awesome. Did he have fun?

Me: I think so. We kissed.

Dillon: Yes! So happy for you, man.

Me: Me too.

We texted back and forth for several minutes as I told him all about it. Then Christian texted.

Me: Gotta go. It's Christian.

Dillon: Bye!

Me: Hey

Christian: As I said, I got a big lecture about sticking with my

curfew, but she's not angry.

Me: Good. She's not angry with me?

Christian: No way. She likes you.

Adults usually liked me because I was polite to them, but most of them were teachers. They always liked students who got good grades.

Me: Awesome. So when's our next date?

Christian: I want to see you play next Friday.

Me: I'd like that. We can go out for pizza or something.

Christian: That sounds fun.

Me: Awesome.

Christian: Night, Dare.

Me: Night.

I plugged my phone into the charger, put on some pajama bottoms and a T-shirt, and sat in bed to read a book until Dad got home.

Screaming and something crashing made me bolt upright in bed with my heart hammering. My sleepy mind struggled to clear, and I groaned at myself for falling asleep. When I stood, the book I'd been reading fell on the floor.

More screaming had me rushing to my door, opening it, and running into my parent's room to find Dad with a raised fist and Mom on the ground with her hands raised, protecting herself and sobbing, blood streaming down her face from her nose.

"Godfuckingdammit!" I yelled, rushing at him and tackling him like the lineman I was. We crashed to the floor, and I was instantly on top of him, punching the hell out of his face. My vision was bloodred, with no thoughts other than the need to fucking kill him.

There was no sound other than the smashing of my fist into his face. There was no color other than red. There was no vision other than his blood. No other thoughts crossed my mind, hyper-focused with a need to see him fucking die. I was fucking over this.

It was only a soft voice, calling my name, sounding like Christian, telling me to stop. Then gentle hands rested on my shoulders, pulling me back.

When I came to, I found myself straddled on my father's unmoving body, his face bloodied. I looked around the room, trying to find Christian, but I only saw my mother hovering over me, crying .

"Please stop, Darren. Don't kill him."

I held out my hands, palms down, as my body started to convulse with shaking, my knuckles bruised and bloody. Then, as the adrenaline wore off, the tears came. I shoved myself off my dad, leaned against the wall, and sobbed into my hands as the disgust washed over me like acid, corroding inside my veins, and straight into my fucking soul.

My mother sat next to me and pulled me into her. I held on and continued to cry. I couldn't remember when she'd last held me like this.

"It's okay. You're okay."

I shook my head, wanting to tell her I was far from okay, but I didn't have the energy or brain power to speak and argue. I wanted to ask her why she stayed with him. Why did she let him hurt her? But I already knew why. Still, I wanted her to fight harder. I wouldn't always be around to stop him.

When I finally calmed down, I gently pulled away from her and kneeled next to my father. He hadn't moved in a while. My gut twisted, the fear coursing through me that I'd actually killed him.

With trembling fingers, I pressed them to his throat, but there was still a pulse. I breathed out a sigh and unclenched my body.

"He's alive," I said. "Should we call an ambulance?"

"We can't afford that."

Maybe it was justice to let him recover in pain like Mom and I always had to do.

Though I was filled with regret and self-loathing, I leaned in close to him, unsure if he could hear me or not. "I warned you not to touch her. You're going to continue paying the fucking bills and keeping a roof over our heads until I can get her out of here. Understood?"

I didn't wait for an answer and left the bedroom.

I needed fucking air. Instead, I rushed to the bathroom and threw up.