Chapter Fourteen

My brain is pounding against my temples. Or is someone knocking? Blinking a few times, I struggle to fully open my eyes. Swallowing the lump in my throat is like forcing cotton balls down my mouth is so dry. The pounding resumes as I rub my eyes. Definitely my head, but also someone is knocking on my bedroom door.

"Ahem," I clear my throat. "Come in," I call out as I struggle to sit upright. I didn't drink that much last night. Did I? I yank the covers to my chin as the door to my bedroom swings open to Kyson grinning at me.

"Drink this. Take this." He tucks two painkillers into my palm while handing me a glass of what I hope is plain orange juice.

"What time is it?"

"Nearly noon. My mother sent me up to do a welfare check. She has the day off and thought the two of you could have some girl time. Her words, not mine."

"Girl time?"

"I can tell her you're not up for it, but then she may have questions about what we were doing out so late last night. You also may want to get a new cell phone." He hands me my very cracked, very destroyed phone.

The sight of my yellow iPhone is enough to bring me to tears even though all my important photos are backed up to the cloud. It was one of the last things my father bought me. He was proud that he had been able to afford it. He earned decent money. Enough that we never went hungry, but being a single father wasn't easy on him.

"What?" Kyson stares at me as I battle against my sadness.

"Nothing." I sniffle. "Shit. Matt," I say on a groan.

"You're still thinking about him," his tone drips with acid.

My fingers go to my lips, remembering what we were doing last night in that church. In the morning light, the guilt nearly flames me alive.

Kyson's lips slowly tip up, showing he knows that Matt isn't all I'm thinking of.

I consume the painkillers and throw the blanket back, not realizing I am only in my underwear and his borrowed shirt.

His gaze lingers on my legs.

"Stop perving and get out."

He runs a palm up my thigh. "Make me."

I open my mouth to yell at him, but footsteps on the stairs have him walking away.

I close the door, careful not to slam it in the fashion I imagine doing. The heat of his touch lingers, and I try to shake away the urge to call him back to touch me again. I grab my laptop out of my backpack and hope that I can get ahold of Matt to explain. Before I start to message him, I need to come up with my story. Another lie. I seem to be doing a lot of that since I arrived here.

I return to the bed and sit cross-legged, balancing my computer on my lap. Logging in, I already sense that this conversation with Matt is going to suck.

The first post at the top of my feed is of him tagging me, asking if anyone can reach me. I'm a terrible girlfriend. I should have messaged him first thing when we got in last night but after Kyson's buddies showed up at the church, I got suckered into hanging out and listening to them bitch about not getting laid and how there's nothing to do but get shitfaced. I sipped on my drink, trying to dull the desire to drag Kyson to his car to make out some more.

Thinking about it now has me tingling in places it shouldn't.

Then I got sick, and Kyson had to hold my hair while I puked and his buddies laughed at me for being a lightweight. But last night I slept. I don't recall waking up at all.

I open our last chat.

I'm alive. I'm sorry. I dropped my phone, and some dude stepped on it. Totally destroyed. Going with Uncle John's wife soon to get a replacement.

Who was answering your phone?

Just some dumb guy from school. He thought he was being funny. I don't even know his name.

Glad to hear you're alive.

Don't be mad at me, Matt. I didn't mean to worry you.

Well, you did. I left the bar early because I felt bad about blowing you off. I thought we could talk. Was up all night worried to death something had happened to you. But it's whatever. I gotta go.

I don't want to fight. I'll call you as soon as I have my new phone set up.

He leaves me on read. I get that he's upset, but I didn't break my phone on purpose. Like he said, it's whatever, I guess. One problem at a time.

Staring at my reflection as I brush my teeth and wash my face, I can't stop remembering last night. Being alone with Kyson in that church. If his friends hadn't shown up, would we have stopped? Would I have wanted to?

My skin flushes pink at the visual in my head of Kyson sitting there with his head thrown back, all broody and dangerous. Wicked.

I push away those sinful thoughts and dress quickly. I meet Helen in the kitchen. "You missed breakfast." Her gaze stays on me as I grab a couple of muffins to pick at.

"Guess I needed the rest. It's been a long week."

"Are you settling in okay? Kyson said the girl you rode to the football game with ditched you and he had to give you a ride."

I catch myself before I snort at the lame excuse. "Guess everyone loves to pick on the new kid. It's fine. I was lucky he was able to pick me up."

"Some retail therapy might help."

"Is there an Apple store around? I clumsily dropped my phone and shattered the screen."

"There's one near the outlet mall."

"Cool."

"Hope you don't mind spending the day with me. I always wanted a daughter to do all the fun girlie things with. Having more kids wasn't in the cards though and, well, with my work schedule, I don't get much time for friends outside of the job."

"Well, to be fair, I've never really had a mom to do anything with, either."

Helen shoots me a sympathetic smile. One full of pity. I hate it. The last thing I want, or need, is her feeling sorry for my lousy lot in life where my own mother is concerned. "Kyson doesn't like to go shopping?" I smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"Kyson shopping?" Helen laughs, looking delighted at the idea. "Dear, the boy barely tolerates a Game Stop. The only time he's stepped foot in a mall was when he was forced to go with me to get some new sneakers and even then, he spent most of the time sulking in the arcade."

"Sounds like him," I say, chuckling. I can envision the scene clearly–that brooding scowl on his face as he waited impatiently under the fluorescent lights of some upscale department store.

Helen rises from her chair, her gaze thoughtful. "If you're not in too much of a rush… why don't we make a full day out of it? We could get your phone fixed, do some shopping, and maybe get our nails done. Catch a movie even and get sushi. It's been so long since I've treated myself."

"That sounds great." I return her sincere smile. A day out with her might be exactly what I need to get my mind off Kyson and last night, and my fight with Matt.

"Perfect!" She claps her hands together with anticipation. "If we go now, we should be able to get squeezed in at Divas for a mani and a pedi."

"So, tell me about this Matt guy. How long have you been dating?" Helen glances over at me as the technician files her nails while I get a foot massage.

"Around three years this Christmas."

"You must miss him a lot."

"I do." My stomach churns at the current topic, reminding me how many times I've betrayed him since my arrival. The tech doing my feet glances up at me and I can tell she's smiling under her mask.

"He must be quite the catch to earn your father's approval. He was always so protective."

"It helped that he worked with his dad. They were close."

"I hope you know that we're thrilled to have you staying with us. I know Kyson can be difficult. It's my own fault. I take full responsibility. After we lost his father, I coddled him. Let him get away with far too much and now it's too late to do anything about it. John's tried with him, but in his eyes he thinks of him as a stand in. A poor man's replacement. He resents him."

"Must be hard for you having the two men you love the most at odds."

"It is," Helen admits, her gaze flitting down to her nails. The technician continues to file them unfazed, the whirring sound filling the silence. "I'd always hoped in time they'd learn to see past their differences. But I don't think that day will ever come."

"Kyson and I are getting along just fine," I add quickly. She looks relieved at my response, a weight visibly lifting off her shoulders.

"I'm glad to hear that," she responds, a warm smile gracing her features. "Despite his rough exterior, Kyson's got a good heart beneath all that armor."

"I can see that," I tell her honestly. It's hard to deny the connection between us, no matter how complicated it might be.

Deciding on a late lunch, we find a small cafe tucked away in the busy mall. As we sit across from each other sipping on iced lattes and eating our club sandwiches, I find myself genuinely enjoying Helen's company. She's funny and kind-hearted, full of stories about Kyson, giving me more insight into who he really is. Not the jerk who does and says what he thinks will make him look cool.

There's still a hurt little boy trapped inside him, who misses his father and wanting someone to truly love him.

I can relate to losing your father, unfortunately, and craving the love of a parent who doesn't want you. My mother for me and John for Kyson.

My new phone vibrates with a text from Matt. He's still angry about last night. I didn't mean to worry him. It's not my fault my phone was broken.

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to pry, but is everything okay?" Helen's gentle voice pulls me from my thoughts.

"Matt's just worried about me," I confide, setting the phone down on the table. "I didn't call him last night because my phone was broken. He's a bit upset."

"You know," Helen begins, her gaze softening, as though she's thinking about her own experiences, "relationships can be tough, especially when you're living in different places."

"I know," I reply, rubbing my temple. The headache that has been building since morning finally hits home.

Helen does her best to distract me from Matt with more stories of Kyson's antics. Her recollections paint a picture of him that differs vastly from the brooding and mysterious guy I know now. It's strange to imagine him as anything other than a trouble-making attention seeker who happens to be a great kisser. Listening to her talk about him coming to the hospital with her to volunteer at the children's ward is as if a veil has been lifted and I'm seeing a whole new side to Kyson I never would have imagined existed. By the end of our meal, I feel like I've gotten a better glimpse at the type of guy he can be, yet I'm also left feeling more confused than ever about my feelings towards him.

After finishing with lunch, we separate for a bit. I need some new jeans, and Helen said she needed to get a few things. I pretended not to notice her going into Victoria's Secret to shop lingerie.

My cheeks flush as I wonder what Kyson would like to find me wearing under my skirt the next time we're alone.

Right on cue, Matt shoots me another text at an opportune moment to remind me that Kyson isn't the guy I should be having such thoughts about. The lunch I consumed threatens to make a reappearance as guilt claws its way up my throat in the form of acid reflux.

Sorry about earlier. I just miss hearing your voice. Getting to kiss you anytime I want to. Are you free to talk tonight? I don't want to fight with you. I love you and can't wait until next year when we can be together all the time.

My heart sinks a little as I read his text, as more guilt washes over me, clinging to me. Weighing me down. Despite everything, Matt never fails to remind me that there are good guys out there and the sweetness of his text solidifies that he cares about me more than Kyson ever could. I quickly type out a reply.

Give me a call after dinner. I miss you.

Glancing up from my phone, I spot a Hot Topic. There's some new tees in the window that catch my attention. Shaking off my residual guilt, I step forward to hunt for one to go with the jeans I just bought.

Eventually, Helen returns from her solo excursion with a sense of triumph and a Victoria's Secret bag swinging casually from her arm. She doesn't comment on her purchases, and I don't ask her about them. The last thing I want to hear about is her new thongs or whatever it is she bought to entice Uncle John with. Their sex life is none of my business and I'd rather go on pretending I don't know that they have one.

The afternoon passes in a blur of going to different shoe stores to find Helen some new work shoes. Despite having known her for years, today feels as though we're really getting to know each other, and I hope we'll have more days like this one.

On the way home my thoughts drift back to the boy I want to hate and can't. I can't help but wonder what he's spent his day doing.

Has he been thinking about me?

About last night?

Will he tell anyone?

Will he use it against me?