It Was You (4 page)

"Not allowed?" he asks with a voice filled of humor, walking forward once more. "You're going to let some dickwad like Kyler Porter tell you that you can't have friends?"

My defense kicks in but the only words that seem to come to surface is, "I have friends."

Jaron continues to walk forward ignoring my remark. He's good at that apparently. Typical guy I'd have to say... if I knew typical guys.

Walking faster, I catch up to Jaron as he grabs the helmet from his bike. He doesn't slip it on his head like I assumed he would, instead he shoves it forward for me to wear. I shake my head, letting him know I honestly cannot join him. "I can't. I need to get home anyways."

"You're telling me you walked a couple miles in eighty degree heat to say hi to a friend just to walk home again?"

My eyes focus on anything but him. "Something like that."

"Let's go."

"I said..."

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. You can't. I'll give you a ride home. Don't need you to get heat stroke."

Knowing he won't give in I pull the helmet from him with an attitude he doesn’t deserve but I can’t seem to help, and place it over my head. He smiles in victory but doesn't say a word as he climbs back over the bike, kicking the stand up and revving the engine. He waits for me to join, which takes me a minute to do. I have to talk my nerves down a bit first.

When he pulls from the parking lot he heads the opposite way of my home. I slap at his stomach to tell him to turn around but of course he doesn't. He completely conned me. I should have seen the signs. Then again, I'm horrible at reading them.

Sylvia's is a popular diner in town for the old folk crowd. Jaron pulls in without hesitation, parking his bike right up by the door. A man probably in his eighties is exiting his vehicle next to us. His eyes squint at the look of Jaron- judging him without knowing a thing about him. Something we all do, usually without realizing it. Jaron doesn't seem to notice though, and if he does, then he truly does not care.

I give the old man a smile when he glances at me. I think he’s judging me too, probably wondering what a young chick is doing with someone who looks as hipster as Jaron.

Knowing I'm not going to walk the five miles back home in this heat, I humor Jaron by entering into the facility behind him. Once we're seated in a corner booth he takes my menu and looks it over, smiles, then places it on the edge of the table. It takes a moment for me to get over the shock of his audacity. "What do you think you're doing?" I ask.

"Waiting for the waitress."

His cocky response doesn't impress me either. "Can I have my menu back?" I hold out my hand, waiting for him to give it over.

He doesn't even budge. "I got this," he answers.

My eyes narrow. He instantly reminds me of Kyler and I don't like it at all. "Whatever." The words grumble out of my mouth angrily as I stare out the diner's windows at the traffic passing by.

After the waitress leaves with an order to feed six people, I can feel Jaron staring at me. I don't understand his interest in me whatsoever, but I don't question it. In fact, I continue to stare out the window to avoid him altogether. There is a large field off in the distance, past the road and vehicles. It looks to go on for miles without an end in sight- although I know it eventually comes to a wooded area that has a large stream running through the center of it.

I want to get up and start running through that field. I want to get out of here. I can feel my body begging to run but something keeps my ass planted to the seat. I have to remember the days are closing on until I can leave this place once and for all. Kyler, my mom, Bruce, everyone.

"What's your story?" Jaron asks.

Glancing over, I watch his fingers twist the straw wrapper around while he stares curiously at me. "My... story?"

He nods his head in response.

"I graduated high school yesterday, I'll be going to Texas in the fall for college. In the meantime, I'm just me. What about you, what's your story?"

The smile that slides across his face could melt the panties off most any woman in the world- however, I know better. I know how guys work. He's going to pretend to care, pretend to be different, he'll be attractively adorable and amuse me, then he'll get in my panties and leave. And for that reason, I'm not giving in. I'm not allowing him to seduce me with his charm.

"That isn't your story." He says it in a way that makes me have to question myself, like he actually knows me better than I know myself.

Again... the arrogance.

"Yeah, then what's my story? You know, since you know me so well."

With a slight chuckle, he thinks on it for a moment, then proceeds to read me better than I thought. "You put up a front to push people away when really you want someone in your life that pays complete attention to you. You feel like you're an inconvenience to people, which is why you don't allow them in. You have a secret, or a few of them, and you're scared to letting anyone, even your best friend, in on them. You've been secluded and uptight for so long that you are craving to let go but you're too scared to."

Even though everything he says is right on the dot, it pisses me off incredibly. Maybe because I don't
want
anyone to know me the way he does. I don't want people knowing my secrets or trying to figure them out. They're mine for a reason, because they're embarrassing and hurtful and... So incredibly wrong. I hate myself for even having to hide this stuff. What I hate even more than that, is knowing that someone like Jaron can figure out things in my life so easily.

Without a second thought, I slide from the table and head towards the door. I hear Jaron yell something to me but I don't listen. Once I'm outside, I head for the field across the street. When my feet hit the grass, I take off through it, not giving a shit about ticks or snakes or anything else for that matter.

The hot wind hitting my cheeks as I start to sprint feels good against my skin, even more so when tears start to break from my eyes. Jaron hit a spot no one ever has before with me, and that is without even doing anything.

With the tree line in sight, I feel a pull on my arm. My body whips around and becomes enveloped in large arms that are both comforting and terrifying. I can't allow this to happen. I can't allow him into my life. I've been strong for so long, and he's breaking me in less than twenty four hours of knowing one another.

I can't allow this to happen.

Squeezing my shoulders with his hands, he pulls me away from his body, causing me to look him square in the eyes. They're intense. "Don't push me away, Ravyn." The seriousness of his voice has me taking several deep breathes.
Inhale, exhale,
I remind myself. Blinking away the tears, I nod my head, as if to tell him I'm not going to run. At least not right now. "I'm sorry if I upset you."

"You didn't," I quickly tell him.

"Bullshit."

We both stare at one another. How did I get into this situation with him? What's his fixation with me? Why?

"You didn't," I repeat after a few minutes of silence. This time my tone isn't nearly as harsh as before. My body isn't as tense. I've already given up on this fight, because I'm weak.

Jaron's arms drop to the side and he looks past me. "Where were you heading anyhow? Swimming?"

"No."

"You weren't going to make it very far then."

"Wasn't planning on escaping, I was planning on..." I can't even answer that because I didn't have a plan. I don't know what I was going to do. I don't have much money saved up nor a vehicle to get from here to there. I have no food or clothes with me. Basically I ran from the dinner to get free, even if for a moment.

"I should have minded my own business. I'm sorry." Jaron's apology hits me hard. I can tell he is sincere in his words, not like when Kyler apologizes for giving me a black eye. Even though he says he's sorry, and I honestly am not angry with him, I can't find the words to speak. I don't know what to say.

When I don't say anything back, he continues. "I have a fucked up past, too. Shit I don't want to share with the world either. So how about we keep our secrets just that, and we stay friends?"

"Friends? We're not friends." My words are full of bite but they don't seem to effect Jaron any.

Running his hand through his hair, he turns to look back to where the diner is. It's barely visible from where we stand. "We can be."

"I... I can't be friends with you."

Walking around Jaron, I head back to the restaurant. This lunch is going to be awkward but I know he's not going to let me escape his presence. Not getting more than a few steps away he adds in, "It'll be our little secret."

For the first time, it's a secret I don't mind keeping. I only pray it doesn't get me in serious trouble.

"The food was incredible, thank you," I tell Jaron when he pays the tab. I feel guilty having him pay for my meal too, however he ordered it all. I doubt I could afford it anyways. I feel even guiltier that he hardly touched his portion of the food.

"My grand dad used to bring me here when I was a kid. I haven't ate a meal here in about sixteen years."

"You mean you used to live here?"

He grins at me like he's holding in one of those secrets, and now I find myself wanting to know his story even more. "I told you, I've lived a little of everywhere. Plus, I had to visit my dad once in a while."

He hands me the helmet when we get back to the bike. I stare at him for a few minutes before placing it over my head. There is definitely more to what he says but it's not my business. I have to remind myself of that over and over. I'm not typically a nosey person but Jaron intrigues me like no other.

When Christensen Park is in view I feel an anxiousness wash over me. I don't want to go home. I don't want five o'clock to come around. I don't want any of this. The closer my escape date is in sight, the more I find myself wanting to disappear.

Jaron keeps the bike idol as he parks off to the side of the road. I climb off the back and hand him the helmet. "Thanks again," I tell him, this time with a small smile. It was nice to get away for a little while, even if I'll probably have some kind of punishment for it later on.

"I have tomorrow off." There is a hopeful gleam in his colorful eyes that I'll hang out with him tomorrow, but it's just not worth the risk.

Even though I only work in the morning, I tell him, “I’m working all day.”

Instead of looking disappointed he smiles softly. "Alright Ravyn, if you say so."

"What is that supposed to mean?" I ask. He doesn't answer though, instead he slides his helmet on and takes off, leaving me in his dust. I stare at him until he's back onto the tar road and disappearing out of sight. Immediately I feel lonely, the typical empty shell of a person that I tend to feel more often than not.

Bruce is inside the kitchen when I return. He glances over at me with bloodshot eyes as I walk past. "Hungry?"

"Just ate, thanks."

"Glad you can afford to eat out," he mentions with a hard tone. He hates anyone that can do anything for themselves, mainly because he is a junkie that lives off state benefits, all the while my mom goes to work five days a week and actually somewhat provides for us. Mainly for him.

I've always hated my mom for throwing away the life we had for someone like Bruce- a person who pretends to be a man. Who is controlling, obsessive, and uses her. Who may have never laid a finger on Mom, as far as I know, but is equally as abusive. He uses her emotions, tempts her with drugs, and forces her to do things I never would have pictured my mom doing when I was a child.

If my dad saw how things changed since his passing away, I can only imagine the rage he'd have. I wish he could come back, even for one day, just to wake Mom up. Show her how fucked up she is- and how everything that she’s allowed into our lives has affected us all.

It obviously won't happen though, no matter how hard I hope and pray, so just like the situation with Kyler, I let it happen. I know one day it'll all disappear, at least for me. One day that is finally so close- yet still so far away.

"Why don't you get some cleaning done then? This house is a fucking mess," Bruce tells me the moment I settle on the brown couch, straight from the eighties. The house is always a disaster, no one picks up after themselves except for me.

The first time Kyler asked to come to my house I was insanely embarrassed. I had never let anyone visit me before except for Dawn. She hasn't even stepped foot into my home since we were fifteen, and never once spent the night. How Kyler doesn't curl his lips in disgust each time he enters my home is beyond me. I somehow think he likes it though, since he's here far more than I am at his house.

Standing from the couch, I walk into the kitchen and start to fill the sink with warm water and soap.

"Can't even respond to me?" Bruce asks.

"Sorry," I mumble.

He stares at me, shaking his head back and forth. "You're lucky you're not my daughter. I'd back hand you for the disrespect."

"I wasn't being disrespectful." I peak over at him, waiting for the blow. He's never laid his hand on me either, but it wouldn't surprise me in the least if he did. I know it wouldn't hurt nearly as much as Kyler's touch- he's fragile and weak, due to all the things he injects into his body.

When he first got with my mom he actually had meat on his body. That disappeared long ago.

Apparently my words piss him off even more than he already was, either that or my apparent attitude, but instead of hitting me he picks up a plate from the counter and smashes it onto the floor. Dexter jumps from his sleeping position on the floor and runs into the living room. I stare at the mess on the floor knowing I'll be the one the clean it up.

Walking out of the kitchen, Bruce grumbles a bunch of words under his breath, including the words
whore
and
cunt
. I'd have to assume he hasn't had his fix for the morning, if he had he'd be somewhat more tolerable. When his bedroom door slams shut, I walk over to the broom and dust pan.

My phone vibrates in my pocket so I pull it out to read a text from Dawn.

Dawn
:
Sooooo... how'd it go?

Me
:
What?

Dawn
:
Don't play dumb with me. Lunch. How was it?

Me
:
Delicious

Dawn
:
My God girl! Just tell me how it was?! How'd you meet that guy? He's smoking hot! What about Kyler?....

I'm thankful Kyler isn't here when I receive the messages. He'd have a field day with me.

I don't even know how to respond. Dawn may be my best friend but she gossips. Somehow this is going to destroy me. I should have known better than to let him follow me in. I should have had more will power and kept Jaron away completely. He's the calm before my storm, I can sense it.

Me
:
Just someone I met. Won't be seeing him again, don't worry. I'm still with Kyler. Please keep this between us.

Dawn
:
I will, I promise. But you can always hook a girl up. Right? ;)

Me
:
If I see him again...

I hate that I basically just lied to Dawn. I may keep secrets from her but I never straight out lie to her. More than that, I think I'm lying to myself. Will I be seeing Jaron again? I know I shouldn't, I know I don't have a reason to, but I can't help but feeling myself
want
to.

Maybe it has something to do with the fact he actually gets me- which also terrifies me to the extreme. Nobody is supposed to get under my skin the way he already has.

Taking my mind off Jaron, I sweep up the broken ceramic from the floor, then I continue with the pile of dishes on the counter. Afterwards I take out the trash and do the rest of the cleaning around the house. As I'm finishing up my mom pulls into the driveway.

Walking through the door, she drops her keys onto the end table. Using her free hand to remove the lit cigarette from her mouth, she looks around the house. "Impressive. Mind grabbing the groceries from the trunk?" She doesn't even look at me, but at least this time she showed some kind of acknowledgment.

"Sure," I respond before sliding on my sneakers.

The bedroom creaks open. "Did you buy my steak?" Bruce asks in his still pissed off tone.

"Yeah, I bought two."

"Good. I want steak for dinner, with potatoes and that sautéed shit you make with it."

Mom sighs but doesn't back talk him at all. "I'll start when Ravyn brings in the groceries."

I head outside as Kyler pulls into the driveway with his pickup truck. He hops out of the driver’s seat and helps me bring in the bags, getting them all in one trip.

"How was your day, beautiful?" he asks, pressing his lips to my cheek. Anyone with two eyes would assume we were a happy, loving couple. He puts on a good facade in public, even if it’s only in my driveway.

Sometimes I even think he may actually care, just a little bit, then I am reminded once more he only cares about his image.

Giving him a smile I tell him it was alright. I don't mention anything about what I did today, except that I cleaned the house. I had made sure to erase the messages between Dawn and me already so he didn't see them. Then he continues on about his day at work. He works for his dad doing government bullshit.

They've basically been working towards getting people off welfare, which is ironic considering he's about to eat a meal purchased with food stamps. I don't open my mouth about it though, instead I listen to him talk about his day while we get everything put away.

Mom walks out and starts up the oven to broil the steak, then pulls out several potatoes and vegetables so she can make dinner. "Want any help?" I ask, knowing she'll tell me to get lost.

"Just get me a cigarette," she orders.

Once I hand her the pack and lighter, she slides one between her lips and lights it, then starts cutting up the food.

*--*--*

Filled up on dinner I climb into bed with Kyler. He rented a movie for us to watch tonight and although we both work tomorrow morning, he insisted that he stay the night again. He usually only does on weekends, per his dad's request, but now that school is done with he's able to do as he pleases. Being only the first full day of summer vacation, I can tell that this is going to be the longest few months of my life.

"What time do you get out of work tomorrow?" he asks, settling in next to me.

He pulls his shirt from his body and I hate that what he reveals underneath is so nice. I remember the first time I watched him play basketball, I was drooling from the benches. I never imagined I'd ever speak to him, but he saw me watching him, winked in my direction, and once practice was over he came over and spoke with me.

I had butterflies and heart flutters. He had told me he had a crush on me and was happy I finally noticed him. It was unbelievable. Too good to be true. I was scared to pinch myself because I hadn't wanted to wake up. Everything about Kyler Porter made me happy, especially when he asked to be mine.

Then I found out he was never mine. However, I was his. He owned me in so many ways. He always will- and I'll forever hate him.

"I think four," I answer his question. It's a full eight hour shift, but I'm asking to stay longer if we're busy. My manager Rebecca is usually good about letting me stay a little longer if I need it. She's met my mom and Bruce- she thinks it's because I don't want to come home to them. When in fact, I don't mind being here most days, so long as Kyler isn't here too.

He brushes some hair from my face, tucking it behind my ear. I try to focus my eyes on him instead of the TV since I know that is what he wants.

"I do too. Why don't I pick you up?"

"If you want to. I was going to try to pick up a few extra hours though."

He looks at me with confusion. He doesn't understand why I enjoy working so much, because I know he hates it. He wouldn't dare admit that to anyone except me because his father is more about work than he is his family. Maybe that is where Kyler gets his lack of empathy from. Daddy issues or what have you.

"You know, when we get married you won't need a job. You may as well quit now and let me take care of you."

My heart starts to race. Where did marriage come from? Does he not recall that I'm heading to Texas in the fall?

"I need the money for college," I remind him. I hope he doesn't plan on following me there.

"You're ridiculous, Ravyn. I know you have this fantasy all picked out in your head, but you'll never make it in Texas alone, and you certainly won't make it through college. You earned a scholarship, which means you need to keep your grades up, but we know you're not all that smart."

Well this is news to me
, I think in my head. I should have expected him to try to talk me out of going, but he hadn't yet so I presumed he wouldn't.

Then again, I have assumed a lot of things that are far from the truth.

I want to mention that I got my scholarship because of my grades, but that'd be arguing with him and that's not okay. Instead I give him my best attempt of a smile and tell him, "Well, I'll try."

"This is fucking stupid," he continues his argument. I can see him only getting angrier at the entire idea. I'm not sure why now, rather than when he found out I applied or when I got accepted. "We get it, you got in, big fucking deal. It's only because you wrote an essay about your father’s death and the living conditions you're in now. They felt bad for you. You're always getting people to feel bad for you, that's the only reason Dawn or anybody sticks around. It's time for you to start taking responsibility for your life instead of throwing pity parties all the fucking time."