So Much It Hurts (12 page)

As I made my way back into the club I stuffed Chris’s phone number and screen name into my jacket pocket. Trevor must have still been in the bathroom. There was no sign of him or Eva anywhere. Caleb was standing by the bar holding onto a bar stool to steady himself. Allison and Eric were dancing in the middle of the dance floor. A slow song was playing through the speakers, and they didn’t seem embarrassed to make out in front of everyone.

“Where’s Trevor?” I asked Caleb.

“I don’t know,” he slurred. “Where’s Eva?”

“I have no idea,” I told him.

Just as the words came out of my mouth I saw them staggering toward the bar together. Eva was giggling while Trevor leaned on her for support.

“Hey guys,” she said as they got closer to us. “Trevor wanted me to help him find you, Kaitlyn.”

“There’s you are!” Trevor announced, nearly incoherent from the alcohol. “Lessgo home….I’m think I drunk.”

“That’s an understatement,” I muttered, annoyed by how the night was turning out. I wrapped my arm around him and helped him as he stumbled to my car.

“Thanks, babes,” Trevor smiled that drunken stupor smile that nearly churned my stomach as I climbed into the driver’s seat. His head clumsily bobbled back and forth as he slurred, “You’re da best!”

I just rolled my eyes and started the engine. About halfway home, in the middle of a sharp curve, Trevor bunglingly leaned out the half-opened window and puked. Vomit streaked down the window and onto the car door. “Sorry,” he sputtered as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“Oh gross!” I shrieked. “Trevor, good grief! That’s disgusting!”

I sped to his house and ushered him to his room. Flopping down on his bed, jeans and all, he immediately passed out. I didn’t even bother to take off his shoes. Instead, I hightailed it out of there to escape the disgusting stench of bile and beer that burned my nostrils.

On my way home I drove through an automatic car wash. The nauseating scent of alcohol and vomit still lingered inside my car. I couldn’t wait to escape to my bed, my safe haven of fluffy pink pillows and plush microfiber blankets. The four walls of my cozy bedroom served as my sanctuary. The white eyelet comforter that I’d had since I was four draped carelessly over my bed. Pillow shams stacked around my head like a soft barrier against the harsh reality of life. The sooner the night ended, the better.

I wanted so badly to pick up the phone and call Chris just to talk to someone. His soothing voice would calm my nerves and help me sleep soundly. I restrained myself from dialing his phone number and spent the rest of the night in a fitful sleep.

Trevor came to school the next day reeking of stale beer and cigarette smoke with a faint hint of vomit.

“Good grief, Trevor, did you shower today?” I asked him when I got close enough to really get a whiff of him.

“Not yet,” he groaned. The hangover was evident by the dark circles under his eyes. “Coach Harrison is going to let me shower in the locker rooms this morning. He told me I better shape up before class starts. He didn’t want his star player getting a bad rep and making him look bad. I’m headed down there now. I’ll see you later.” He grabbed his bag and headed down toward the locker rooms.

The school day could not have crept by any slower. The minutes felt like hours. I was so tired from my restless night of sleep. I had too much on my mind to care about school. Trevor avoided me most of the day. I didn’t know exactly what was going on with him, but he seemed to wear a guilty look all day. His avoidance suited me just fine. I needed some time to think anyway.

Trevor met me at my locker when the last school bell rang. He definitely looked and smelled better than he had that morning. The scent of his cologne reminded me of dry woods with a hint of musky leather. My stomach did flips when I saw him. He looked as gorgeous as ever when he gave me his award-winning smile. He had some kind of hypnotic ability with those hazel eyes. I scolded myself for being spellbound by him.

“So,” he asked, “are you ready to see the movie tomorrow?”

“Really?” I squealed with delight. I couldn’t believe he was actually making good on the promise he made after practice that day to take me the ‘chick flick.’

“Sure. I promised I’d take you.”

“All right, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow evening then.” I looked at him suspiciously, wary of his sudden kindness.

“Oh, by the way,” he leaned toward me, whispering, “some people were telling me that you were talking to some guy outside the club last night. You better pray I don’t find out who it was, and you better hope to God I never hear of you doing that again—for your sake.” Narrowing his eyes, he patronized me by patting me on the shoulder as he walked away.

I stared into my locker and tried to process what had just occurred. Tears worked their way to my eyes as I fought hard to keep them from falling. I wish I could’ve just walked away from Trevor and never looked back, but I knew that couldn’t happen; his death threat was always in the back of my mind.

On my way to practice that day, I saw Chris standing by the vending machines. I used the excuse that I wanted a soda to go over and speak to him.

At our school, mostly drug dealers and gang members hung by the vending machines in the quad. It was no surprise that most school fights took place out there. Members of the so-called popular crowd never ventured to that area, and cheerleaders
never
bought snacks out of the vending machines. Purchasing tiny packages of sugar coated, saturated fat was against some secret diet code. I planned to buy
two
packs of Marshmallow Dream Cakes; I was feeling rather rebellious.

“Hi,” I said shyly as I dropped the coins into the slot.

“Hey, you,” he grinned. “What brings you out here?”

“I didn’t eat lunch,” I fibbed.

“Well, it’s good to see you.” Chris winked, stuffed his hands in his pockets, and leaned back, propping one of his feet against the brick wall behind him.

“Thanks. Actually, I’m glad I bumped into you, too,” I offered sheepishly.

“Really? Why? Is everything all right?” he suddenly sounded very protective.

“Yeah, at the moment…” my words trailed off as I turned to look at the snack choices in the machine. I knew he was staring at me, burning holes into the back of my head with his glare.

“Kaitlyn,” he said, “you’re the nicest, prettiest girl I have met at this school. Yet, there is something about you that seems…off. It just feels like you’re hiding something. I have seen you crying several times now, and the dark circles under your eyes tell me that you aren’t getting enough sleep. I don’t know, you just look like you could use a friend right now—someone to talk to that could help you. I could be that person, you know. I could help you.”

I whirled around, narrowing my eyes and giving him a look of adamant determination. “No. I can’t let you get involved.”

Reaching over my shoulders, Chris placed his hands against the vending machine behind me. He towered over me, but leaned down to look me square in the face; his forehead nearly brushed against mine. The heat of his breath against my face caused my own breath to hitch as he almost closed the gap between us. My heart skipped a beat under the intensity of his stare. The longing in his eyes said everything and nothing in the exact same moment. With pure conviction he whispered, “I already am.”

A rush of relief spread over me. Tears dripped down my cheeks. Maybe I would finally be able to admit how terrified I really was of Trevor because at that moment it seemed I had a protector—someone who could see through Trevor’s charm and deception. I couldn’t believe I was outright crying in front of him. This guy. This stranger. I just couldn’t stop myself.

Chris hesitantly wrapped his arms around me. My heaving sobs became stronger as I buried my face against his chest. “It’s going to be okay,” he assured me. He held me until my crying subsided.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Cupping my chin in his hand, he looked directly into my tear-filled eyes. “You are so sweet, and damn, you’re beautiful. You are worth it, Kaitlyn. Keep telling yourself that.”

My lip quivered and the tears threatened to fall again. “I have to go. I have practice,” I said, even though I didn’t want to leave him. I felt secure in his arms. I couldn’t believe this guy I barely knew and had only spoken to a handful of times, this ex-convict, could make me feel so safe—so free to be me.

His eyes searched mine. “Do you want me to wait for you?”

“No,” I instinctively covered the bruise on my arm. “I’m meeting my boyfr—Trevor, after practice.”

Chris glanced down at my arm as I made futile efforts to hide the bruise. It seemed obvious that he heard me hesitate on the word ‘boyfriend.’ Chris took a step back and glared at me with piercing eyes. “Is that what this is about? Your boyfriend? Has he been hurting you?” The anger immediately rose in his tone. “Don’t tell me that I’m going to have to fuck up some punk who thinks he can lay a hand on a girl?”

“No, it’s not like that…not really,” I attempted another lie.

“Oh, really? Well, then what’s this bruise on your arm?” He looked at me accusingly as he lifted my arm to point out what I already knew was there.

“I—” I couldn’t formulate a lie fast enough and dropped my eyes in shame.

“I knew it,” he yelled, punching the side of the vending machine with his fist. The noise echoed like a gunshot.

Startled, I flinched.

Before I had time to think, his arms were around me, hugging me protectively. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. He held me there, trying to swallow back his anger.

“It’s okay,” I assured him.

“No, it’s not okay. I didn’t mean to scare you. It just pisses me off to see some asshole treating you like that. It’s not right, Kaitlyn. Don’t worry. This,” he declared, pointing to my bruise, “won’t be an issue any more.”

I wasn’t sure how he planned to fix it, but I felt secure knowing that somehow I would be protected from Trevor once and for all.

I nearly floated to practice. The other girls looked at me inquisitively. They wondered what had me looking so aloof. They would never understand. I knew they wouldn’t even try to understand. I didn’t bother to explain it either. To them, Chris was a convicted felon crouched around the corner waiting for his next victim like some kind of monster. They would never give him a chance to prove himself otherwise. They would never believe that the monster I dated was far more dangerous than the monster they saw in Chris King.

Trevor came by my house that Saturday. “Hello, Mrs. Davenport,” he said, dazzling my mom with his cheesy smile and charisma when she answered the door.

“Hi, Trevor,” my mom responded, obviously fooled by his act.

I never talked to my mom about the arguments Trevor and I had. As far as she knew, he was still as wonderful as that night two years prior, when he impressed her after the baseball game. “I hope your parents are doing well,” she said.

“Yes ma’am. My mom is almost finished with her nursing degree, and my dad is as busy as ever at work.”

“That’s great,” she said warmly, “I’m glad to see your dad’s business hasn’t suffered during this recession.” She walked into the kitchen to wash the dishes from dinner. I was just finishing some homework at the dining room table as he made his way over to where I was sitting.