So Much It Hurts (9 page)

A shadowy figure sat at the back booth in a dimly lit corner of the diner. A few other guys nearby were throwing darts at a dartboard that hung on the wall.

“Hey,” a deep male voice stated.

“Hey.” I squinted my eyes to adjust to the darkness. Just as my eyes focused, I realized it was Chris. My heart immediately began to pound. I glanced back at Trevor, but he was still lost in conversation and hadn’t even noticed I was gone.

“You’re a cheerleader,” Chris said flatly.

“Yeah…”
What’s he getting at?

“Humph.” Chris let out a disapproving grunt.

I immediately felt defensive. “Don’t go making judgments,” I told him.

“I’m not,” he backed off a little, tossing a French fry dripping with melted cheese into his mouth. “Just surprised, I guess,” he said with his mouth full. “Cheerleaders like you don’t talk to guys like me.”

“Cheerleaders like me?” I had never really put myself into the ‘snobby cheerleader’ category before.

“Didn’t you get the memo? Cheerleaders don’t give guys like me the time of day. I just—”

“No, don’t explain. You’ve made yourself perfectly clear. Obviously, cheerleaders
like me,
” I said, using my fingers as air quotes for emphasis, “shouldn’t talk to convicts like you, period.” I glared at him, more hurt than angry.

“Ouch,” he said, looking genuinely upset.

My face immediately softened. “I’m sorry,” I quickly apologized, embarrassed by my thoughtless jab. I wasn’t usually so confrontational. Trevor had kept me under his thumb so long, I had almost forgotten what it felt like to take up for myself. I stepped toward the bathroom door trying to escape from the awkward moment.

“It’s no big deal. I deserved it,” he said, looking down at an invisible spot on the table. He looked up again and caught my gaze with those dark brown swirling irises that whisked my insides to a pulp. A bashful grin spread across his face. Shyly, I glanced down at the floor, but slowly looked up and locked eyes with him again. I secretly prayed that he couldn’t read the emotions on my face like a book. Inching my way to the restroom to escape his entrancing stare, I quickly swung open the bathroom door and rushed inside.

I stood at the sink and looked at the mirror. Sitting in the diner, two very different guys had my attention. I chided myself for letting one of them control my life. I just wasn’t sure exactly which guy that was at the moment. I took a deep breath then stepped out through the doorway, back into the diner.

Chris was still sitting at the same spot he was when I had walked into the bathroom. I tried to ignore him. I hoped he didn’t see how much he affected me.

“What I meant was…you’re a lot nicer,” he said as I walked past his table, “and a lot prettier.”

I froze.
Did he say pretty?
“Uh…thanks,” I choked out.

“It’s just…well, you’re not like any of the other cheerleaders I’ve ever met before. You’re nice. Most cheerleaders wouldn’t even acknowledge me, but you were so friendly to me on my first day here. Thank you for that.”

I stared at him sitting there in the darkness of the diner. His chiseled jaw line perfectly framed his beaming smile. Wisps of his brown hair flipped out from under his gray, billed beanie. His sculpted biceps bulged beneath his black T-shirt. He looked even more gorgeous than I remembered from class. I could
not
will my feet to move. I was perfectly content standing there, becoming infatuated with everything about him. Oh, how I wished I could slip into the booth with him and talk the night away!

“Chris,” one of the guys, a few feet away, called out from the dart game. “Come on, dude. Let’s hit some corks.”

“I’m being summoned,” Chris said with a smile as he stood from the booth. I must have looked confused because he laughed and added, “It means let’s throw some darts and hit some bull’s-eyes.”

Nodding, I replied, “Okay, see you later.”

“I’ll see you around!” He tossed up his hand, waved, and winked at me as he walked away.

I caught my breath, suddenly realizing I hadn’t been breathing regularly the entire time I stood there. Quickly, I hurried back to join Trevor and his crew. I sat in silence as the football players continued endlessly recounting the moments of the game. Trevor completely ignored me as he regaled countless tales of his experiences that night. My mind wandered to the dark figure in the back of the diner.

“You ready to go?” Trevor finally asked.

“Yes,” I said gratefully.

Trevor kept his arm hugged around me as he walked me out to his truck. Once inside, he looked longingly at me. “It’s been a great night,” he whispered, carefully brushing a strand of hair away from my face.

“It has,” I agreed, although I felt sure it wasn’t for the same reasons.

Caressing my cheek, Trevor leaned toward me. He gently brushed his lips across mine. I could feel the energy surging from him as he began to kiss me. Surrendering to him, I let myself kiss him back, welcoming his tongue as it encircled mine. Reaching up, he slipped his hands into my hair and tugged me closer to him, eagerly sucking and nipping at my lower lip. I could feel an urgency in him that made me uncomfortable. “Let’s go…celebrate,” he said, his voice thick with desire.

I pulled away from him. “No, Trevor, not that.” I grew weary of his constant badgering for the one thing I kept sacred.

“Come on, Kaitlyn,” he said impatiently as he grabbed my face and kissed me harder.

I jerked my head back. “No,” I insisted.

“Why do you always lead me on, Kaitlyn? You always do this. We’ve been together almost two years. Not many guys would wait that long,” he growled.

“I didn’t. I mean, I’m not. I—” I stammered, taken back by his sudden anger.

“You. Are. Such. A. Tease!” He spat every word in my face, then shoved me away from him toward the passenger door. He turned the key in the ignition as his truck roared to life. The tires squealed, leaving black marks, as he sped out of the parking lot.

I hugged the passenger door. I couldn’t believe how quickly my perfect night had come crashing down around me. Trevor flew down the road, taking sharp turns much faster than he should have. I spent the ride praying all four tires would stay on the road. Pulling onto my street in my neighborhood, he grumbled profanities since he was forced to slow down over the speed bumps. Finally, my heartbeat returned to a normal rate knowing I would be safely home soon.

“Get out,” Trevor practically growled when we pulled into my driveway. “Call me when you aren’t so stuffy and uptight.”

He nearly shoved me out of the passenger door. Blinded by my tears, I stumbled to the front door. I quickly wiped the tears away on the sleeve of my jacket. I didn’t want my parents to question me. My mom wouldn’t understand. She still believed Trevor hung the moon and walked on water.

My parents were sitting in the living room watching the local news when I got home. “Wasn’t Trevor great tonight?” my mom asked with admiration.

“Yeah, that last touchdown was miraculous!” my dad exclaimed, sounding star-struck.

“Sure,” I said, feeling less than enthusiastic. “I’m going to bed. It’s been a long night.” I trudged upstairs to my bedroom.

“Okay, goodnight sweetie,” my mom called to me when I reached the top of the stairs.

I stared at my ceiling for a long time that night before going to sleep. Renae, my best friend from middle school, and I had spent hours one weekend researching constellations and strategically placing hundreds of glow-in-the-dark star stickers all over my ceiling. Although she and I had grown apart once we got into high school, I smiled at the reminder of our fun memories together—a time of innocence and happiness. Staring at the glowing “night sky” that Renae and I had created somehow brought peace to my broken spirit.

I regretted not slipping into the booth with Chris. If I had, I felt sure my night would have ended differently. No one suspected my heartache. No one knew the longing I had in my heart to be rescued from the nightmare of Trevor. I felt trapped, like a caged animal, desperately clawing at the metal rods. Finally yielding to my futile efforts for escape from the cage that I so willingly had walked into, I gave up all hope of freedom by lying listless in the corner. I was a pawn in Trevor’s game of chess just waiting for his next move. I never thought of myself as a coward. I had always been strong-willed and never viewed myself as a weakling, but for reasons I didn’t understand, Trevor had a power over me that I felt like I couldn’t overcome. As soon as I tried to walk away, he would pull me back with his pleading declarations of love. If that strategy didn’t work, he’d remind me of his 9mm handgun. I kept hoping that things would change and get better, but they didn’t. My fear of Trevor kept me running like a hamster on a wheel going nowhere; I hated myself for it. I was too scared to do anything about it. No one grasped the pain that I felt as I forced myself to look happy on the outside, while a war on the inside raged out of control.

The following Monday, I found Trevor waiting for me by my locker before school. He grinned. “There’s my girl.”

I never knew from day to day what kind of mood Trevor would be in when I saw him. “Hey,” I said dryly.

He caught me in a hug and held me close for several seconds. “I’m really sorry about what I said the other night. I love you so much, and couldn’t imagine my life without you. Are you still mad at me?” he pouted, looking like a lost puppy.

“Yeah,” Caleb teased from a few lockers down. “Don’t be mad, Kaitlyn. Trevor would be lost without you.”

I looked at Caleb who shot me his best puppy dog look also, and then grinned.

Ugh.
“I guess not,” I caved.

“Good!” Trevor lured me with his enchanting smile that got me every time.

I smiled half-heartedly at him as he headed off to class. When he got halfway down the hall he turned around and blew me a kiss. I reprimanded myself immediately for forgiving him so easily. I decided that Trevor had some kind of magical power over me. His mystical power was the only explanation I had for his ability to change my mood, and my mind, in one instant.

When I got to Theatre Arts class that day, I was relieved to see Chris sitting in his usual seat. A couple of students were gathered around him while he strummed a guitar. Ms. Carducci kept a variety of instruments in her classroom to use for props and accompaniment during our rehearsals. Chris’s fingers strummed effortlessly while he sang the words to a song I had never heard. His voice was soft and smooth like velvet. I sat down in my seat, mesmerized by the sound of his tender voice. The tardy bell rang just as his song ended, and everyone quickly rushed to their desks.

Leaning toward me, he whispered, “I wrote that song while I was in juvie.”

My eyes grew wide. There’s that word again—juvie. I remembered Eva’s warning.
You just never know…

“It’s okay,” he laughed as if he could read my mind. “I’m not a psychopath. I’m not going to hurt you.” His deliciously smooth, dark chocolate eyes found mine, and I instantly felt comforted.

“It was stupid,” he explained. “I burned down some old lady’s barn by accident. We were messing around with some firecrackers when some hay around the barn caught on fire. When it started to get out of control, we got scared, hot-wired the old lady’s Buick parked nearby, and took off. They got me for trespassing, arson, and grand theft. But, don’t worry, the barn was empty, and the old lady got her car back. It was just a stupid mistake, and I got caught. Definitely learned my lesson though.”