Moonlight Kisses

his crime

I came home late Sunday evening. Not because I got so caught up with Sophie that time seemed to fly by, but because after I left her house without a single word to her, I sat in a Target parking lot and cried. Nothing like a good car sob session outside of a retail store. Solely because I couldn't be attacked with a series of questions from my family that I couldn't provide answers to. So I parked my car once I realized the waterworks weren't going away and let myself crumble under everything. The kiss, the confession, the fight, all of it.

When I finally did get home, I was able to pretend everything was fine. I ate dinner with my parents and Kat. We talked about normal things like school and work. My weekend trip came up once and briefly, thank god. It's safe to say that was a good distraction.

And then nightfall came. And everything hit me again all at once. Beau's words kept replaying through my head like a scratched record player. Every syllable more gut-wrenching than the last. The aggressive tone at which he spoke to me. He shouted his throat raw to try to get through to me. And he did. Just not the way he intended.

He wanted to warn me of Jake's motives.

The only thing I picked up were the cruel words he chose to communicate his worries with.

"...like some desperate whore!"

"...he'll see you like the slut you are!"

"He wanted to fuck you! That's all he wanted. He didn't want you. He never wanted you."

"You're nothing but a foolish whore."

I thought it was only the truth that hurt me. But it wasn't until that night as silent tears fell onto my pillow that I realized Beau's words had cut deeper.

He's called me numerous things. And I him. Yet this argument was far worse than any of the other ones. It was more painful. It shouldn't be this way. I shouldn't give a shit what he says about me. Beau's pissed at the world and he takes it out on everyone else in his life. I know I'm not exempt from that treatment.

So why does it hurt so bad?

That question repeated itself over and over again as I got ready for school the next morning. I reprimanded myself for letting it affect me this much, but I kept doing it anyway. Beau means absolutely nothing to me and yet his words have this much power over me. God I hate it. Every bone in my body, every tear that I've shed in the past 24 hours despises him, wholly. I actually let my guard down around him. I laughed with him, I talked to him, I participated in his stupid fucking banter and look where that got me. I let myself get too close.

Kat pops her head into the doorway with a soft smile. There's a sense of pity behind me, but I don't know if I can rehash yesterday's events without the feelings washing over me again.

"Hey," I mutter, keeping my eyes focused on my vanity mirror. I didn't actually feel like putting on makeup, so I just did the basics: mascara and lip gloss. I have to at least make myself look presentable. Besides, I can't go to school looking like I just crawled out of bed because that'll only inflate Beau's ego more and the last thing I want is to make that asshole feel better about himself.

She sits down on the small stool beside me and studies my face. "When you came home last night, you didn't seem like yourself," she begins cautiously.

Kat has always been able to read me better than anyone else. It's one of her many gifts that I hate. "Kat, I really don't want to do this," I sigh.

"Whatever it is, it's bothering you and I need to know who's ass I'm going to be kicking. Is it Jake? Or Beau? I love Sophie but if she did something to you I won't hesitate to fuck her up." She punches her fist into her open palm at the words "fuck her up", making it that much more exaggerated. I know my sister, when it comes to Sophie she's all talk, she wouldn't actually fight her. She'd probably give her a good tongue lashing, but she would never lay a harmful finger on her.