Perfectly Wrong | Grayson Dolan

6

Grayson

Ethan and I got home and took quick showers before we got ready to go to the party.

I didn't know what it was—if I was nervous, excited, or both. All I knew was that I felt like I needed to keep Brooklyn safe.

My friend Josh gave me a handshake as Ethan and I walked into the party, and I looked around to find Brooklyn.

She was hanging out with Kylie and a couple other girls. I was glad to see her starting to be more relaxed around people from school.

I think she gets nervous about people judging her, because they haven't been so nice to her in the past.

I followed Ethan to the kitchen so we could get drinks, and then we headed over to the living room where Kylie, Brooklyn and the other girls were standing.

Ethan dragged Kylie away, leaving me to hang out with Brooklyn.

The last time I was alone with her was when we were stocking up the fridge at home and I realized how pretty she was.

Just a few minutes ago when I saw her, my stomach almost fell through my ass. I mean, Kylie must've done a full face of makeup on Brooklyn, and it made Brooklyn look like a fucking supermodel.

"Wanna go outside?" Brooklyn asked me. I'm sure she didn't want to stick around Kylie's friends without Kylie, so we went outside to sit on the front porch swing.

The party was mostly in the backyard and in the house, so it was quiet outside in the front.

"I never really understood why people like alcohol so much," Brooklyn said, staring up at the sky. "I guess I have reason not to understand though. My dad turned into a completely different person because of it."

"I think it's okay, as long as people are responsible about it, and as long as nobody is getting hurt."

Brooklyn nodded, now looking down at her shoes. "I don't understand how you don't ask a bunch of questions," she said. "I feel like most people would wanna know everything that happened, but you don't push it. It almost makes me more comfortable when it comes to opening up, because you're not begging me to, you know?"

"I wanna be a counselor someday. Whether is family or children, or even behavioral health."

"You would be good at it," she said. "Cause even I feel comfortable enough to say somethings that I've never told anyone."

"That's how it should be," I said. "You should feel comfortable, but not like you absolutely have to tell me. If you want to, that's perfectly fine. If you don't, that's fine too."

"He hit me a few times," she said. "That's not everything, but that's what I feel safe enough to talk about right now."

"Brooklyn, I'm so sorry. You didn't deserve that."

A tear trickled down her face, and my heart just about broke right then and there. I couldn't stand to see her upset. This wasn't her fault, yet it was something that would take years for her to heal from.

"Most of the time he was drunk, and he's angry when he's drunk. He was always trying to frighten me on purpose, and it came to violence. It started when I was nine. He became an alcoholic when I was seven, but he didn't hurt me for the first time until I was nine. The day I was old enough to, that's when I got this tattoo," she said, showing me her butterfly tattoo on her finger. "There's a permanent scar under it, and I hated seeing it everyday. The butterfly gave me hope instead of the scar reminding me of my trauma."

Taking her hand in mine, I studied the small tattoo. "The butterfly is beautiful, but I hate that there's such a tragic story behind it. I wish I could've been there for you back then."

"It's okay," Brooklyn said, not letting go of my hand, but lowering our hands to her lap. "You're here now."

I wrapped my arms around her in a hug, and she scooted closer to me as her head rested against my chest. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

She raised her head to look at me, our arms still around each other. "I know it's only been a few days, but you've shown me more care than I've ever had since my mom's been gone. It means a lot to me."

Not thinking, I kissed her forehead. The alcohol I had previously drank was starting to kick in, and I couldn't tell if it was a friendly gesture, or if I meant it to be more than that.

"I'm sorry," I said. "I wasn't thinking when I did that and I—"

Brooklyn cut me off by pressing her lips to mine in a slow, long peck. "It's okay," she said. "Sometimes thinking isn't a good thing anyway."

"Do you wanna go home and watch a movie?" I asked.

"That honestly sounds more fun than staying here."

"Okay. I'll text Ethan to tell him I'm taking the car."

I only had a beer and a half, so I was okay to drive. There was my cut off before I couldn't drive anymore.

Grayson: heading home with Brooklyn. See you later

I don't know what it was, but something about Brooklyn was making my mind go crazy. She was so pretty, and I felt like I cared so much about her in the few days I've actually known anything about her.

My mom was asleep when we got home, so we made some popcorn and quietly went up to my room.

To my surprise, Brooklyn's lips were on mine again as soon as the door was shut. I set the popcorn bowl on my dresser before my hands went to her waist, and she mumbled against my lips.

"Is this okay?"

"It's more than okay," I said, lifting her up.

Her legs wrapped around my waist as I carried her towards my bed, and I knew that this could be a very bad idea even though it felt so right.