Not Who You Thought (BxB Drama-Romance)

Blister

The taste almost makes me gag, I haven't eaten or drinken anything sweet in almost a month. In all honesty, I haven't eaten much of anything in a month. I tried to get one of the caramel coffees Charlie always bought me, but I ended up throwing it up in the parking lot. Baby steps.

"You will care if you get skin cancer," she starts. "You know it's a big prob—"

"Allison," I say hoarsely. "It's fine."

"Alright." She gives me a pitying smile. "Can I sit with you for a bit? I've been watching 90 Day Fiancé all day and I need some fresh air. I should probably touch some grass and talk to a real human, you know?"

"Sure." I set the bottle in the sand.

We sit in companionable silence for an indiscernible amount of time. All I want nowadays is for time to pass quickly. The days have ticked by in painfully slow minutes, minutes that I obsessively count when I am home alone and I don't know what to do with myself. Life is too slow, too violent, and too ugly for me to enjoy it anymore.

"You're not doing well," she states.

I shrug so high that my shoulders brush my earlobes. "Great observation, Allison."

"You're still sassy, though." She rests her elbows on her knees, and places her chin in her hand. "You can talk to me, Lucas."

"I'm so fucking tired of taking," I say bitterly. "First the cops, then a lawyer, and now my mom is making me sign up to see a trauma therapist. I keep talking and talking, but it's getting me nowhere."

"It's getting you closer to the end."

"What?" I demand. "What is the end? Everyone knowing that I didn't tell anyone that my boyfriend was getting abused by his dad?"

"It wasn't that simple. If it was, you would have done something. It's not your fault that you didn't understand what was going on. Charlie was excellent at hiding his pain."

I angrily wipe my eyes on my forearm. "God, and now I'm fucking crying all the time. I'm going insane, Allison. I keep calling his phone number even though all I get is a dial tone. I drive by the skatepark all the time, hoping I'm going to see him there. I scared the bejeebers out of some blonde kid skating because I thought it was him. He's gone, and I still see him everywhere."

"I'm sure he will contact you when he can," she says softly. "Charlie needs time to process what's happened to him."

"Do you think they shipped him somewhere far away?" I ask wearily. "Another state?"

"They usually keep kids in the same state and the same school district," she reassures me. "He might be back at school in the fall if he gets placed with a local foster family. I bet he'll be there, wearing a cute outfit for the first day of his senior year. Waiting for you."

"I'm worried about him. You know people that get sexually abused are prone to being abused again? What if he gets stuck with some family who hurts him? He's scared of men, and men love him. What if he gets taken advantage of and he freezes up and—"

"That's not going to happen," she interrupts me calmly. "You aren't giving Charlie enough credit. He's a strong, brilliant person. He endured so much and still always had a genuine smile when we were all together."

"I'm scared," I admit. "I'm scared of going to court as a witness. I'm scared to see him and tell the whole jury about the things I saw. They're going to judge me for never telling anyone about the way he acted."

"Sometimes I think you forget that you're still a kid. You're in highschool. You need to give yourself a break, okay? You were traumatized, too."

"Do you think he hates me?"