Teach me how to fly

PART 2: His girlfriend

“Why are you doing this? I mean, Keith winks at every girl, why are you only protecting me?”

“Because I never saw a girl feeling this bad because of him. Every other chick till now liked being flirted."

“Thanks, then, Boyfriend.”

“You’re welcome, Girlfriend.”

He gave me a sexy smirk and left. He was a really nice guy…

It was weird how comfortable I was with him being close to me. I guess it’s one of those rare cases of feeling like you’ve known the person since forever and you can be yourself around them. For some strange reason Asher made me believe I could trust him from the very first time I looked into his eyes. There was something about him that screamed “Trustworthy”. Maybe it was the kindness inside them. Maybe it was he looked like he couldn't even think of hurting someone and that made me feel safe. Either way, it was a good thing I had someone to protect me from Keith. And being my friend of course.He could probably keep me sane, like Ali used to do.

She had always been the one keeping me strong. She was the one who kept me away from self harm. I swear I tried to help her, every day; if only I had done better, if only I had managed to save her. I should have been the one to fight with the monster that ate her up and steal her blades away. I was not enough, though, I had never been. 

During lunch, I bought a what looked like Caesar’s salad and sat down on a table alone at the corner of the crowded cafeteria. Teasing the lettuce with my fork I rubbed my stomach and dammit it still hurt.

The worst thing, though, was that I felt eyes on my back. Even if they weren't Keith's I hated having people look at me. Whenever I felt eyes on me at home, I ended up at the hospital explaining the doctors how I fell off the stairs.

Shivering, I shook the thought away and turned around only to find out that it was Asher who was looking at me. He grinned and I gave him a small smile. I focused on my salad again. Damn, I was not hungry. I was worried I was starting to grow anorexic but I just didn’t want to eat. I shoved the lunch tray away from me and fished my book. I hid amogn the words until the end of lunch when I threw my salad in the trash bin before heading to my next class.

After school, I didn’t want to go home… He was going to hit me again. I was sure he was.

I spent around twenty minutes at the bus station and in the end I decided to go to the local animal shelter. Ali and I used to spend hours there playing with little dogs and cats. My favorite was a Yorkshire Terrier Mini, called Zoey. She had the cutest snout in the world. Unfortunately, her owner got married and his wife was allergic to dogs so, Zoey ended up in the shelter.

"Avery! It's been ages!" Tommy greeted with a smile. 

Tommy Scott was about a year older than me and worked at the shelter four times a week, after college. We got along pretty well and he was really fun to be around but after Ali's death, I never came here again. 

"I know," I mumbled and he nodded.

"It's good to see you though. I really missed you," I added, forcing a smile.

He beamed. "I missed you too. You know where your favorite one is."

"Yeah," I said before heading inside, where all the animals were kept.

"Hi, girl!" I exclaimed and Zoey barked cutely.

"I missed you," I told her patting her small head.

She was just looking at me wagging her tail. Yeah, she had missed me too.

I stayed there playing and taking care of Zoey and a couple of other pets for two hours. I knew it was time to leave though. It was gettink dark outside and my house was not really close to the shelter. I needed at least twenty minutes to get there.

"Bye Tommy," I said sadly.

"Bye Avery. See you soon, hopefully."

"Sure," I said smiling.

"Avery, are you... okay?" he asked.

"Not really. I don't think I'll ever be, though. Bye," I said more to myself and raced off.

When I reached my house, I started breathing more heavily. I climbed up the tree and got into my bedroom. I plunged on my bed, found my sketch book and started adding some details on the picture of a wolf.

Well, I actually liked drawing wolves. There was something exciting about them; probably their strength or their eyes which reflected how easily they could dominate the world. I wish I was a wolf… I wish I was strong… This way I would find a way to make my so called Father stay away from me and get over depression. But no, that was just impossible up to so many levels.

~*~

It was a bit short but I think it was a nice one :)

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