Don't Stand By Me (COMPLETE)

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Kiara

August 6th: 01:20

"You want seven coffees? At this time?"

"Yes."

"Alright dear." The waitress jotted down in her notebook, tucking her pen behind her ear and fixing us with a blank stare, "I'll be back in a jiffy."

"You alright?"

I turned my glance to Brent, who was watching me with a strange expression I couldn't discern. Through no fault of my own, it was just us sitting across from each other in the gaudy yellow booth in this diner. Dixon and Cassie had wandered off to take an intense looking phone call from their father - probably wondering why he had barely heard from them all week - while Pearl had dragged Violet and Elvis into a Walgreens, claiming that since they'd kidnapped her they had to help her choose some new outfits. So there we sat, Brent and I, unable to make anything more than brief eye contact and stilted conversation.

"Yeah. How are you?"

"You can talk to me, you know."

"Can I?" I snorted, "I believe you said you were fucking done with me."

"I am," He shrugged, "in a sense. I'm not your number one fan right now, but you're a human. And I think we were building somewhat of an... understanding before you fucked me over."

I bit back a snarky remark and nodded, squaring my shoulders, "I don't know. I feel weird."

"In what way?" Brent asked, nodding to the waitress who dropped off the coffees.

"Cassie and I...hooked up when we were in that town and since then something's just been niggling in my brain."

"Yeah, we all figured."

I ignored him, willing the flush in my cheeks to die down, "It's just been weird with me since then. I've never had...feelings like this before. Hell, I've never had someone have feelings for me like this before. No one's ever...loved me before. In this way."

"I haven't done anything wrong!" I wailed as he stopped walking, "I'm just a kid! You're meant to love me!"

"Love you? Love you? You're a monster!"

I shook my head to wipe the memory away.

"Foster system really fucks with kids, doesn't it?" Brent smiled sadly, "I never got a chance to tell you about my experience, did I?"

I shook my head. He sighed, leaning back against the booth and taking a long sip of his coffee, closing his eyes briefly. He fixed me with a cool stare and began.

"I was adopted when I was sixteen, but before then, I was in two family homes and three group homes." His face scrunched up, "It was hell on earth. My second foster father beat me within an inch of my life. So much internal bleeding I heard the social worker say 'it was a miracle I survived'. I had never had anyone love me before, platonically or otherwise. This may be hard to believe," He smirked, "but I was a grade A loser. Tall, gangly, nose always buried in a book, all by myself. The other children hated me, the parents hated me. I couldn't win.

"Then one day, a few months after my...incident...this couple came in, dragging along a boy about my age with them, Isaac. Weirdly enough we looked kind of alike, tall, gangly, same hair. They told me I was a perfect fit. Of course I didn't believe them. I bided my time, waiting for them to get sick of me, like all the rest. I couldn't play football with my broken arm and everytime any of them went near me, I flinched. About six months in, I was really loving this family. I felt safe with them. Despite me trying my best to keep my distance, they wouldn't let me. I couldn't bear the thought of them abandoning me when I started feeling so at home. So I decided to make my own decision.