Chapter Eleven - Let Me Help You

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Chapter Eleven – Let Me Help You

#11 Thing To Never Do In School: Tell the bad boy your life story.

Great. It was my turn. Where did I even start? When I finished my story, would Carson still be here? Or would he be mortified and intimidated? Will he run away – well not that he could at the moment.

"Harley," Carson started warningly, "We made a deal."

Alright, alright. Here we go. "My mother was sixteen when she became pregnant with me. My father was nineteen. They were teen parents who gave up everything because of me. My father's family kicked him out when he got my mom pregnant. And my mom's family was already pretty fucked up – or at least that's what she told me – so she left them to live with my dad.

"My mother took a waitressing job and my father worked for a landscaping company. We lived in a small apartment but for the most part, we were happy. I remember being happy. My father was fun and young and he was in love with my mom. My mom was loving and happy, and head over heels for my dad. The night my father died, everything changed."

I looked up at Carson to see if he was still with me. His eyes were locked on my face hanging on to every word. Reassured, I continued, "After my father's death, my mom never recovered. She started drinking a lot. She was fired from her job at the restaurant she worked for. We couldn't afford rent anymore and were evicted. We ended up on welfare. My mom started seeing men. Men who'd pick her up at bars, men who were old and gross and dangerous. My mom has never been the same. She's forgotten all about me – or at least she's tried to. She'll barely speak two words to me. She's never around, I'll wake up in the morning and see her passed out on the couch surrounded by bottles of beer. Some nights, she doesn't even come home.

"She spends all our money on alcohol. I try to hide some from her but the rest she spends on liquor. She won't look me in the eye anymore, she says I remind her too much of my father. She's just... a mess." I blinked. How had my life turned out like this? If my father were here now what would he think?

Carson's eyes were tight when he looked at me, his jaw strained. "Shit." Was all he mustered up.

I laughed humourlessly, "Yeah. Shit."

"And you said your dad died nine years ago? You've been supporting yourself for nine years? Since you were eight?!"

"More or less, yeah." I nodded. "When there's no one to look after you, you learn to look after yourself."

He put his hand on my leg comfortingly; I felt the weight of his hand immediately. Followed by the warmth and the strange fluttering in my stomach. He bent forward, looking at me seriously, "You said your mother's boyfriend hurt you. Does that happen often?"

I shook my head, "No, not often."

He frowned lividly, "But it's happened more than once!?"

I wouldn't meet his eyes, "Yes."

"Have any of them touched you?"

"No."

"Have they tried?"

I hesitated but succumbed to giving him the honest answer. "Yes."

Carson shot out of his seat, kicking the desk furiously. I flinched. "FUCK!" He roared, swinging his hand in frustration. He hit the mug on Ms. Jewel's desk with the back of his hand and sent it flying to the ground. It shattered into tiny ceramic pieces. The pens and pencils scattered everywhere. "When you thought I was going to hit you before? It's because you're used to it, isn't it?" He yelled, "You're used to men hurting you and trying to touch you. Fuck, Harley, fuck! Why don't you tell someone?" His face was ten shades red, eyes almost black in anger.

"I don't want to be taken away." I fought hard to keep the shakiness from my voice. "My mom needs me. I can't leave her."

"After everything she's done to you?" He questioned in astonishment. "She doesn't give a fuck about you!"

"SHUT UP, CARSON!" I screamed. "Shut up! Okay? Stop!"

"No." He gritted, "I won't let you live this way."

"It's none of your business."

He shook his head furiously, "Oh don't you dare. Don't you dare feed me that bullshit now. You telling me made it my business. I'm not going to stay here and watch you throw yourself in danger day in and day out just by going home! I won't fucking allow it."

"Why do you care?" I asked. "Just this morning you were trying to make my life a living hell. Why do you care?"

"Because I misjudged you. I gave in to rumours and I hurt you. I won't be able to sleep properly unless I help you. Not after everything I've done." He explained with a broken voice. He walked back over to me, putting his hand on my face, "Harley, you don't deserve this life." He whispered, so close that his breath hit my face.

"How do you know that?" I challenged.

"Because you're good." His eyes turned soft, he tucked my hair behind my ear, stroking my cheek with the tip of his fingers. "You don't hurt people even though they hurt you. You're strong and brave. You're beautiful. You're bright. You don't deserve this, Harley. You deserve so much more."

This was all too overwhelming. He was complimenting me; he was telling me I was good! When did Carson King have a personality change? Was it still him? Or were all these hours stuck in this room making me delusional? Making him delusional? "Carson," But I didn't even know what I wanted to say.

"Let me help you." He begged. Before giving me the chance to respond, he lowered his face and kissed me straight on the lips.

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This chapter's dedicated to AllyCat110 for always asking me to update! :) Here you go haha

Another PSA from Shay (that rhymes yay) *triple rhyme*

'that escalated quickly'

I've only read that comment ^ like a gagillion times. And frankly, I'm tired of it. So I will stay silent no more because even MY willpower isn't strong enough. 

Kissing is overrated. I don't understand why people think kissing leads to like engagement or something. A kiss is a kiss is a kiss. People kiss within a few minutes of knowing each other (go to a club - when you're legal - and you'll see). So I don't know why after Harley and Carson have poured their hearts out to each other, it's inappropriate for them to kiss. 

Say the timeline was normal and they kissed within a week of knowing each other. How many times would they have seen each other in that week? Would they have told each other their life stories in that week? Would they have established that connection? Would it be appropriate then? This is basically the information you find out on a few dates compacted into an afternoon because there is no distractions, there is no escape, they are literally trapped in a room forced to get to know each other. 

Why would it be odd that after hours of talking, just the two of them (with nothing but Kanye's music to keep them company), that they start to like each other? That they want to see if there's anything more between them by kissing? Because how can you really know if you like someone without trying it out first?

So I hope that explains things... and I swear if I see that comment ONE MORE TIME! (totally kidding I won't do anything but like sigh in defeat and feel like a mom whose words go through one ear and come out the other). But in all seriousness, I hope that explains my POV a little better and you understand where I'm coming from. 

Thank you for reading, I appreciate every single reader and it just means a lot for me to be able to connect with you, and be able to read your comments and address them so the confusion is cleared up a little.

Love,

Shay


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