Manipulation >> Becstin

Chapter Thirty Two

Becky's POV

"Don't! I swear to God if you-" I'm cut off my Austin busting a waterballon over my head, "You're going to regret that, Mahone!" I shout as I fill up another balloon. As he tries to elude me I smack a balloon on his back.

"Ahhhh!" He pretends to dramatically die like a warrior on the battlefield. As he clutches his back as if a spear was there he falls to his knees. I giggle and run up behind him, and put my arms around him. He immediately gets up and grabs the back of my thighs. I feel my body rise from the ground.

"Austin!" I scream.

"I love it when you scream my name, babe." He says smoothly, I smack his shoulder.

"You're such a perv." I whisper in his ear. I witness the goosebumps that rise on the back of his neck.

"Ahem. Could you get off now?" He asks hoarsely.

I jump off of him and look at him in the eyes for the sudden change of moods.

What’d I do now?

"Did I something wrong?" I ask sweetly. He shakes his head at my innocence.

"Do you know what it's like to have someone you love so much that you wish you could just kiss the fuck out of them every second of the day?" He asks me. I furrow my eyebrows at him and shake my head.

"It's like this: every second that I spend time with you Becky I always want more of you." He licks his lips, "The more I talk to you, the more I crave you and I obviously can't have you." He doesn't break his gaze from me.

"I-I'm, I honestly don't know what to say." I confess.

"You don't have to say anything." He sighs.

"What was I like...back then?" I ask him. I know he explain our history together, but he never told me how I acted, who were my friends, if I was in the right crowd or not, if I was a push-over or if I was a major bitch.

"You were intriguing. You interested me. There was something about you that I felt I could tell you everything. Like I could trust you with my life. Like, I could be myself around you. The real me. Not Austin the asshole. You know? You-you had his power to take over everything in my life. You basically became my anchor when I felt lost. I guess you awoke the person inside of me that was fighting to get out." He explains.

"Really? I did that?" I ask.

"Yeah." He replies. 

"Was I a nice friend?" I ask.

"We were not really friends to begin with." He says. I cross my arms.

"Well. I didn't actually like you when we first met." He says. I raise my eyebrows as a gesture for him to continue.

"That was until that one night." He smiles at the memory.

"What?" I ask impatiently.

"That one night I basically spilled my guts to you. And you told me everything about your life." He says.

"Like what?" I quiz him.

"Like how you grew up as a latch key kid so you never had the privilege to blow your parents off, and how you spent more time in a car driving to your next house than actually staying there. And how you grew up in the slums picking up syringes and putting them into empty milk cartons to make sure the kids in your neighborhood stayed safe." He says. I feel my heart drop at the accuracy of his words.

I told this boy my entire life story and he remembers every word I said.

Is he...