In the Open

"What was that for?"

"What do you mean?" I gulp, trying to sound calm, although inside I'm terrified of what he's going to say.

"I was fifteen when it happened. My mom and my sister Layla had to come pick me up from football practice. I kept on complaining about how annoying my coach was that day. Such a small thing that didn't even matter, and yet I wouldn't shut up about it," he takes a deep breath and I kiss his cheek, urging him to continue and trying to show him I support him.

"She told me she had a migraine. But I didn't shut up, I was so selfish and angry and I kept talking about my dumb fucking coach, totally ignoring my mom. Then s-she turned towards me and told me to be quiet. It was only a second, but that's all it took. She uh.. she swerved off of the road. She just lost control of the car, and it wrapped around a pole. M-my sister.... s-she flew out of the windshield. My mom was dead on impact. It was all my fault."

I wrap my arms around in his neck and sob loudly. I feel awful for what he has gone through. He has blamed himself for the death of his family for years, and his dad has tortured him every day for it. This boy has suffered more than anyone I know. He's so strong and I wish he could understand that he was young, and it wasn't his fault. He didn't control the car, and he didn't make it crash.

"Nick Simmons, it was not your fault," I say as I look into his eyes and wipe the tears from his face, my heart breaking for him. "You didn't control that car. There was nothing you could've done Nick. It was not your fault."

He just nuzzles his head into my neck and holds me to him. I run my fingers through his hair and kiss his head, feeling him silently sob.

"I miss them," he whispers to me, and all I can do is tell him they miss him too. I couldn't imagine completely losing my family, or being abused by someone who is meant to love me. Yes, I don't get treated perfectly by my parents, but no one does. I should feel lucky because I still have them, and I have never had to suffer the way Nick has been the past three years.

He stays in my arms for what feels like hours, his tears completely soaking the fabric of my shirt. Although I couldn't care less about my clothes. He's hurting so bad, he always has been. I'm just happy he's finally allowing someone in to help him. Nick has been closed off from the minute I met him, with only a few moments of vulnerability slipping through.

He clears his throat and detaches himself from me, wiping his face and sitting back on the couch. I rub his hand gently and he gives me that heartwarming smile of his that never fails to put butterflies in my stomach.

"I'll get us some popcorn and put on a movie, yeah?" I ask him, not waiting of an answer.

I let my thoughts run free as I make the popcorn, watching the seconds tick by on the microwave. Nick has been pushing me away all this time because he's scared of what his father will do to him. Well, more like what he would do to me. I shake at the thought. He sounds like a repulsive man. He sent men to rape me for crying out loud. Luckily all of them were stopped, but what if they weren't? I could by lying dead somewhere for simply talking to Nick. Imagine if his father found out we were dating...

The microwave beeps and startles me out of my thoughts. I get the popcorn and pour it into a bowl, adding some extra salt because it's never salty enough.

"Delicious," Nick says when I come into the living room. I giggle at him as he gets excited, our previous conversation seemingly pushed into the shadows.

"You can have the first piece," I offer to him, but he just smirks at me.

I'm quickly pulled onto his lap and he lays a gentle kiss to my neck. I bite my lip, keeping my smile at bay. I don't want to look like the Cheshire cat in front of him.