3. Girl
She tells him everything.
Every detail from when her friend had gotten her baseball boyfriend to when the yelling wars began. He never interrupts and she never makes eye-contact with him, too afraid to see the shame, outrage and curious expressions she'd seen on her best friend's face when she'd been asking for advice. He remained quiet throughout it all, to her utmost pleasure, until she pauses at one point and he asks a question she's been dreading to ask herself from the start.
"What happened?" Her eyes blur and she stares at the table with far away thoughts. The good times of him and her make their way around her mind - snapshots of the two laughing together, or the date where he took her to a picnic. But then, there were the bad memories - his hand against her cheek, his large body standing in front of her crumpled figure on the floor.
"I don't know." They're quiet, sitting in silence. What had happened to her sweet, caring boy? How did he become the monster he is today? She sighs, this time her voice shaking. "I don't know."
He seems to understand immediately that what she needs is a hand to hold and a shoulder to cry on. She slowly looks up at him with cautious eyes as he swallows and nods, giving her a sympathetic look. They lock gazes and she knows that this is a boy who won't judge her for her mistakes and misunderstandings. No, this is a boy who will sit down and be her friend throughout it all, offering her ears to listen and a voice to coo comments that will make her happy.
"Where is he now?" he asks, his voice soft and soothing like silk pajamas after a hot bath.
She leans her head against the window and keeps her eyes locked on his, unable to find a reason to shift them somewhere else. "Our- his apartment," she stutters, her heart dropping an inch at the fact that she has no home now.
"Does he know you left?"
With eyes faded and damaged from experience, she shakes her head. "No."
He swallows again, and his voice shakes ever-so-slightly when he asks, "Will he try to find you?"
"Yes." He cringes and she shuts her eyes, unable to watch his expressions any longer. She has to believe that he won't find her this time.
She was careful - she knows she was. There aren't going to be any more bruises on her skin from another man's hand; there aren't going to be any more threats and hurtful words being shouted at her. She's a free woman now... with no home. She can't go home - she won't be able to look at her father or friends in the eye with those 'I told you so' looks from them. It's just something she won't ever be able to endure - no matter what.
"Where are you going?"
She smirks, and inwardly she wonders how this boy can make her mouth form in such a way she hasn't in such a long time. "Far, far away."
And, to her surprise, he smiles too, and says the words she's been secretly wanting to hear from him. "Me too."