Chapter Twenty-Nine
Leaving's worse than Staying
“How about this one?” Colton holds the scarf up next to his face. “I’ve heard pastels are good for my skin tone, but brown washes me out.”
“Have you been watching What Not to Wear, again?” I ask. He once secretly admitted to me that it’s his guilty pleasure.
“Danielle had it on! And the woman’s fashion sense was so awful!” Colton defends, covering his hair with the scarf and tying it under his chin.
I smirk. “You look like a housewife.”
“But what does that make you?” Colton stares at me, a thoughtful fist under his chin, where the knot for the scarf is tied.
“The man.” I deadpan.
“Oh, really?” A wicked glint appears in his green eyes. Colton reaches for a tie but, instead of putting it around my neck, flings it around my waist. He pulls both ends of the tie, making me walk closer to him.
“Colton.” I place a warning hand on his chest.
“Yes, darling?” He breathes, bending his face down to mine.
“We’re in a store.”
“Correction: we’re in a secluded corner of the store.” Colton modifies my words.
I roll my eyes.
We ended up going to the mall to find a card for Adrienna. It was actually a short errand, since funny cards aren’t exactly hard to come by. Colton decided it would be fun to keep shopping though, so here we are in one of the trendy little stores. In a corner. By ourselves. With my boyfriend wearing a scarf like some sort of womanly headpiece.
“Come on,” Colton prods. He leans down so his lips barely brush against mine. “Live a little.”
I open my mouth to say that I am, in fact, breathing and therefore living, but Colton closes the space between us and kisses me before I can. And I, using the self-control that God gave me, respond enthusiastically.
That is, until my common sense catches up with me and I realize children could be watching us. I quickly retract my face from his.
Colton groans softly at the loss of contact. My hands are tangled in his hair (under the scarf) and his are around my waist. The tie seems to have disappeared.
“We need to get going. It’s getting late.” I tell him, unwinding my fingers from his brown hair.
“Fine. Fine.” He says good-naturally. He removes his arms from my waist in favor of grabbing my hand, pulling me to the store exit.
I quickly grab the scarf from his head and throw it back to where we found it; it might push Colton over the edge if we’re accused of shoplifting.
We don’t speak again until I’m almost half-way to Colton’s house (I managed to grab the keys from him on our way out of the mall).
“No.” Colton says. His voice is flat. “I don’t want to go home.”
“Colton,” I say softly, drumming my hands on the steering wheel. “You have to go home sometime.”
“But not right now.” He argues. He sounds tired and much older than his seventeen years. “Plus, I forgot my duffel at your house. What if I never get it back?”
I bury the urge to roll my eyes at his feeble excuses. “You practically live at my house; I doubt you’ll never get it back.”
Colton’s eyebrows dip as he tries to think of more reasons not to go home.
“We’re here.” I interrupt his thoughts and pull the car up beside the sidewalk.
A slightly stricken look crosses Colton’s face. He turns to me, his tone urgent. “Please, Cassidy, don’t make me go in there.”
My heart drops. I am such a mean girlfriend. But he has to face his fears sometime. I take in a deep breath and force my tone to remain strong and even, “You need to go inside, Colton. It’ll only get worse the longer you wait.” I lower my voice and add gently, “It’s going to be okay.”
“Right.” Colton attempts a brave smile and I’m reminded fleetingly of this same boy in school: always smiling, always laughing. How much of it was real?
“I’ll wait right here,” I say, compromising between leaving and staying, “until you tell me it’s okay to leave.”
Relief washes through Colton’s green eyes. “Okay.” He agrees quietly. Tenderly, he reaches over, cupping the back of my neck, and brings my face closer to his. He lays a loving kiss on my forehead, his lips soft. “Okay.” He repeats, opening the car door and stepping out into the grass. “Okay.”
His posture is stiff, his fists shoved in his pockets, as he climbs the front steps. He reaches his front door and turns, giving me one last, sad smile. He enters the house.
~&~&~&~&~&
I wait in my car for what might be minutes or could be hours. I lose track of time, just watching the front window of the Pearce’s house, wondering what is going on behind the closed front door.
Finally, there’s movement. Long, strong fingers pull open the front door and Colton slowly walks down the steps. His face is blank –almost haunted –as he approaches my car.
“He’s gone.” He says, unconsciously sliding into the passenger’s seat.
I search his eyes. They’re vacant, still bloodshot from his most likely tossing and turning filled night.
“Just gone.” He holds up a fist and opens it, revealing an empty hand in mid-air to symbolize his point. “Mom got mad. Dad got madder. And he just left.”
My lips part –my mind working frantically for something comforting to say –but no noise comes out. Only a strangled little peep. Colton turns to face me at the sound.
“And she’s so sad.” His voice cracks like a pre-pubescent boy but he ignores it. “She’s in there making meat loaf –which only Dad actually likes –and Danielle is holed up in her room. She wouldn’t even open the door when I knocked.”
He rubs his face roughly with his hand.
“It’s all my fault.” He utters the last bit so quietly I have to strain to hear him.
When I do, I jerk back instinctually and stare at Colton, telling him firmly. “No it’s not, Colton.”
“But if I hadn’t stood up to him-”
“Then he would have continued to verbally abuse you.” I interrupt. “He wouldn’t have stopped, Colton. He would have kept pushing and pushing until he got exactly what he wanted: perfect. No one is perfect, Colton.” I reach over and place my hand over his. “No matter how hard you try, he was never happy with you.”
I suddenly realize this is a very down-heartening pep talk. Quickly, I try to think of something not quite so depressing to say. “He never saw how funny you are, how your smile lights up an entire room –as cheesy as that sounds –or how much Danielle simply adores you. You and your mom have this easy relationship that shows how much you guys love each other. I’ve never met someone who doesn’t love you. Including me.”
Something inside me leaps when I realize what I’ve just said.
Gosh darnit it all. I just professed my love to Colton Pearce.
Shoot me now.
I tentatively glance over at the boy beside me.
Colton shows no obvious reaction at my accidental-confession. His face is still blank, although he seems to have lost his haunted expression. Perhaps my pep talk did some good.
Our matching green eyes meet. There’s something unreadable in his, though I’m sure mine are an open book. I did just tell him I love him, after all.
“Right back at ya.” He says, the familiar tinge of red creeping from the back of his neck.
With a jolt, I recognize this is his way of telling me that he loves me too. Not the most romantic, but his dad did just leave his mom. I’ll cut him some slack. It’s not as if my confession was oozing passion either.
“Do you want me to come inside?” I ask, breaking the strange silence that has descended within my vehicle.
For the first time since he went inside his house, Colton smiles. It’s a flimsy one –just one side of his mouth lifting higher than the other –but it’s a smile nonetheless.
“That’s okay. If I need you, I’ll call, okay?” Uncertainty flashes across his features, but his face relaxes when I smile.
“Okay.”
“I do need my gym bag, after all.” He says, that simple little smile returning. And, with a parting peck on my lips, he’s gone.
---------------
After this chapter, there's only one more left! Weird right? I'm almost done with this story :( If you liked this chapter or thought it was so horrible you just wanted to claw your eyes out, don't hesitate to tell me :)