"He cheated?" He repeats my words in shock. His mouth is open and his caramel eyes wide and staring. I shift under his gaze and let out a heavy breath.
No one really knew he cheated on me except for Sarah of course. I intertwine my fingers, memorizing the lines on them as I spoke.
"Yeah I mean... We loved each other... at least I thought we did." I breathe, looking at my hands. "He was my best friend growing up... he knew me so well, sometimes better than I knew myself. I thought I loved him, I'm pretty sure I did... But close to graduation time I found out he was cheating on me and... my whole world came crashing down." I laugh at how silly it seems.
"I'm sorry that happened to you." His voice is soft and warming. I look at him and his eyes are dwelling into me. "I would never cheat on a girl like you." I smile but then his next words make me just stare, "I would never date though." he laughs lightly. "So the bastard cheated on you?" He brings me back to the conversation.
"Yeah..." I trail off, collecting my thoughts again. "I know it sounds like the stereotypical naive girl falling in love in high school just to be crushed by a boy." I shrug. "But I was in love... and he broke my heart that day... I spent the summer moping, my friend downstairs helped the most she could. Spent the night and took care of me." I mumble not sure where I'm going with this.
"I was hurt by what he did... but not to the point of not being able to function or think. I managed to still make a few good memories of high school thanks to my friend." That was a great thing about Sarah, even though I took care of her, she returned the favor anytime. She would do anything for me, we were sisters.
"Do you still love him?"
"I..." I pause, did I? Of course I still loved him. It hurt though to think about the time when I didn't know what to do.
The betrayal of when I found out, the way I thought I wasn't going to be able to have a life without him. Though here I was, talking to a handsome guy who was making flirty comments to me, at a party, having a life.
I knit my eyebrows together and focus on my fingers. "In some way, for some reason... I do..." I lift my head meet his caramel eyes that watch me with sincerity. "But after him breaking my heart... I just don't know about things anymore. I was so sure of us and after Matt doing that... I just have a hard time trusting people now."
"You're trusting a stranger." He points out.
"A stranger I'll never meet again." I counter with a smirk. "So what about you? Are you simply a frat boy player? Nothing else?" He bites his lip and I can tell he's debating what to say to me. "You can tell me." I breathe lightly, I slip my hand across the distance and rest it on his knee. His eyes shoot up and stare at me,
"Sorry." I pull my hand back but his hand quickly catches it. I feel a warmth growing in my stomach and my heart beating out of my chest as his touch ignites my skin.
"No.... it's fine." He breathes, placing my hand on his knee again. I smile at the small gesture. "I um... I have these memories and nightmares." He admits.
"Of what?" I ask softly, I can tell this is a hard subject for him.
"My dad used to beat my mum... real bad... I couldn't do much to ever help her but one day he finally left and... I was left with my mum and sisters." He doesn't look at me as he talks.
"I have nightmares of the nights at home when I heard my mum begging my dad to stop. I remember telling my sisters to stay in their room, under their beds. I tried helping once but he threw me to the side with ease..."
There are tears in his eyes. His hands are in tight fists, his knuckles turning white. I move my hand from his knee and take his hand.
He doesn't mind, his fingers intertwine with mine and I smile at our hands. His skin warms mine and it feels perfect... it feels right.
"I guess that's why I am the way I am now." He blinks away his tears and the sad boy is gone.
"What do you mean?"
"Well I never had a dad to figure myself after, the one I did have I never want to be... So I just... I see the way he hurt my mum physically and emotionally... and I don't ever want to hurt a girl physically or emotionally that way... So I don't really get close to girls."
"Because you're scared you'll hurt them?" He takes a moment to answer. I feel his thumb lightly rub against my hand and I can't help but feel the warmth grow in my body, the way my heart wants to jump out of my chest at the simple motion.
"Because I'm honestly scared they'll hurt me... I'm scared to get attached." His thumb now begins to trace designs along my hand, sending shivers through my body.
"I just... I've never been very trusting, especially of girls that weren't in my family. Don't know why." He admits sheepishly. "I just don't... I feel like it's easier to abandon a girl than to be abandoned. Take my chances with hurting them than them hurting me." He shrugs.
"So your dad left?"
"Yep."
"Maybe you just have a fear of people leaving you... I know you don't seem to like your dad but... Maybe you're scared they'll leave just like him?" I offer. He looks to me now, as my eyes have been fixed on him this whole time.
He clears his throat, standing and releasing my hand. I clear my throat and ignore the cold emptiness I feel. I know he doesn't want to stay on the topic so I clear my throat. "I don't have any horror story to tell you." I reply quietly.
"What do you want to do in life?" He offers, not ready for our conversation to be over. He sits down a foot away from me this time and I accept it. We are just strangers after all.
"I want to go into event planning. I love planning things, like I can just picture planning someone's wedding. Making a girls day perfect." I smile to myself. "I'm pretty organized and I think I'd be good at it." I nod. "I also am considering being a psychiatrist." I laugh at the irony. A boy telling me things about himself and I want to be a therapist.
"Funny isn't it?" he chuckles quietly. "You wanting to be a therapist and you're here listening to my messed up life." As if reading my thoughts, though I didn't think his life was messed up... troubled would be more appropriate.
"I have a messed up life too." I add in. "Maybe not as eventful but..." I trail off. My life wasn't really messed up, just boring. I don't' know how to finish my sentence so I move on. "What about you? What do you want to do?"
"I don't know... all I know is I probably will go home after graduation." He shrugs.
"Home?"
"Bradford. In England." He explains quickly. Bradford. I wasn't sure where that was.
"Oh..." I breathe, I glance at his knuckles, which are no longer bleeding but are raw. "So what did you punch?" He glances at me and down at his knuckles.
"A guy made me angry... mistreating a girl." He explains. I raise an eyebrow; I expected it to be something stupid, like a spilled drink.
"What's mistreating a girl to you? Because I feel like you might mistreat some..." I mumble. He did admit to hooking up with random girls. And we all know how sensitive girls are.
"Not the way he was... Most girls know with me it's a one time thing... he was grabbing her and forcing her to leave." He explains. Physical mistreatment. I nod.
"So you punch him?" I ask with surprise.
"I don't deal with anger well. Got a bit of a temper." He quietly responds, examining his knuckles. "Never really knew how, never really cared to learn." He shrugs.
"Another reason I don't like parties. All these fights." I mumble. The boys downstairs and him, I'm sure there were plenty other fights tonight too.
"Not like I want to fight... it's just a way I learned to deal with anger." He excuses himself. "I mean... I've never found a need to learn how to deal with it."
"Just like how you've never had a relationship?" I assume. He didn't seem like he would ever be in one.
"I never said that." He snaps. I flinch at the raise of voice. He hadn't been rude all night but this was coming out. I quickly respond to try and calm his hurt ego.
"I just figured... since you said you don't really trust girls, don't really spend time with them."
"I just don't like dating, it's not my thing. I don't like labels." He explains softly again. I'm thankful I didn't push his buttons to the point of no return. I purse my lips. "Anymore to your story?" He asks. I glance at him and shake my head.
"I mean my mom and I don't always get along but... I appreciate her." I sigh.
"Why don't you get along?" I watch him for a moment as I see interest sprawled across his face.
"I mean... I guess she kind of pushed me to be the person I am... I never got to be the person I wanted to be. I always modeled myself off of her expectation even though sometimes they were silly." I admit.
He doesn't respond, I don't expect him to. What should he say to this boring girl he's sitting with that complains about an ex boyfriend and mom when he had such a rough childhood?
"Am I boring you?" I ask worriedly.
"Why would you think that?"
"I mean... I'm probably not as fun or crazy a as most girl you spend your Friday nights with."
"Yeah your not."