I'm at school getting my books from my locker looking at the calender on the my locker door. Friday. Its Friday which means game night, what Mike (my boyfriend) doesn't understand is that my parents don't allow me to go to football games. Theirs lots of drinking and sex involved behind the bleachers, I don't blame them. Mike always says to sneak out but I know better than that when I say I don't want to he says I don't support him and he slaps me or punches me.
"Hey girly!!" says my best friend Morgan as I close my locker, she's always so hyper.
"hey.." I respond not really with any emotion.
"Friday...." she says as I just nod my head and walk to my next class. She knows that me and Mike argue but she doesn't know he hits me.
After school I walk to my car quickly not wanting to run into him. If I'm lucky I sometimes get away before his practice starts. I feel a tap on my shoulder and I turn around. Mike.
"Hey beautiful" he smiles like he always does on Friday night's. It's different than the rest of the weeks smiles. Its like he knows he's gonna hit me tonight.
"Hey" I fake smile.
"You coming tonight, right?" he lifts up an eyebrow.
"You know I can't keep doing this Mike. You know my parents don't allow it..."
"They won't know" he touches my cheek with hit thumb and rubs it.
"I know better" I whisper as I turn my head the other way. "I got to go"
"You're coming!" His voice gets more sharper. I nod my head no. He raises his fist and punches me in the stomach. I grab my stomach in pain and sit against my car. The pain... so much pain no tears come out. I look down, hoping just hoping someone saw, but no one is around.
"Nikki.. I'm sorry" he says. I usually just say it okay, get in my car and drive home.
"Why do you do this?" I ask this time.
"You make me do it, you know you are supposed to support me, you know you're supposed to be there for me. I don't mean to but you deserve it." I didn't know what to say, is it really my fault? I grab my keys from the floor and get up. He touches my arm but I pull away, I walk around to the driver side and get in driving away fast. I didn't know what I should do. Why did I have the courage to talk to him after he hit me? Why does he keep hitting me?
When I get home its dark out, I took the longer way home. I check the time knowing it's half way thru the game. When I get inside my mom's on the couch reading.
"Hey mom where is dad?"
"He's in bed" she says like I should know the answer, I don't want to tell my parents he hits me, they will make me leave him then Mike will kill me. I walk to my room and lock the door, looking at my long mirror I lift my shirt looking at where he hit me, I touch it and flinch at the pain. He's never left a bruise, but every time he hits me I always think it will but it doesn't. I love him, I love him because we've been through a lot. He's romantic except for Friday. He's funny and cute. I just wish he didn't hit me. I hate Friday.