"What are you thinking?" he asked as I stared at the fire, my head swirling with questions I couldn't answer.
I considered lying. But I didn't. "I'm thinking about you, Paul. More specifically...I'm thinking about us."
Paul grabbed my hand and pulled me up to stand. I faced him, his hands pressed to the small of my back and his eyes searching mine. "Are you okay, Rachel? You're shaking."
I'm frozen. I can't say what I wanna say and I'm screaming inside. He smiled at me and hugged me tightly. "Let's get you inside," he whispered into my ear, giving me goosebumps.
"Where are you going?" I asked when he didn't follow me inside the house.
"I still need to go home, you know, to get a few things," he reminded me.
"Oh." I joined him at the bottom of the stairs and tugged on his hand. "Then let's go."
He didn't move. "I don't think your dad will like that, Rachel."
"Does he know...about your dad?"
"He guessed."
"My dad went to bed and Jake is busy with his friends. Let's go. We'll be right back." He finally relented and we walked to his house, his hand never leaving mine.
~♡~♡~♡~♡~♡~
"Paul?" I pushed the front door open slowly. He told me to wait outside, but he had been in here for a while and I had started to worry.
When I opened the door completely, I found him on the couch, with a piece of paper in his hand. "Everything okay?"
He didn't look at me. He stared at the paper with his jaw clenched. "Paul?" I knelt in front of him, trying to shake him out of this daze.
He blinked quickly, wadded up the paper and threw it over my head. "He's gone," he breathed. "He left."
I didn't know what to do for him. Personally, I was glad he left, but Paul was sixteen and how awful must it be to have your parent abandon you by choice? He just stared at me, devoid of any emotion. "What can I do?" I asked, hoping there was some way to help him through this.
He pulled me off the floor and set me across his lap. I gasped when he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly against his body and resting his head on my chest. I held him just as tightly, smoothing my hands over his back and wishing I could take his pain away.
Suddenly, I felt his breath in the crook of my neck and his lips on my skin. He pulled at my clothes and pressed me back on the couch. When he hovered above me, I pushed him back. "Please, don't."
He settled between my thighs, pushing against me through our clothes, and lowering his mouth to mine. "Paul...stop!"
He clenched his jaw and jerked away quickly. "Just get out."
"Don't do this, Paul," I pleaded. "Don't push me away."
He sat at the opposite end of the couch, he wouldn't look at me. "I don't want you here."
I reached for him and he batted my hand away. "Go!" he insisted.
"I'm not leaving you like this."
He sighed and stood, pulling me off the couch and toward the door. "I'm not your problem anymore. So just go...and don't come back here."
I stood in front of him and held his face in my hands. "You're mad about your dad, I get that, but don't push me away!"
He yanked my hands down from his face and held them behind his back. "Then give me what I want," he challenged.
"Why are you acting like this?"
He released me and shook his head. "Don't you know? I'm an asshole. This is what everyone was trying to tell you. And now you can see it for yourself."
"This isn't you."
"Oh it is. I'm done pretending to be some lovesick puppy for some chick who's never gonna want me back. So let's just skip to the end of the summer, where you leave and I never get what I want."
I ran my hands through my hair and shook my head. "I thought we were friends."
He kept advancing toward me, backing me up to the front door. "So that's why you got all turned on when I played with your hair today? Or why you wanted me to sleep in your bed with you? That's what you do to your friends, Rachel? No, thanks. I'm not interested in that kind of torture."
"I wasn't trying to torture you. I was...I wanted..."
"You don't know what the fuck you want...except maybe a boy toy to entertain you while you're stuck here for the summer. Well...you can find someone else...cuz I'm done with you and your games."
I stared at him, my mouth open. I couldn't believe this was how he really felt. His expression softened for a moment, but it was too late. I pushed him away and yanked the front door open. I ran away and finally let the tears fall. I can't even go home. I can't face Jacob and his friends.
I can't let them know they were right all along.
~♡~♡~♡~♡~
Three days.
It had been three days since I ran away from Paul.
He hasn't come by the house or the diner. Everytime that damn bell rings, I wanna look up and see him standing there with that stupid smirk on his face. But why? Whenever I miss him, I wondered why. He said the most awful things to me. I kept hearing his words echoing in my head.
I hated that he was right about some of it. I'm not gonna be with him. I am leaving at the end of summer and I can't give him what he wants. And dammit, I liked the attention and the affection he gave me. I've really missed it. But how fair is it for me to use him and make myself feel good when we won't be anything more than friends?
Shit. I've sleep walked through the last three days. I hid at the beach after I left Paul's. I waited until I was sure everyone was asleep before I went back home. Then I spent the whole next day in bed pretending to be sick so I wouldn't have to face Jacob.
I should've listened when they tried to warn me about him. I should've listened to my gut when it screamed not to trust him, not to let him in, and not to let myself care about someone. I just should've known better.
I sighed as I entered the house. It's quiet except for the sound of Jacob chopping wood from the backyard. Wow, Dad's been asking him to do that for weeks now. Wonder what's up his ass?
I decided to be a good big sister and make Jacob a sandwich and some lemonade. It sounded like he was working hard.
"Hey! You want some..." my voice trailed off when I came around the corner and realized that wasn't Jacob chopping wood.
When he approached me, I stood there, stupidly staring at a sweaty, shirtless Paul. A million things ran through my mind as he took the lemonade from my hand and drank it. I shoved the sandwich at him and ran for the house.
"Hey!"
I wasn't ready for this. I stood outside his house for a half hour last night just thinking of all the things I wanted to say to him, but I'm not ready to do this. I can't think. I couldn't face him last night and I can't face him now. I can't let him in again. He's not gonna hurt me again.
"Rachel, come on I just..."
"Seriously, Paul?"
"Sorry..."
I stood in my room, clad in nothing but my bra and panties. "Can you get out...please? Can't you see I'm changing?"
"I didn't know. I just wanted to...talk to you," he sputtered, his eyes darting away.
"I don't wanna talk. Just go!"
"No." He's approached me cautiously.
"No?" I echoed.
"You gotta let me fix this, Rachel," he pleaded.
"Can I get dressed first? I mean, I wouldn't want to be accused of oh... I don't know...torturing you," I replied, my voice dripping with sarcasm.
"Don't do that."
"Don't do what?"
"Repeat all those horrible things I said to you...I didn't mean them."
"I'm pretty sure you did." I pushed past him to get to my closet. I angrily pushed the hangers around trying to find something to wear. "You obviously must believe all that shit you said to me or you wouldn't have said it."
"You know why I said all that."
"No, I don't. As far as I know, I'm a bitch and a tease and..."
"Stop," he breathed into my ear as he wrapped his arms around me from behind. He held me like that and I don't know why, but I let him. "I'm sorry," he added, his breath warm against my skin and causing me to shudder.
When he released me, I grabbed a tank top from the closet and slipped it over my head. As I pulled on a pair of jean shorts and buttoned them, he sat on my bed. "Okay, I'm listening," I told him, crossing my arms over my chest, subconsciously protecting myself because I already wanted to forgive him and I knew I shouldn't.
"I can't stand this. I can't stand you hating me. I miss you."
I sighed loudly and sat in my chair across from him. "I don't hate you, but you hurt me."
"I know I did," he admitted sadly. "And I know I shouldn't ask, but please forgive me. You were right, I was mad about my dad and I just...wanted to push you away. You didn't do anything wrong."
I shrugged. "Maybe I did. Maybe I used you."
"How?"
"When I was a freshman in college..." I paused to take a deep breath, this is so hard to say. "Some guy tried to rape me at a party. I haven't let anyone touch me since then. I haven't gone on any dates and I haven't let anyone get close to me. I just don't...trust men. But I trusted you."
"Rachel." He squeezed his eyes shut and he looked like he was in pain.
"I liked being affectionate with you, because I've missed it. I thought it was okay to ask you to sleep in my bed, because I've craved being close to someone again. But I didn't think about what it would do to you. I didn't consider how unfair that was to you."
"You didn't torture me, Rachel. And yeah, I wanted more, but that's not your problem, it's mine," he admitted sadly.
"I'm not telling you this to hurt you. I just wanna explain why I am this way. I tell guys I'm not dating because I'm focused on school and I am...but really it's because I'm scared."
He nodded. "Oh God, I didn't know. I shouldn't have pushed you so hard..."
"Nobody knows. You can't tell anyone. There's no way my dad would've let me go back to school if he knew."
"I won't tell...I promise," he swore. He pulled me to him and gave me the biggest hug. "I'm so sorry. I wish I could take it all back."
I could feel myself melting against him. I didn't wanna hurt like this anymore. He made me feel better and I started to heal. Is it wrong to want that? I don't even know anymore.
When he pulled away, I held on to him for dear life. This boy has become everything I need...and I'm just not ready to let go. Not yet.