Can't Let Go(7)

“Now come on,” Mr. Prescott steps in, “you know as well as I do, my boy will just end up embarrassing you.” Dex’s head jolts up, intent on hearing the compliments coming from his dad’s mouth.

“Whatever. Way to let a bunch of old men be your bodyguards,” Mike sneers, cocking his head to the side to egg on Dex.

Dex pushes his body up against his dad’s back, but it’s my dad that punches Mike this time. Mike’s body crashes to the ground, and he quickly gets up and stumbles out of the backyard. A few minutes later, the sound of his tires screeching and his engine roaring down the street can be heard from the backyard.

Knowing he’s gone, the two men and one bloody-faced Dex slowly twist their bodies in my direction, scowling at me, as though I’m the one who started this.

“I can’t believe we’re already at this age.” Mr. Prescott shakes his head, laughing. My dad joins him, and they walk back up the steps. With the scene dissipated, the remaining spectators file back into the house.

All of the young kids are fixated on us, but there’s no sign of Brenna. She probably went with Mike or found some other guy to get her off. Damn slut.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, and Dex steps up to me, still holding his hand to his chin. Pulling at my ponytail, my finger twists my hair around it.

“You don’t have to be sorry. Just use your damn head, Chrissy. He’s a scumbag.” He scoots past me, and a few seconds later the screen door slams against the wooden frame.

Wrapping my arms around my body, I sit on the brick steps, feeling more alone than I have in years. A few minutes go by as I listen to the others talk about the fight and complimenting Dex on his strength. Concentrating on the crickets chirping and the few lightening bugs flickering spontaneously in the yard, I try to remember that one day my life will be different. One day, I’ll escape and never return.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have talked to you like that.” Dex startles me, taking a seat on the stoop with an ice pack covering his knuckles.

Pulling my dress down over my legs, I bring my knees up to my chest, able to see the damage I caused. “I deserve it. I’m not sure what I was thinking bringing him here.”

“Hey.” He bends down to find my face. “You never deserve that, Chrissy,” he declares, and I turn my head and relax into a set of blue eyes that, if I’m honest, knows all of my secrets, even though I’ve never divulged them.

“You didn’t deserve it either,” I repeat, my sympathies directed toward him this time.

“Hey, these are like hero wounds. I’ll be the bad ass in my school until they heal.” He laughs, knocking shoulders with me. A small smile begins to form across my face, causing his to grow brighter and bigger. “Come on. Let’s go inside and get warm.” He stands up and holds his hand out to me. Taking it, he entwines our fingers, and those butterflies that filled my stomach with Mike earlier repeat their pattern, but this time it’s Dex’s touch wrestling them from slumber.

Dex walks up the steps, going inside and bypassing the basement stairs, where smoke floats up in a continuous stream and men’s bantering voices boom. We enter his room and he sits on the bed, leaning against the headboard with his long legs spread out in front of him. Although it’s been years since I’ve stepped foot in here, that smell of him takes me back to every other time we escaped and watched movies or played games up here. A ping in my chest spurs the sadness of how much I miss it … him. Scooting over, he eyes the spot next to him, where he wants me to join, but weariness sets in with expectations I can’t fulfill.

“Give me a break,” he teases, and I hesitantly match his position, leaving a few inches between us. Grabbing the remote from the nightstand, he turns on the flat-screen television. When the screen lights up the dark room, I can now say these televisions are as nice as I thought they were. “What do you want to watch?” he asks me, and I shrug, knotting my hands in my lap. “Will you relax? It’s me,” he says with a huff.

With that one statement, it’s confirmed that these tingles and flutters in my stomach are one-sided … mine. So I inch my body closer, and we settle into an easy conversation about movies. He flips through the channels, eventually landing on Harold and Kumar Go To White Castle. I’m thankful it’s not some war movie or worse, science fiction.

We laugh and eventually my eyes begin drooping. After my millionth yawn, Dex hands me a pillow and I scoot down on the bed, laying my head down while still watching the movie. Dex’s laughter shakes the mattress periodically. Hearing his amusement creates a smile on my face, putting me at ease that he’s right by my side.