Count On Me(18)

This time he unlocks the car from my side and makes sure I’m completely in and comfortable before shutting the door behind me. I can’t help thinking its sweet, but the minute I think it, my stomach turns over and I feel sick. I don’t want to think any of this is sweet. He’s still the same guy he was earlier, even if he is taking pity on the special kid.

I’m so lost in my thoughts I don’t even realize he’s in the car with me until he slams his door shut and bangs his hands on the steering wheel.

I startle and realizing his mistake, he sighs.

“I’m sorry. I don’t think.” He leans over and I catch a glimpse of his bare skin as the shirt he’s wearing rides up. Finding whatever it is he’s looking for, he turns back around. “This time, I want to be prepared.”

Looking at his hands as they’re held out in front of me, I see what he’s talking about. There’s a notebook, complete with what looks like a gel pen attached and though I’m pretty sure he doesn’t know this, it’s my favorite color.

The thought that went into this small gesture gets to me. My hands are shaking under the force of it, as I reach out and accept the olive branch he’s giving me. My fingers graze over his and I jump back from the sharp tingle that climbs up through my hand as I do it.

What is going on with me?

Pushing the reaction out of my head, I slide the pen off, open the book and start writing. When I’m finished I slide it across, careful to keep all contact to a minimum. I don’t know what caused that sensation a minute ago, but it feels weird, so I don’t want to repeat it.

Why did you want to drive me home?

He runs his hand over his hair and again he sighs. “I needed to talk to you—you know, about earlier?”

The way he phrases it as a question confuses me. There were a couple of things that happened earlier. He didn’t show up to get me after class and he was bullying my friend. Which one of these could he possibly mean?

The stuff with Eric or earlier?

“Earlier?” he questions, but before I can write out a response, his eyes shine with recognition. “Oh, yeah I need to explain about that too. I mean, if you’ll let me.”

I don’t want to let him. I want to just slide my hand over the door handle, push it open and get the hell out of here, but I can’t do that. In accepting his ride home, I’ve given up the only other way I can get home, which means I’m stuck. Unless I want to walk and it’s gonna take me at least an hour to do that.

You don’t need to explain anything to me. I write out, this time lifting the notebook instead of sliding it to him. The back and forth motion is actually starting to bug me.

“Yeah, see that’s what I thought too, except I do.”

What does that mean?

He does the thing with his hands again and I’m actually surprised with how hard this seems to be for him. He’s so confident and self assured at school every day, but here in the car, it’s like he’s a completely different person.

He’s the boy that he used to be.

“I’m an asshole, Isabelle. I don’t even know if asshole’s the right word for me, but it’s all I know. I hurt people for fun and most of the time I enjoy it. I haven’t been able to enjoy anything since I saw what happened to you yesterday. I know what I did today, the things I said, the way I acted…”

He cuts off and my heart drops in my chest. He didn’t finish what he wanted to say and despite how upset I am, not only with him, but me too, I really want him to finish. I’m conflicted because I want nothing to do with him, but at the same time, being here with him now is comfortable and I don’t want it to end.

None of this makes any sense to me.

You are an asshole. What you did to Eric today was wrong. You say you don’t like what happened to me so why do it to someone that’s just like me?

“See that’s just it. Fuck! I can’t stand you thinking I’m an asshole. When I’m around you, I don’t want to be the jerk. I want to be different.”

So be different.

Things with me are pretty cut and dry. I don’t understand when people state things like he just did. If he wants to be different then I don’t see why he doesn’t just do it. It’s not like anyone can do it for him.

“It’s not that easy. I wish it were, but this is all I’ve ever known.”

I know all about his mom and dad leaving. I also know he got stuck with a brother that wasn’t even mature enough to take care of himself, let alone a younger brother. I know how bad things are for Kayden, it’s not hard to see when people show up at the house at all hours and Dean spends most of his time slurring his words and stumbling on his feet. Even though I told him to be different, I’m starting to see now that it really isn’t black and white.