Count On Me(20)

I know I was an asshole to her and even to her friend, but I haven’t been able to think of much else since. It’s bad enough that I have to admit to myself that I might like this girl, but did I really have to grovel at her feet?

The short answer is, yeah, I do.

I’m haunted by the look I saw in her eyes in the hall today. I hate that she thinks of me that way. I get the feeling that because she can’t talk; she sees more than the rest of us do, so she’s seeing something in me that no one else can. Something that even I can’t see in myself and there’s the urge to be around her so that maybe she can show it to me.

I don’t want to go home. I know what I’m going to find there when I do. Dean’s going to be passed out on his ass again, angry because, as he says, I made him lose yet another job and we’re probably gonna lose the house because of it. It’s the same damn conversation every single day, especially when he’s not working and I’m sick of it.

I can’t stay here though. I don’t want her mom to come home and see me. I’m not sure how much she tells her, especially the last couple of days, but if she’s said anything about me or what happened to her then I know being caught isn’t going to go well. I just don’t know where else I’m supposed to go.

Times like this I wish my mom was still around. I’d be able to go home if she was here and I might be able to tell her everything that’s going on. I could have her help me make sense of it. She was pretty flighty and at times I wondered what the hell she was even doing with kids, but there were good times when she was with us. She did try. It’s those times now that I want so badly because I hate feeling this alone.

You don’t feel alone when you’re with her.

The nagging voice in my head, pointing out the obvious has been with me now for the last two days. It’s right though. I don’t feel alone when I’m around Isabelle. In fact I don’t feel much of anything at all, at least the negative stuff. It’s quiet, but it’s comfortable. Even with her issues and the god awful way she smelled in my car yesterday, she still made me feel things that I haven’t felt in forever.

She makes me want to be better.

I know what I have to do now. It’s the only thing I can do. I have to take her advice because she’s right. If she wants actions instead of just my words then I’ll give it to her.

I just hope it works.



Belle



I’m not sure what I expected when I got off the bus this morning, but it wasn’t this.

Standing at the curb, rolling back and forth on his feet is Kayden and instead of looking uncomfortable or like he would rather be anywhere else, he looks happy. The minute I step down off the bus and my feet hit the ground; he raises his gaze in my direction and smiles.

His smile seems to light up his entire face. I’ve seen him angry and stressed, but never quite like this. His cheekbones raised, his eye brows lifted and those eyes, the green that before had been deflated, are sparkling under the light of the sun.

When we were kids he used to have long shaggy hair and you were lucky if you ever saw his eyes, let alone this way. I hate admitting it, but I’m glad that he decided in our freshman year to cut it, because it gave me a full view of everything now. What had once been long and shaggy is now almost military cut, with only the barest bit of hair on top and completely shaven further down.

I don’t normally give much thought to how people look, mainly because with everything I have to deal with, judging on appearance seems wrong, but I can’t help myself this time because he looks beautiful.

“Good morning Belle.”

No one calls me Belle. Well, other than my mom and sometimes Tristan. Adults seem to think that shortening my name makes it slang, so they go out of their way to make sure my entire name is said. I’ve gotten so used to hearing it that when he calls me Belle it takes me a minute to process it. I’m not sure how I feel about it, but with the way he says it so easily, I’ll figure out how I really feel about it later.

I blink a few times and raise my hand in what I can only describe as my version of a wave. It’s such a pathetic attempt even I regret it, but when the smile doesn’t leave his face, I accept it and continue walking.

I enjoy the few minutes of silence as my moving forward takes him off guard, but in no time at all I see the shadow of his body beside mine and my heart almost beats out of my chest.

This is not good. I can’t have this kind of reaction right now. I’ve been trying to live down what happened two days ago and now here he is, causing it all to come back around. I don’t want to have an accident, but I don’t have the first clue how to let him know that’s exactly what’s bound to happen if he keeps walking with me like this.