It had been two long days since I’d seen Brock, but my lips still tingled from his kiss, and my heart fluttered every time I thought of him. No one in the shelter came near me, and I couldn’t have been happier. I’d rather be left alone than deal with any more bullying. I got enough of that from school, but the days dragged by like years.
We all sat down to lunch, just like every other day, and while people groaned and bitched about what they served, I was in heaven. It was nice to know a meal was coming. Everyone chatted as they ate, except me, who daydreamed about my first kiss as I bit into my meatloaf. The sound rumbled to a low whisper and stopped, and that’s when I saw him. Brock was back, no longer in the shelter’s version of solitary confinement, which consisted of his being kept in his room. He searched me out, and when his eyes met mine, he grinned wildly as he made his way to my side.
“Did you miss me?” he asked playfully as he sat next to me on the bench.
“Yes. You’re the only one who talks to me.”
“You can’t let them bother you, Bird.” He tucked my long dark hair behind my ear, and I rolled my eyes at him. It wasn’t that simple; nothing is that easy. If I could shut off my feelings, I would have done it years ago. “All we need is each other. Fuck these guys. They don’t get a say in our happiness.”
“Why do you keep calling me that?” I’d been in a foul mood ever since they’d taken him away.
“I can’t give away all my secrets, Lie.”
“Whatever.”
“Don’t be like that. I’m just messing with you. You’re my little jailbird.” His grin made my heart go insane.
“It isn’t jail, Brock.” I rolled my eyes as he laced my fingers in his under the table.
“Your home is your jail, Bird. I’m going to set you free.” He picked up the apple from my tray and took a bite.
“Really?” I turned to face him.
“Do you need me to prove to you again that I mean what I say?”
“I think you proved that point, although I’m not so sure you’re really a nice guy,” I quipped.
“I think you’ll like Boston.”
“You want to take me to Boston with you?”
“You think I’d leave without you?”
“How will we get there? It’s really far.”
Brock dropped the apple onto my tray and rubbed his hands together. “I’ll figure it out. It’s gonna take a lot of cash.”
“I can’t help with money. My mom is broke.”
His shoulder bumped against mine. “Like I said, I’ll figure it out. Don’t worry. But it’ll probably take some time.”
“It didn’t bother you that he used violence to show you he liked you?” Marie asked me.
“People used violence to show me they hated me. What’s the difference?”
“Are you sure you weren’t looking past something that you knew was wrong because it felt good to get attention from a boy?”
“He wasn’t just any boy. He was the boy.”
“Explain.”
“No one bullied Brock,” I said, “and no one came near me once they knew he was watching over me. It was just like those fairytales you hear as a kid.”
“Fairytales don’t usually include getting locked up in a youth shelter and witnessing random acts of violence.”
I shook my head. “You don’t get it. You’ve never been me.”
“Everyone is fighting a battle, Delilah. “
I pushed up from my seat in anger, a side effect of having spentso much time with Brock. “That’s bullshit, and you know it. Brock is the only person who ever cared about me. So he got in a fight. Big deal. Kids get in fights all the time. At least he wasn’t being the bully. He was standing up for me.”
“Please calm down, and let’s take a short breather. Then we can try to work through this so I can see your side of things. Sound good?”
“Yeah.” I nodded and made my way to the front door of the building. I grabbed a cigarette from my pack and lit it, pulling a long drag of smoke into my lungs. My eyes closed as I exhaled. I knew Marie was right, and it pissed me off. Brock had saved me. I was hanging on by a thread, and he had held onto me and made sure I didn’t fall.
I glanced over my shoulder before descending the stairs and heading down the street to my apartment.
Chapter Ten
Asshole
I was angry at everyone, and I was sick and tired of being a doormat. Nothing had changed since high school, not since Brock had been taken away from me. Bullies don’t grow out of it; they just get older, and I grew more tired.