An Echo in the Wind

Chapter 13

I open my eyes and look at Shade, his tall frame sitting down next to me. He leans his arms on his knees in a relaxed manner. 

"No, I'm not mad at you. Why?" I ask tiredly in a quiet voice. 

"It seems like you are. I'm sorry about last night. If that's what it is. You regret kissing me, right? I'm sorry if I made you feel like you had to do anything. I should've kept my fat mouth shu-" He rambles. 

I chuckle, "Shade," I stop him. "It's not that. I promise. I'm sorry I'm being such a bitch to you. Really, I am. I'm just tired."

He looks at me skeptically with his intense emerald eyes like he doesn't believe me, "It seems like there's more to it than that."

"Why do you care?" I ask, a little too harshly. "Because we kissed? I only did that so you'd get over whatever it was you were feeling."

He winces with his eyes, and looks a little hurt at my words so much so that I feel guilty, wishing I could take them back. "No," he snaps defensively. Then he softens his words, "Because we're friends now, remember? Friends care about each other. And talk to each other. Look, I know we don't know each other that well, but I'm still worried about you. Talk to me."

His eyes search my face, looking for anything. 

"It's just," I start, "I didn't sleep well last night..."

He urges me to continues and I sigh, "I had a nightmare. And then I couldn't fall back asleep. And it just...brought up some stuff and I can't stop thinking about it."

I put my head in my hands, my headache getting increasingly painful. I rub my temples but it doesn't do much to help. He puts a strong hand on my shoulder, squeezing lightly, "What was it about? You don't have to tell me, but if you want to...you can."

He says it like he means it. I put my head on its side so I'm looking at him. I take a deep breath, "I...my...my dad died two years ago."

His face falls and a familiar sadness washes over it, "I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, everyone is," I say with a light laugh. I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to get the pictures out of my head. "He um...killed himself. I was the one who found the body. And I...uh...can't get it out of my head. I thought the nightmares would stop...when we moved out of that house, but um, I guess not."

My voice is trembling and my body is shaky. A few tears leave my eyes and I quickly brush them away. 

"It's okay to cry." He says gently, "That's messed up. Super messed up. You shouldn't have had to see that...how? How did it happen? If you don't mind me asking."

I tell him everything, it feels good to get it off my chest. Well, I leave out the part about my brother. I don't need one of my first real friends knowing I'm related to an actual psychopath. 

I tell him about my mother's drinking and how it left me to practically raise Austin on my own. I don't tell him about what my mom does to us when she gets really drunk, only that it's made her an absentee mother. I tell him the bare minimum, just the tip of the iceberg, but it still feels good to let it off my chest.

I didn't have to tell him anything about my mom at all, but it felt good to open up to someone. Once I start talking, everything comes rushing out like a waterfall. 

I'm full out crying by the time I'm finished. He pulls me into his chest, wrapping his strong arms around me, holding me tight. 

It's a welcome feeling to be the one getting hugged rather than the one giving a hug. 

When I calm down a little, I say, "You give good hugs."

"The best hugs come from the people that know what it's like to need one." He says with a hint of sadness.