The Bright Side

Sixteen

After the awkward encounter with Owen at Levina's house we didn't speak again for the rest of the day. Only side glances were exchanged between us. Levina dropped both of us off at our houses a little after we all woke up. I got home at around ten in the morning.

Even though there was uncomfortable tension in air between Owen and I, I brushed it off, and had said goodbye to the two of them.

The texts of mother had just been things such as, "Where are you?", "Are you sleeping over?", "Hello? Answer your damn phone."

I had replied to all of her texts a few mintues after Owen had removed his face from my boobs.

Ever since I had told her that she deserves better then my dad she has been quieter than usual, zoned out in thought.

It's now the next day, Saturday night.

My legs hang out of my bedroom window. I scan the half dead grass on the ground.

Switching my gaze to my wrist, a frown tugs at my lips, saddened at the forming bruise.

My dad was home when I got home from Levina's house yesterday, of course. My mom was at work since her job had asked her to come in for extra help. Camila and Mateo were off somewhere, probably in their bedrooms playing video games.

When I had came face to face with my dad a wave of terror rained over me. If I could've seen myself from a third perspective, I'm sure all the color was drained from my face, becoming ghostly pale.

He didn't seem as drunk as usual. He had been standing straight up, and his words weren't slurring.

What happened was actually quite similar to what had happened when I came home the night of the fair. He expressed his annoyance with me by spewing hurtful words.

I don't know why he gets so upset when he finds out I hung out with friends. Maybe it's the controlling part of him, he wants to feel powerful.

After yelling at me he had roughly grabbed me by my arm and dragged me to my room. I didn't fight back, that would be pointless, and would possibly just create even more problems for myself.

His nails even left a few marks. I don't know why he had to hold onto my arm so tightly. Maybe he wanted to leave a bruise.

He told me I was grounded and that I had to stay in my room for the weekend. Except then he left to do god knows what. Hasn't been back since he told me that yesterday.

I've just decided to hang out in my room all day, catching up on some reading. I need to borrow that book from Owen next time I see him. Hopefully he'll forget about what happened Friday.

I also couldn't stop wondering about why he was up in the middle of the night, sweaty, out of breathe, and had red flushed face. I've read enough romance books to somewhat understand.

I can feel my face heating from the memory of that hard thing against my thigh.

That was his thing...?

Well why was it that hard? I can't believe it touched me.

I shudder at the thought. I won't judge him though, he's human, human's get horny.