Bruises (BWWM)

3

3

Tamra

It had been a week since my last encounter with Ben and I still hadn't told anything to Faye. I didn't particularly feel the need to talk to her; even listening to Amber's pointless chat seemed more interesting at the moment.

Being the oldest of us all, she was always the one driving us back home after school whenever Faye's brother, Alex, couldn't.

She usually wasn't the most attentive driver and when I was riding in the front like I was today, I'd cringe at each and every harsh stop she took, making us all jerk back.

Amber slowly immobilized her car in front of Kassi's castle-like house and the Armenian beauty got off of the vehicule, her short navy skirt swaying high above her tall and slim legs. She waved goodbye, flipping her long black hair over her shoulder and blowing us a few kisses before she swaggered towards the frontdoor of her home.

Kassi's father was the head of an important european company and made as much money as all of my family's, uncles and aunties included, incomes reunited. That girl was mad loaded.

She'd always get us expensive gifts on our birthdays, and was constantly sporting the latest collection of Coach or Michael Kors bags and wearing Prada or Gucci outfits that she never wore more than twice, because, in her words, it'd ruin the magic of it.

From the outside, her house gave me heart palpitations at how much it was huge. I had always wondered what the inside looked like. Kassi never let us enter her home, despite our endless complaints.

She said we'd end up trashing it and that her parents wouldn't allow it. But I couldn't help but think of all the crazy parties that could've taken place inside this manoir-like house.

As the door of her home swallowed her and she disappeared from our sight, I swirmed back into my original position inside of my seat.

Amber stepped onto the accelarator pedal and without stopping once, directly drove to my place. I thanked her for the ride home and climbed off the automobile, heading inside.

"Maya? Dad?" I let out as I closed the door behind me.

I took of my shoes and my father's voice greeted me with :

"I recalled telling you to not wear your skirt this short at least fifteen times this week."

"I love you too," I exclaimed, offering him a wide grin and disappearing upstairs. Dad simply rolled his eyes, a smile unvoluntarly drawing itself onto his lips. No matter how hard he tried, he never was strict enough. Mom used to be the bad cop and he, the good one -having to fill in both roles was overwhelming.

"Sup sis'," I shouted at Maya, opening the door of her room and promptly closing it after seeing the annoyed look on her face. My fourteen year-old sister was passing through the stage where she absolutely cared about nothing and everything.

One second she loves that band and the next, she hates them and think she's too mature to like them.

Go figure.

People said we looked nothing alike and I agreed with that. Whereas she was short and athletic, I had a tall awkward stature and was a complete bookworm with a distaste for any sports except for occasionnal running.

I'd say we didn't get along at all, but there were those rare moments where we'd laugh uncontrollably for no reason or spontaneously cry on each other's shoulders without a warning. Our bond was pretty dysfunctional.

I peeled off my uniform and pulled on a sweatshirt over my head. I momentarily looked at the ceiling above my head and smiled, remembering the stories my dad used to tell Maya and I about how our grandfather and grandmother once lived in the streets together.

We were truly blessed.

I laid onto my bed, eyes shut, wondering if one day I would end up like my grandparents, with nothing but each other and trust to survive. And then, unconsciously, I thought about Ben. About the bruise on his arm. And the bruise on his lip. My mind wandered around the different possible stories behind each scar and I finally opened my eyes realizing how foolish I was for thinking about someone I hated.

But Ben was a mystery and I usually loved mysteries.

Here was the thing, I couldn't simply continue to function normally without knowing what was wrong with him and the injuries he collected. I craved for his answer to the 'What's truly bothering you?' question. I just needed to know.

Just like I needed to know why my mom wasn't talking to anyone anymore.

It was all intricately connected, and somehow, I couldn't figure out why. Maybe because to me, Ben was the physical representation of my mother's secret burden?

I read a lot of action-packed mystery books, and I was always able to discover the culprit before the resolution.

But this time I couldn't and it frustrated me.

A lot.

Twice as much as I was angered with Faye for betraying my trust. As much as I wanted to convince myself that it was her business and she had the right to keep stuff hidden from me, I couldn't bring myself to tell her what I knew.

And then I wondered, had Ben seen Faye's naked pictures?

I know it was silly of me, but at that very moment it felt as if his involvment mattered.

I couldn't help but feel a little bit jealous and threatened. Faye was gorgeous. Slim hourglass shaped flat stomach, naturally thin legs, long straight hair and electric blue eyes.

I didn't have any of that and I feared Ben wouldn't like me the way he could easily like a girl like Faye, Amber or Kassi.

Not that being aesthetically pleasing to Ben's eyes was part of any of my motives, it'd feel great to be confident about myself instead of always overthinking my appearance.

I closed my eyes and realized that if Ben didn't like my unruly curly hair and full lips, or even if he did, it wouldn't change the way I felt for him. I hated him. But at least I loved myself.

Wasn't it was truly mattered?

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Thank you for reading! If you're seeing this, make sure to VOTE for this story and comment if you feel like it, it really encourages me to continue writing. Hope you enjoyed! ~contaminant