Chapter Eight
Troy continues to stare at my wrists in deep thought, ignoring me completely. I pull my wrists from his grasp to grab his attention. He looks up at me as if he's seen a ghost.
"Troy? What did you mean when you said 'again'?"
"It's nothing," He says. "Just forget that I said anything."
"Troy..." I begin to say, but he's already ran past me into the bathroom.
What is Troy hiding from me? He knows something that he isn't letting on about, and that scares me. The look in his eyes was a combination of betrayal and anger.
"What's going on, Charlie?" Liam asks from behind me.
We both turn our heads toward the bathroom door because we can hear Troy hurling on the other side of it, followed by the sound of the sink water running.
Liam hugs me, and then shrugs before saying, "I guess dinner didn't sit well with him, huh?"
I force a sad smile, and walk alongside Liam back to the dining room. I can't help but to glance down at my wrists, and relive the past moment over and over. What could Troy have possibly meant when he said "Again?" Had he seen something like this happen before?
"There you two are!" Connie exclaims.
"Sorry mom, Char got sidetracked by Troy. He's throwing up his food right now."
We all watch as she gets up from the table, walking quickly down the hallway toward the bathroom to check on him. Liam, his dad, and I all sit quietly as we work on our meals. I think that David notices the unsettling silence in the room and clears his throat just to fill the void.
"Are you alright down there?"
He's talking to me, I notice. I find it odd how he phrased his question, seeing as I'm only two chairs away from him.
"Yes, why do you ask?"
He chuckles, like it's obvious.
"You've barely touched your food, and I like to think that Connie is a pretty damn good cook."
I feel embarrassed for not eating all of a sudden and know that I can't tell them the real reason why I feel sick to my stomach, so I say the first thing that comes to mind.
"Hearing Troy kind of made me lose my appetite, I didn't mean to offend you, Mr. Carlton."
"David, please," he corrects.
I smile, and force myself to finish the steak on my plate. I've barely finished when Liam's mother comes walking back into the dining room, seemingly distressed. She sits down and takes a sip of wine before going back to her cheery self.
"Sorry about Troy, he's always had a sensitive stomach."
"I'm sorry he doesn't feel well," I state. She gives me a nice smile, and I watch as her eyes move down from my face and finally stop at my wrists. I recognize the same expression from Troy's face only half an hour earlier. I try to focus on my asparagus, so that I don't raise any suspicion.
"Charlotte, dear, what happened to your wrists?" She wonders aloud.
I look up in shock, and suddenly all 3 pairs of eyes sitting at the table are focused on the pink bruises that stand out very much in contrast to my untanned skin. Before I can speak, Liam does.
"Mom, Char has anemia. Poor girl bruises like a peach from the slightest touch," he finishes convincingly and puts his arm around me.
How he came up with a response so believable, so quickly, beats me. I look at his mom and her face is a slight shade of pink from embarrassment.
"Dinner was lovely, Mrs. Carlton, thank you," I say.
"Please dear, you can call me Connie."
"Alright," I laugh amusedly. "Do you need some help clearing the table?"
"I'd love that," Connie says.
***
I'm giggling nonstop, playfully swatting Liam's backside as he carries me over his shoulder and up the stairs to show me his bedroom. We round the corner and Liam opens a brown door made of a strong wood that leads into his room. I close it shut, still dangling over his shoulder.
"Put me down!" I yell, laughs still falling from my mouth as I start to feel dizzy from being upside down.
"Never!" He shouts back, plopping me down onto his flannel comforter.
We both laugh, and I feel nervous because Liam is climbing over the top of me. The butterflies are going completely bonkers in my stomach when he leans down and kisses me, a sweet and gentle, loving kiss that I don't want to end. I feel safe when we kiss, like nothing can hurt me.
The kiss gets deeper as we both can feel ourselves getting turned on. He pulls away to bite my neck, and I put my hands in his hair. He grabs my hands and holds them down above my head, it takes me a second to register what I'm feeling. I wince in pain when Liam touches my wrists, and immediately snap out of the moment.
"Let go," I say sternly.
He gets off of me, a worried look in his eyes. I take turns gently rubbing each wrist before Liam takes them and kisses each one.
"So, Liam?" I hesitate. He doesn't answer, just looks up at me. "Troy..." I stop, not sure how to phrase what I want to say. "In the hallway, he, uh, he saw my wrists, and,"
"And what?" Liam sits up now, paying full attention.
"He saw them and he said 'Again?'" I try to imitate Troy as best as I can, and I can sense Liam tensing up. "Do you know what he meant by that?" I ask.
"Nope."
"Ok..." I trail off, unsure of what to say. We lie together in silence on his bed for what feels like at least a half an hour, neither of us speaking.
During this time, I think about tonight when his mother asked about my bruises. I know now that Liam won't be so rough with me, because he won't want his mom, or anybody else, asking any more questions. I feel confident about this, and as a result I turn and give Liam a big hug. He wraps his arms around me, and I breathe in his scent, happy to be where I am. Safe.
***
Two days later, I go with Liam to his house after school. We enter through the kitchen, and Troy is sitting at the kitchen table with his back turned.
"Hi Troy," I say.
He turns around and my attention is caught by the temporary cast around his left wrist. He sees me staring and hurries out of the kitchen, murmuring something about homework.
"Liam, what happened to Troy's arm?"
"I don't know, he must've hurt it skateboarding or something."
He's not facing me, but I know he's lying. I can feel it.
******
I know that I've probably lost all of my readers, seeing how it's been two years since I last updated this story (or any of my others). But if you did take the time to read this, thank you. Adult life is so busy, and I want to make time for writing again.
Xoxo,
S
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Flowers & Bruises
Dla nastolatków"Maybe it wasn't worth it. All the laughs and good times," A tear slides down my cheek as I watch the scene unfolding before me. "Maybe he wasn't worth it," someone whispers. ****** Charlotte Parker is in her senior year of high school. She has it...
