HIP #2: Summer Of Love

Chapter 19

I hurried to my door and tried to open it.

Crap!

The world is really playing with me right now. First, I don't know why I'm crying over Peter's trust issues, which I am supposed to understand. And now, I can't open my door. I kept my hands on its knob and looked at it while tears of confusion dripped down. Then I felt him slowly walking closer to me. I felt his eyes, but I didn't look back.

He inserted his hands into his pockets and when he put them out; he clanged the keys of both our rooms. It caught my attention, causing me to look at him. He was still smiling, and I walked a few steps backward to let him do what he wants to. He unlocked the door, and I entered. I'm partially over it; partially over crying. Did I just cry because Peter said he's scared that I won't understand his problems? It's my fault that he said that, though. How stupid of me!

He entered behind me, and I sat down on my bed. He turned the lights on and then closed the door like someone's chasing us. But he didn't make it that obvious. Still, I could see it. He sat next to me with his hands on the blankets and my eyes on the wall. "I was terrified that you won't understand. Because I told it to someone else before and she didn't understand. So from that day, I only told my problems to Britney never to anyone else again."

Somehow, it made me realize that his trust issues were reasonable. And I was so stupid for crying over it. I can't stop thinking how annoying that was! I easily cried like a baby. I bet this could be something that I and him would laugh about in the future.

"Who was she?" I inquired.

"My grandma. Who I was really, really close to." I felt the pain in his brown eyes and I finally had the courage to look at them.

"Father's side?" He nodded.

"Yeah." He began looking at the ceiling.

"What happened that day?" Here we go again. Going too far.

"I told her about what my dad has been doing to me over and over but instead, she tolerated her son. Of course, I expected she would do that. Even my mom tolerates me sometimes when I do something wrong. But the problem was that she said that I should just let it pass by. I did." He answered.

I gulped. My grandparents both on mom and dad's side are dead already. I was younger when they died. I thought that Peter's lucky to have his grandma with him. Now I know he is not that lucky.

"Look, some people might not understand you. But some people will do." I smiled. He began looking at me back and smiling as well. Through all the pain he's feeling, he can smile like he's problem-free. He nodded. "I don't want to go too far again. If you don't want to give me an answer then that's okay. But, why don't you report to the police, or fight back, or why don't you run away against your father? You can simply get away and send him to prison for all he has done to you in several years. Why aren't you not making a single move?"

That was the question I had in my mind ever since he told me, I mean us... the whole group about what his father does to him. But I felt too shy to ask him that before. Now that I'm with him, I don't want to waste time. So, I'm trying to find out what I can do to help him.

"Because he's my father and he would always be. No matter how many times he hits me, no matter how many times he scolds, cusses, and makes me feel useless, he's my father. I love him and I know that deep inside him, he loves me too. Though he acts like he loves nobody. One day, the warmth he showed me when I was born will come back rushing like a tornado. I know he would get back to his old self. And he needs my help." I don't know if I should laugh. Because in his statement, it's like he's trying to put on a blindfold to cover his eyes though the truth is already clear. But at the same time, I can see how serious he is so I feel bad for him.

I sighed heavily, I guess I am lucky to have loving parents though we also fight sometimes. "What do you mean by loves nobody?" He fixed his shirt and wiped his sweaty hands on it. He didn't give me an answer to the question so I made it easier and repeated: "Is he hitting your mom too?"

He nodded. "Yeah, but mom stays neutral too. Because he loves dad so much so I'm doing the same thing. We both believe he still loves us." When dad eats my Sneakers or any food I own without my permission, I get mad at him and sulk most of the time. But Peter can forgive his dad even if he hits him every day. "You know what, I'm very proud of you." From being serious, he chuckled.

"What? Proud of me? What do you mean by that?" He continued chuckling.

"I mean... your life is tough but you are tougher. Even if there are tons of problems that seem impossible to solve for me, you can solve them. That's my definition of success. I'm proud to have a very successful friend like you." He took a deep breath in relief and leaned closer to me. He opened his arms and kept me in them while warmth wrapped us around. His head fell on my shoulder while mine fell on his chest. "Thank you. It's my first time to have someone proud of me."

He hugged me tighter and whispered again, "I never expected even just once in my life that someone could say that they're proud of me." I smiled gracefully; I know he can't see me. I gently rubbed his back and whispered back, "I will always be proud of you."