Lexi
The friends we have as children shape us. Some of them we keep forever, some of them we lose along the way... but all of them leave something behind... or in his case, take something as they leave.
Mason Jennings held my heart in his hands at...
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A part of me feels as though I was better off in the dark. Somehow there were less monsters there.
It's been a week since everything blew up in my face.
A week since I drove Lexi home.
And a week since we last spoke to each other.
*Last Week*
"How is it possible I feel less certain about where we stand now than I did the last time you drove me home, after we made our first deal at the river?" Lexi says, looking out the windshield and breaking the tense silence that had settled over us since we'd started driving.
She's right. I hate that she's right. But she is.
I have no idea where this leaves us now.
Kissing her today after everything I've learnt was probably not the smartest choice. Not because I regret it. It just feels like I stepped off a ledge, committing to whatever it was we started last night before I've even understood it.
It's confused an already mind-bendingly complicated situation.
"Mason?" Lexi prompts and I realise I'd completely ignored her question, too pre-occupied with my own inner turmoil.
"Sorry" I reply pathetically.
"There's nothing for you to apologise for," she replies.
"That's new." I reply with a small huffed laugh and I catch Lexi's grin out the corner of my eye, "I just don't know the right thing to say Lex" I confess.
She sighs, "That's what I was afraid of. Well, one of many things."
"What is?"
Lexi twisted in her seat to face me and I turned my head to look at her too. The purple shade of her cheekbone surrounding the small cut my paper stiches from last night sat across acted as a pick to the semi-stable lock I had on my anger. Seeing her hurt had affected me more than I'd thought it would, a fact that was playing heavy on my mind.
The real kicker though? I now have a crystal clear confession about the low life who did it and there's shit all I can do about it. I was right outside his house and couldn't get to him.
Why you ask? Because the girl in my passenger seat begged me not to and I'll apparently cave to her every wish just as easily now as I did as kids when she'd not so subtely complain she never got a Twix in her lunch, so I'd give her half of mine.
I try everyday to be better than my sperm-donor was. That's not to say I'm always great at controlling my anger - I just hit walls or mirrors instead of people. But seeing Lexi's face and knowing the similar, much bigger marks, that cover her body underneath the hoodie makes me seriously consider taking a leaf out of bio-dad's book.
