Winning Braden

07. Lost

Veronica Thorn

Everyone has their guilty pleasure, a thing you've told yourself not to do but can't seem to stop. For me that was seeing Braden Carter. The more I tried putting barriers between us, the less I succeeded.

Friends.

He wanted to be friends and I'd agreed. Stupid, stupid stupid. Now I was tormenting myself when my eyes occasionally fell on his mouth. I was hyper aware of everything he did.

How could I think agreeing to study with him would make me get anything done?. His muscular arm brushed against mine, I felt sparks ran down my spine. His scent was mouthwatering, I wanted to inhale and almost just did that before my senses returned.

"Shouldn't you be in practice?" I needed to make him stop looking at me with that boyish grin he threw me whenever our eyes met.

God, I was ruined.

He grasped his chest as if I knocked him over, "Ouch, Want me gone so bad? You know practice don't start until four"

"I didn't know that."

He flickered my pen making it fall from between my fingers, "Sure you didn't"

I glared at him, "You're impossible."

He winked and stupid butterflies swam in my belly, focus. Focus.

That was only the beginning of my torment with being Braden Carter's friend, our study sessions turned into an every week thing, I helped him with math although I was sure he played with me, I knew he had top grades. He didn't tell me that though, only listened to my explanation as if he was hearing algebra for the first time.

Not that we got much done, he would distract me, asking questions about me I've never thought anyone would want to know, to my shock we had more things in common then not.

I found out he didn't have siblings, like me. Not that I told him anything about my personal life. And he had no problem talking about himself, I loved hearing what he liked, hated. His biggest passion was football, not that It wasn't obvious considering he played it.

My mind was picturing his well built body in the field and my cheeks heated.

Damn it.

Braden Carter was a heartthrob, it was getting more difficult to obtain some kind of distance.

At school I did my best to avoid him but whenever he saw me his face would lit up in a way that brought an ache so deep that it burned into my bones.

He looked at me as if I was important.

I didn't like the prying eyes but a thing I learned about Braden was that he could care less about them, wherever we were he made me feel wanted, always including me when I always declined, telling myself to put a pedestal to our quickly changing friendship.

There were rules I didn't cross, such as not letting him drive me home. I didn't like the fact that he knew where I lived, once mom got wind of him I was sure she would meddle in.

And I wanted something for myself.

It was sick that the reason I could wake up everyday was because of seeing him. Knowing that the day was better with him in it.

And that scared me more than anything. It freaked me out.

One evening I came home and saw mother slumped against the chair, her eyes closed making me perplexed, I looked for bottles I was sure to see but saw none.

"What are you doing?"

"Veronica.. Your back, ah, why don't you join me?."

Was that a trick question? I rather not find out, after all mom and I now coexisted with me coming home and she being gone, coming back when I was already asleep. So I was surprised to see her home this early.

"Maybe another day." I mumbled ready to head up the stairs but her words stopped me, "I have something to tell you..."

I halted mid step looking at her over my shoulder.

She patted the seat beside her, "It's quite a long story."

I swallowed hard but made my way towards her. All the while my mind was filled with questions.

Sitting on the space beside her i could see the hesitation in her eyes, seeming to choose her words carefully before she finally spoke,

"Remember when I told you that your father left me?. Left us?"

How could I forget? Mothers spiteful words always hit a mark for me and as young I cried whenever she spoke about my father, I didn't know much other than that he left when I was very young.

At my nod she dragged in a staggering breath, "I lied."

Now she looked at me, I was mute to do anything but to process it, she lied?.

"What do you mean?"

"Your father never knew about you...."

what

That couldn't be true. All those years I'd seen my mom drink herself to oblivion. she'd cursed my father, saying he couldn't take it when she got pregnant with me.

In other words wouldn't have left if she never had me.

I barely remember the story since I'd done my best to forget about it.

She stared at me cautiously, "I never told you.. because I thought—"

"No," I grated out once I found my voice, she couldn't just say this after fucking seventeen years of my life when I believed my father deserted us.

"Veronica please." Her cries rang in my ear as I leaped out of the sofa and headed outdoors, needing— needing fresh fucking air. Like being pulled out of deep water my lungs grasped for air.

I couldn't stop the spin in my head,

Memories hit me full force, feeling like the lost forlorn child I once were, thinking nothing could get worse then what i already lived with back then.

I was wrong. Living with my mother who had skeletons in her closet now topped that list

Because now I had to relieve the worst part of my life.

face my past that I'd done my best to bury and hammer with locks, damn i needed to get out of here. I didn't care where, just anywhere.