Abused {ACM}

Chapter 22

My heart was pounding so hard that it was making my neck pulse, and I had to take deep gasps of air. Leaning forward on the bed like that, on the side of my legs, my face pushed into the damp mattress, and clutching Sir Squiggles in my arms, I fell asleep.

Knowing that tomorrow, I would get up and clean up my room and shower and get dressed and pretend everything was perfectly fine.

Everything was perfectly fine.

I would be strong, like she was for five years.

Because that's what Abby and I were both so good at.

We were so good at pretending, at faking - everything was so freaking fine, with our plastered smiles and forced laughs and crinkled eyes.

Surely if we could pretend to be happy around our friends with each other, we could pretend without each other.

Our game of pretend.

Abby's POV

My ears were ringing, my eyes closed and pressed into my kneecaps, the swirling colors behind my eyelids distracting me from the knot inside my heart. I cleared my throat of all the mucus that came with crying and took a long, deep, shaky breath.

I picked my head up and smacked myself on the face. "Come on, Abby. Stop being such a baby. You're going to see Austin again - look on the bright side. Nobody is ever going to hurt you again."

Suddenly, the sound of a door being pushed open echoed down the hall. I let out a little squeal and jumped to my feet, but swaying and collapsing onto the wall. The room swirled around me, and if there was anything in my stomach I would have thrown up. I couldn't remember the last time I had eaten. I heard the footsteps pause right at the bend that would join into the hallway I was standing in. My heart attacked the back of my throat and in a cartoon I would've choked on it.

Flashbacks of my father's loud, heavy work boots raced around in my mind, the smashing of beer bottles and our glass coffee table, the shards being worked into my skin. I shivered, clenching my fists, the long, thin scar on my back practically burning.

"Who's there?" I tried to say it bravely, but my voice shook audibly. Stupid, Abby, stupid! Nobody's going to hurt you here. You're safe here. He couldn't have found you this quickly.

The first thing I saw was his curly platinum blonde hair. He stuck his head around the corner, a mixture of confusion and embarrassment on his face. His ice blue eyes flickered back and forth, and he bit his lip. I tensed up even more - he was a boy. A male.

The only males I trusted were Austin, Alex, Robert, Zach, Jake and Tyler. I slowly took a step back and gulped. Even more confusion flickered into his eyes and he stepped fully into view.

He was tall. Taller than Austin tall.

And Austin was pretty tall.

I cleared my throat and swiped at my sticky cheeks, taking a hopefully inconspicuous step backwards.

The boy cocked an eyebrow.

I guess it wasn't so inconspicuous after all. The way he held himself was so strange - so vulnerable yet so strong at the same time. He radiated strength but weakness, beauty but awkwardness. He tan skin, and an oddly shaped nose that made his face imperfect.

I liked it.

"Uhm..." He muttered, looking down and shuffling his feet. He looked up again. "Who are you?"

I stayed silent. I wasn't in this house to make friends. I was here to get away from my father, who was out there looking for me, like a vulture in the desert looking for its prey. Territorial and disgusting. Ice wrapped itself around my heart and stayed there, stubborn.