Deal With It By: Audrey B. Holley

Chapter 14

I slurp the side of my melting ice cream, and say, "This is way better than a movie." Glancing to his shimmering irises, he seems to be lost in a maze of sad reminiscence. The tale of a little boy with wounded flesh bounces within his dejected eyes.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

He looks to the hands that lay in his lap, and then leafs his fingers through his locks of browned hair.

"It's just...I just..." He struggles for the words, but he manages to choke them out. "They'd ignore me, but then when I talked for attention, for some sort of hopeful affection, they'd turn around and beat on me until I didn't want to talk."

I urge him to further speak by sitting in silence, indicating that I am here to listen.

"When I was fifteen, I finally started hitting, fighting back, which scared me to death at times. I didn't want to end up like them, and I still don't. I hate inflicting pain on anybody. I don't want to be an abuser." His brows furrow, and his eyes bore into the table. I imagine that his knuckles are clenching into fists.

"I did everything I could to please them. I made straight A's, I didn't say a word to anyone at school about anything. I was this loner until I met Franky. Heck, my parents didn't let me start school with kids my age because they were so darn afraid the teachers would see the bruises. They waited until the marks were fading. Want to know the dumbest part?"

I don't say anything.

"If they didn't want anyone to see or find out, then why be physical in the first place?"

"People are just sick minded sometimes. But..." I hold out a hand across the table. Benjie lays a palm against my fingers. "It's all over. There's no need for anymore fighting. The past is behind us."

"Yeah, if you say so." He ogles at me, and at that I can feel my skin burning.

I clear my throat noisily, and say on a lighter note, "I'm just glad it's finally winter break." I manage to maintain a smile when I ask, "So what is our paper for English supposed to be about?"

He glances else where, and then back to my face, and says, "Something realistic. It has to have a moral behind it that will get your readers thinking."

I meet his eyes and question him, "What are you going to write about in yours?"

His thick shoulders heave in an upward motion as he shrugs in response.

"When's it due?"

He ponders the subject a moment, as if trying to recall what Mrs. Darthy had said. "A few days after winter break ends I believe."

Although the change in the discussion has drifted from past memories, Benjie seems to be hauled up in a mixture of loathing from a previous time and desolation from the lack of affection his parents had failed to give.

He sighs, and returns his gaze to me after staring at the table top. "I suppose we should go."

"Sure." I say. We walk out of the ice cream place, and trail along the white road of ice and snow to his motorcycle.

I want him to cheer up, for him to smile that crooked smile of splendor that ties my stomach in knots. I scoop a bare hand in the snow after intentionally falling a few strides behind. I then proceed to launch the mushy ice of light color at the middle of his back. But my aim is off. Just as he twirls to face me, he is planted in the face with the poorly developed slush of sticky flakes.

A wide smile splatters to his ample lips. "I'll get you for that!" He chuckles thunderously in the quietly  shadowed night of early December. 

"Ketch me if you can!" I then sprint off into the opposite direction. The fact that Benjie is a football player means I'm out numbered by one big, strong man. I lose footing and slide into the snow.  The temperature chills me to the core, but I just lay there, swooshing my arms and legs to make an angel.

I see his form gravitating to me in the distance. My lips won't stop quivering all the while my teeth chatter. But this night is beautiful, so I don't allow it to bother me. As he draws nearer, I roll over and push myself up onto my knees. I inhale many ragged breathes, and my body seems to topple into a pit of sensation-less feelings.

* * * * *

It is 9:30p.m., an hour before my curfew. We are sitting in Benjie's crammed bedroom on the floor in front of a heater.

"I enjoyed tonight." I say.

"Well, tonight isn't over yet."

I hesitate only a brief second, and then I ask, "So... would you consider this our first date?"

He regards my face with eyes of chocolate hinted shades, and then dips his head low. The kiss is tender, but not as profound as the moment we shared earlier. He nibbles at my lips in a provocative way. Something gobbles up the butterflies, and vomits up many beats into my heart.

And just like the previous hour, he departs the embrace of our smooching lips, and bashfully hides his face behind his lifting knee.

"Benjie..." I spit out his name in confidence. "I really like you, and so for that matter, I would like it if you accept me as your girlfriend." 

And then there is it.

An odd sound is heard on the other side of the thin walls. A voice perhaps? A creaking floor?

No, the commotion of a bed. 

Before I can ask, Benjie springs to his feet, and says in a rush, "It's time for you to go."

"Is somethi-"

"Now!" His sharp tone slices through my sentence. He places a palm to my back all the while he shoves my coat into my hands, and hurries us through the house so we can't hear any further.

When we are outside, he is peering down at me as he buckles my helmet like the gentleman that he is.

"My apologies."

"For what? Why are you taking me home so early?" I then frown in wonderment. "Benjie... if you don't like me, then just say so. I feel like you're just leading me on."

He drops his hands to his sides and gapes at my scowl.

"Woman you're crazy. I care about you a lot and would never hurt you."

I have the sudden urge to cry, and fall to my knees, and so I do just that. 

"I don't even know why I'm crying," I say after I gain some sort of control over myself. "Maybe it's the emptiness Henry left me with," I stare at his concerned face. "But it hurts like no other feeling."

He clears his throat. "I wish I could take it from you, ease it or something. All you can do at this point is accept what happened and believe and know with all your heart that he's off somewhere far greater at peace with himself."