Scarred

Chapter 13

*TRIGGER WARNING*

Charlotte crossed her legs then uncrossed them again. She combed through her hair with her hand and propped her elbows on her knees. She swatted at a fly. In the distance she heard a group of boys skateboarding and a young family swinging together.

She straightened the instant she spotted Anthony. "Why are you wearing basketball shorts?"

When he sat, his thigh touched hers. He didn't move it. "I wanted to."

"Why did you want to meet?" She brushed a piece of hair over her cheek and hoped he wouldn't notice the bluish-green bruise.

He rubbed his thumb in circles on her hand. "I wanted to see you again."

"You saw me yesterday and the night before that."

"Are you complaining? You should be grateful that I decided to grace you with my presence yet again."

Charlotte bumped his shoulder and he bumped her back, which jostled her bruised ribs. She sucked in a fast, pained breath. Frick. Her mind spun as she thought of an excuse.

"What's wrong?"

She didn't know what to say. "N-Nothing. I'm fine."

He told her to look at him. She turned her face and prayed that she didn't appear guilty. Anthony reached a hand up to her cheek and rubbed his finger across to reveal the hidden injury in its fullness. She couldn't meet his eyes.

"What happened?"

"I ran into a door. It's nothing." Her eyes flicked to his face then back to their conjoined hands.

"Please," he begged, "tell me. You know you can trust me." When she insisted it was nothing, he said, "Tell me yours; I'll tell you mine."

"Your what?"

"Problems, demons, vices. Whatever you want to call it." He squeezed her hand. "What do you say?"

She considered it a moment before relenting. "Deal."

"You first."

She acted nonchalant, but her hands shook. She removed hers from his hand and crossed her arms over her chest. "Raelynn and her faithful followers were messing with me. There's not much to it."

"When did it happen?"

"Yesterday."

He absorbed this information. "After the park?"

"Yes, it's really not that big of a deal," she said. "All they did was taunt me and then Raelynn hit me a few times. That's it."

"Is that what the stuff on Chatter is about?"

"What stuff?"

He shook his head. "It's nothing. Don't go on." He put his arm around her and planted a kiss on her forehead. "I'm sure Raelynn's icing a black eye right now."

She laughed and relaxed into him. "So what's yours?"

His smile faded from his lips, and she was sad to see it go. He stared ahead as he explained, "My dad beats me. He blames me for my mom leaving when I was eight. Ever since, he's beaten me any time that I've forgotten to do something or if he's just mad or drunk."

She laid her head on his shoulder. She watched his fist clench and unclench repeatedly, yet his voice remained even. "I should be able to defend myself now that I'm older. I should be able to fight back instead of cowering. It's just that—" He shook his head and collected himself. "I know the signs. I can tell when he's about to hit me, but I don't do anything. It seems that every time he attacks me I think it's my job to not fight back, that I'm a horrible son if I do. But apparently I'm worthless either way."