The Dollhouse

Part 3

Chapter 3

"Thanks for driving me home," I say to Thorn.

I'm shocked the guy went out of his way to drive me all the way home. I pull up to the side of my house and honestly I'm a little embarrassed, but the truth is Thorn doesn't even seem to care. He's not looking at my neighborhood. He's looking at me.

"Wait...hold up," he states, "I wanted to talk to you about what I told you earlier."

The whole car ride was awkward. Thorn had offered to drive me home. I wanted to say no, but I figured it'd be even more awkward seeing the guy around if I said no. For some reason, I just feel weird about the whole situation.

Thorn Michaelson was Fat Matt.

How the fuck was that possible? I watch him staring at me. He has a way of doing it that just makes you feel...weird.

" It's dark as hell," I state, "Maybe I'll see you later."

He stops me. Leaning over and grabbing the door shut before I can open it. He's close to me. Real close. He smells so fucking good. I look back over at Thorn. He has this smirk on his face. It's different than any smirk I've seen before. It's sexy, but still so fucking mysterious.

"Scared of the dark?" he asks.

"Scared of a dead boy in the dark."

He flicks the light on at that moment and that's when I see his face. He still is over my seat a little bit. Thorn leans into me and for a moment I swear he's going to kiss me, but he doesn't. He just grabs me and touches me. I can smell him. It's the strangest way thing. A few seconds pass and he is just touching me. His hands are so firm and yet so soft.

Finally, he reveals what is up with the touching, "Do I feel like a dead boy to you?"

I'm so confused by it. I'm so confused by all of it.

"You faked your death?"

He looks over at me, "Is that so bad?"

I look over at this guy. The first thing I think is crazy. Is he fucking crazy? Who does what he's talking about doing. People mourned Fat Matt. Well, maybe not a lot of people, but I did. I mourned him.

"You look so different."

"I'm assuming that's a compliment," he tells me.

"How?"

"How what?"

"How did you become...this?"

It wasn't just his look that changed. This man had a swagger through the roof. He was someone and we all knew it. We all knew what he was. The truth was that he was perfect in more ways than one.

"I can show you," he states, smiling at that moment, "If you want me to, I can help you."

"Who says I need help?"

He laughs, "Come on. Look at you. You're a mess."

"Wow."

All I want to do is leave at that moment. I just want to run away. I just want to get out of there. I've never been so fuckin' embarrassed. Hearing someone say it to me means so much. It sucks because I know it's true. People like to say high school won't matter. People like to say you'll get over it one day. The truth is that wasn't the case. The memories I had would be with me for the rest of my life.

They would shape the person who I would become later in life.

And right now I just feel like shit.