The Good Girl

Chapter 2

Bender stood in the rain, hands in his pockets and hair hanging in his face. I opened the screen door quickly and ushered him inside. "Did you walk here?" I asked.

He stepped into the kitchen and pulled off his coat. I could tell that all of his clothes were soaked through, but he didn't offer an explanation as to why he was standing in my kitchen.

"Wait here." I told him and ran to the bathroom. I came back with two towels which I gave him. He made a half-hearted attempt to dry himself off. He seemed to be distracted. "What's going on?" I demanded when I figured he wouldn't explain himself.

He sighed and looked me in the eyes for the first time that night. I noticed a bruise starting to bloom over his left eye and I felt my stomach drop. Bender finally gave me a forced smile. "Thought you got rid of me?"

"What happened?" I asked quietly.

There was a pause as Bender rubbed the towel over his hair. He seemed to be dragging the silence out. I waited patiently.

Finally, he looked up at me. "I need a place to stay for a little bit." He said.

"Why?"

"I guess my old man's finally had it with my shit." He said. I could feel the hate in his voice. "He finally kicked me out."

"He kicked you out of the house?" I couldn't believe what I was hearing. I knew that his dad abused him, but I never thought that he would be heartless enough to put a 17 year old out on the street.

"Pointed a fucking gun at me and everything." Bender said, voice wavering beneath the sarcasm. "He probably would have shot me if I didn't get out."

My mouth dropped open in disbelief. "We should call the cops."

"No." He snapped. "We can't."

"John, you're in danger!" I pressed. "You were kicked out of your house at gunpoint. Looks like you got punched in the face, too."

"If we call the cops, they'll probably take me away!" He yelled. "I'll end up in a fucking foster home or some shit. I don't care enough to bother with it!"

"You should!" I countered. "Don't you want your dad to pay for what he did?"

"He will eventually. He'll probably die in a puddle of his own filth next week." Bender choked on the last sentence and a silence fell between us.

I folded my arms. "What about your mom?"

"She's too drunk to give a shit about me." Bender murmured. "She just watched tonight. 'Get out and live like a real man' she told me." He pitched up his voice in a mock impression of a drunk female.

I paused. "So what do you want to do?"

He shrugged. "I'm out of here when I turn 18." He said. He turned to look at me. "Rox, I was hoping you'd help me out."

"You need a place to stay until you can leave." I confirmed.

Bender nodded.

I thought about it. "I don't mind if you stay here, but I'm not sure what my parents would say."

We turned as a figure entered the room. My dad leaned against the doorframe, studying us. He must have heard us yelling. "Evening, John." He said.

John clenched his jaw and didn't respond. I sighed. "Dad, we need to talk."

About an hour later, Mom, Dad, Bender, and myself all sat around the kitchen table. We had just finished discussing Bender's situation. I had to coax the truth out of John, but we eventually got the whole story out.