Bunking With Boys

Chapter 33: To Face Your Fears

Avery's POV

"I worry about you sometimes." Dawson started, looking away almost guiltily. Maybe he felt bad. I guess I sorta did. I didn't like the fact that he wasted his time worrying over something like my issues when I knew he had his own that we had yet to talk about.

"What do you mean?" I questioned him tilting my head a bit and trying to smile to show I wasn't bothered by it. I wasn't bothered in the way he thought I'd be at least.

He shook his head a bit and didn't answer. I think he was looking for the right words.

"I mean...I guess you don't open up...ever really and I know that's not good. Had to hurt you, even if you don't know it."

"And I mean...I don't know much about that whole area of your life yet, but I know it's not good. And I know you've been through a lot. And I guess I'm kinda angry at myself that I can't help."

"Please don't," I asked. He looked at me, worried for the slighted second. "No I mean well, um, please don't worry about me. I'm fine. Really."

He nodded and it was silent again. But it felt different. For some reason, I felt different.

For so long I had this fear of opening up and being vulnerable because that's the easiest way to get hurt. But it's like in this moment, I didn't. Like in this moment all my baggage and shitty trauma didn't exist. I didn't know why, but suddenly it didn't feel so scary to be open with him.

I knew that'd probably change in the morning, hell, even a couple of hours, so I made a big decision.

"Don't be weirded out if I make absolutely no facial expression while telling you any of this."

Dawson's head quickly turned to look at me. And I couldn't necessarily read the emotion on his face. But I think it was easy enough to understand that he was shocked and probably scared. Definitely scared.

"I guess it'd be easier to start at the very start right?" I didn't bother waiting for a reaction from him. "Well, mom died. I never talked to dad about it. Not even once. So as a kid I just learned to assume and later just figured out the obvious facts. Sometimes when I was younger I'd imagine all the different possibilities. Like what if she wasn't actually dead. Cause being four and not having a very good grasp on the concept of death yet, I thought about what it'd be like if that wasn't reality...but it was." I laugh a bit, almost bitterly. Sadly, yet accepting in a way.

Dawson looked to me, like he wanted to be sympathetic but was trying his best not to pity me. Which I appreciated. I think he knew if he showed that sorrow and pity a part of me would close up and we'd both lose this opportunity.

"And dad. Fucking dad..."I mutter blowing a piece of hair away from my face. "He was never around. Ever. The people who raised me were nannies basically. And when I was old enough, I was on my own. I don't really think any 10 year old can take care of themselves properly though..." I tell him with a roll of my eyes and snarkiness to my tone.

He didn't stop looking at me, hoping I would continue to add on and elaborate. And surprisingly enough, I did.

"It was lonely for a while. I never did have a ton of close friends or anything. Then there's the whole being alone in an empty house for 4 years. So, I decided to have my dad enroll me here. In a boarding school. Figured it was homey enough and would be less lonely. But damn was I wrong."

Dawson still didn't say anything. Letting me vent. Just listening.

"Freshmen year came along. I made my first friend. If you could even call her that. It was Lilliana. She introduced me to her friend group, I don't think they liked me very much though. Except for one guy. Who happened to be Ronnie."