Lip gloss

Young blood

"So tell me about yourself." I say, my elbow propped on my knees, which are pulled up to my chest as I look at his focused face that stares out at the road.
"What do you want to know?" He asks, sounding casual, but I know he has a story, everyone does, and I can't seem to be patient long enough to hear his own.
"Anything your willing to tell me." I reply, being completely honest and his jaw clenches then un-clenches, something I've noticed him do a lot.
"My parents divorced when I was 13, my brothers and I decided to live with my father, my sister Emma lived with my mom. Emma would come by frequently, to check on Jake, my youngest brother, he was eight at the time." We stop at a red light and he continues, not looking at me at all. "Emma stopped coming so frequently, I got a phone call one day and I ran all the way to my mothers house.
"I got there too late." He whispered, tears in his eyes and laced in his voice. "She called, screaming for my help.. Her boyfriend, Owen Higgins, got her pregnant, I didn't know until she called me that night." The car started to move again and he turned on the windshield wipers as it started to drizzle.
"She called me because he came to moms house drunk. Mom wasn't home, she was at work. He came in the house breaking things, screaming at her, blaming her for being pregnant." He wiped a tear away. "She told me he started beating her, just deliberately hitting her, scratching all over her." His voice cracked and he had to stop for a moment.
"She was able to kick him the balls and lock herself in the bathroom." He continues, "she called me, screaming for me to call 911, she wouldn't say why.. I didn't call the cops.. I never did, I just ran to her." He recalls, looking ashamed. "By the time I got there he had just busted the door open and he had her by the hair." His eyes screw shut at the terrible memory.
"She had blood everywhere, shit, I think she was bleeding from her eyes." He recalls and I cringe. "He threw her down the stairs, making sure he would kill the baby." He continues, tears soaking his cheeks. "When I saw her clutching her stomach.. Screaming and blood running down her thighs, I knew what was going on... I went ballistic."
"I ripped a rail from the stairs off and beat him with it until he couldn't stand. Then I broke his legs, and I threw him down the stairs." He says, growing angrier, gripping the steering wheel like he might rip it off.
"When I saw his blood mixed with Emma's I cried, I cried and screamed at God for letting it happen. I didn't call the cops." He reminds me, "next thing I know, someone knocked on the door. It was some cop, and he saw all the blood on me and arrested me on the spot." We park but he continues.
"Emma was transported to a hospital, they took out her now dead baby, and prayed that her heart wouldn't stop beating before morning." He says and tears pick at my own eyes. "Those cops wouldn't believe me, they had to get a detective interrogator in to inspect my statement." He admits, "that guy barley believed me." he runs a hand through his hair, his eyes closed.
"I ran to the hospital, in blood stained clothes, by the time I got there, Emma was awake. I had never seen her so depressed in my life." He says and I wish I could make him more comforted. "She couldn't cry. She couldn't talk. She just kept her eyes on her hands, her fingers always running over her painted nails."
"Owen died." He admits and a chill runs down my spine. I was sitting in a car with a boy who killed someone out of rage. This terrified me on so many levels. "Hey, hey.." He said softly, noticing my fear. "Don't be scared, I couldn't ever hurt you. Listen to me when I say.. I thought he killed her, me and Emma.. We were a,ways so close, she was always more like a mother. So when k saw her just laying on the floor so lifeless.. I lost it."
"Please don't fear me." He asks and I nod. "I wasn't arrested for killing him. It was self defense, the lawyer I had told me he would have faced the death penalty for killing a child and almost killing Emma." He killed someone.
"Emma.. She lives with us. She says she's happy. But she doesn't faze me, she can drink all the alcohol she wants, it won't bring back that kid. It never will." His voice catches and tears spill down his face.
I get out of my side of the car and walk over to his. I open his door, and pull him out. He leans against the car, looking completely drained from happiness. It's all a cover. That smirk, the happiness he show cases, it's a shade. This is him. A very sad, teenage boy, who just wants to help. I hug him, wanting him to feel okay again. And thank god, he hugs me back.