The Secret Youtuber

Chapter Eleven

A/N: At the time I am writing this, it is 1:30 AM and I've just finished my homework. I am entirely exhausted, so mighty apologies to you all if this chapter is not in tip-top shape. :) Also, this chapter contains a touchy subject. You have been warned o:

"Okay then." Liam says, resting his hands on the table. I look away from Sean. He couldn't! Especially not if he knew.. Stop, Ainsley. It's the past.

We avoid the topic for the rest of the meal. The pizza was outstanding--no wonder Alex practically spends his life here. I look at my plate, which has two pieces of crust resting on it. I hate the crust. Not just this pizza, but every pizza. I've never been a big crust eater.

"Who's driving home?" I ask, reclining back in the booth. I sit back up as my leg awkwardly rubs against Mitch's.

"Save the footsies for later." He gives me a cheeky smile and a wink. I shake my head and chuckle.

"You can." Liam volunteers me. "Sean definitely will not be driving us anywhere while we're in Canada."

"Hey, you guys didn't offer to drive so I had to be the nice guy!" Sean says, mouth full of pizza. "And it's not my fault Mr. Graser10 didn't give me the directions fast enough."

"I thought you knew the area!" Alex laughs, grabbing another slice.

"How is he supposed to know the area if this is his first time to Canada?" Liam questions with a laugh.

"I did." I smirk.

"Oh shut up Ainsley, you didn't know anything about Canada!" Alex laughs, and Sean gives him a death glare.

"Don't tell her to shut up." I hear Sean mumble. Alex heard it too, then.

"It's fine." I say, looking over at Sean. Okay, yeah, he likes me. I understand that, but I'm old enough to take care of myself. No you're not. I don't need some guy to take care of me.

The conversation doesn't really go on. We pay and we leave. Quiet ride home. I say goodnight to everyone, and we all head to where we're staying.

I unlock the door to the house and let Sean in, then close it and lock it behind me. I set the keys on the keyhook beside the door and head towards my room.

"Hey, Ainsley," I stop. I turn around and look at Sean. "I'm so sorry that happened back there. I'm very protective." He says, messing with his hands.

"Protective over something that isn't even yours?" I shoot back, the words just rolling off my tongue so easily. My glare softens as I realize what I said.

"Protective over something I love." He replies, not even looking at me anymore. "Someone I love, rather." He corrects himself before walking into his room.

I walk into my room and shut the door. I sit against the door and pull my knees to my chest. I can't trust him. Guys are not to be trusted anymore. But you do trust him. He's going to be just like him. The thoughts run rapid in my mind--the memories, the thoughts of him finding me again--it's too much. My eyes well up with tears and they begin to flow. I open the bedroom door and run into the kitchen. I open a cabinet that is stocked with all types of liquor. I grab a bottle of rum and open it, then I begin to drink away. Drink away all the bad memories. But I'm still crying.

I grab the keys off of the keyhook and open the door, bottle still in hand. I slam the door behind me and head to the one place I know of around here. The bar. I walk drunkenly down the sidewalk, but I'm stopped when someone grabs my arm. I turn to punch the stranger with my freehand, but in my drunken state I can't manage to find him.

"Ainsley," It's Sean. I look into his eyes. Compassion. True compassion, not some fake emotion. I wrap my arms around his neck and begin crying into his shoulder. I'm standing on my tip-toes, and he's bent down a bit. "It's fine. Let's go back to the house." He whispers, gently rubbing my back as I sob.

He walks me back home and sits on the couch with me. His arm is around me and I'm leaning into his chest. I probably look like a mess. I grasp the bottle neck and take another swig.

"I didn't know you were an alcoholic." He states calmly.

I look at him. "I drink away all my sorrows, only for them to come back along with a hangover."

"What sorrows?" Oh, boy.

Ainsley, you're drunk. Don't tell him any-

"I was abused. Physically and sexually. I was abused by my step-father, but my mom didn't believe me. So, I moved out and moved in with my boyfriend when I was fifteen. He was eighteen. He treated me like a queen when we were in public, but he did something he said he would never do. He turned into my step-father. He did the exact same things, and I lived with it until I turned seventeen. I ran away from him, only to be found and brought back to his torture house. He threatened to hunt me down and kill me if I ever ran again."

Or tell him everything.

He stares in awe. "Why do you trust us?"

"I didn't. That's why I didn't want to show my face. Because I didn't trust any of you, and I was scared he would hunt me down. Then Alex found out and the whole thing went to shit." I take another swig.

"Ainsley, I'm so sorry. I would never do anything to hurt you." Sean whispers, pulling me into him.

"I hope not." I hiccup, taking yet another gulp. He reaches for the bottle and grabs it out of my hands.

"No more." He says, getting up and pouring it down the drain. I'm too exhausted to even care, and too drunk to even realize what I'm doing.

"You're too good for that stuff." He says as he takes his place beside me and pulls me into him. "You're too loved."

I laugh. "By who?" I ask, still laughing.

He gently turns my head to look at him. "Me. I love you." He whispers, then kisses my forehead.

"But I'm a mess!" I protest. "I'm drunk and I probably look like shit."

He shakes his head and chuckles. "Well, I guess I'll just have to cope with loving a mess."