Good Girls Love Bad Boys

There's An Answer To Every Question

// Dinger's POV //

Anne fidgeted uncomfortably in her seat. She sounded so assertive when she told me she had to ask me questions, but why was she so scared now?

It was starting to get me scared. What was she going to ask? Did she know something I didn't? I started to regret letting her ask questions. What if one of my answers upsets her, and she walks out? I can't deal with that much pressure; especially not right now.

"What happened, Dinger?" Anne's first question came out in a whisper, her voice cracking only slightly.

Starting out on a heavy subject, I see. But who didn't see that question coming?

I bit my lip, avoiding eye contact with her. I didn't know how to tell her my "step dad" almost murdered me. I didn't want sympathy, it made me feel weak. Although, I was weak already. Physically, emotionally and mentally.

"Uh," I trailed off. Not a lot happened, and there wasn't much to explain, but still it was so hard to talk about. There was more to it than what went on. Why and what drove him to try killing me was one of the topics that I just couldn't genuinely figure out. Maybe he just truly hated me.

"My step dad," I managed to mutter, cringing at the choice of words I used. David was nothing like a father figure; not to me, not to anybody, "We, uh, we don't get along very well," I chuckled lightly, trying to lighten up the mood a bit with the irony of the situation.

Anne-Marie wasn't laughing. I quickly stopped laughing and looked down at my hands in my lap, "Is that it?" I asked.

"Is it true your mother ran over your leg in her Volvo?" I looked up to see her still looking down at her hands. She didn't want to make eye contact with me. Maybe because I looked like shit.

I mean, for someone who ripped their IV and stitches out and almost lost their life, I must look bad. Not to mention the exhaustion and sadness in my expression, too.

"Uh yeah, that's true," I looked down at my leg. What a fucking joke. Me and my leg.

"Why?"

"I was at a party, and blacked out under the car. My mom got into the car to go to work and didn't see me," I kept my answers right to the point. There was no need for explicit detail. Bottom line, my life sucked shit. When my mom ran over my leg, she just kept driving like nothing happened. I had to walk myself to the hospital. With a broken leg. How fucked up is that?

Anne-Marie nodded slowly. She looked up at me, curiosity still sparking in her eyes. Clearly there were more questions waiting to be answered.

"Anything else?" I pushed her to ask me another one, because now I was curious as to what she was curious about. If that made any sense at all. Nothing made sense to me anymore.

"When you agree that smoking is bad for you, but continue to do it anyway because the reason you smoke is worse," Anne-Marie paused, "Is the reason your mom and dad?"

"He's not my dad." I quickly responded, "Mostly the reason,"

"Why'd you sleepover at my house that one night? When you could have slept over at Bobby's?" She took in a deep, shaky breath. Her bottom lip quivered only slightly, but I saw it. Was she going to cry?

"Um.. David, my step dad, he pushed me down the stairs. Him and my mom were doing cocaine. And I didn't want to be around them," I shrugged. That wasn't hard to admit. Probably the easiest question yet. It wasn't like some sappy book about the hardships of a family that catches the eye of the reader. To the reader, it might be just a story, but to me, it's reality. It's how I live.

I looked at Anne-Marie. All bruised up and cut. There was dried up blood on her cheek and temple. Her blonde hair was knotted and messy, and her clothes were torn. Her eye was dark purple and swollen shut. Thankfully, it looked like it was starting to heal. Those things hurt. I've only gotten one once. I'm usually the one giving them, and even when you punch someone in the eye, it hurts just a little bit.

Annie looked at me and our eyes met. Well, her one eye met with mine. It was grey and clouded with hurt, curiosity and something else that I couldn't figure out. But even with the hurt flashing in her eyes, and the bruises and cuts still on her face, she was beautiful. One of the most beautiful people I've ever seen.

And I don't just mean looks. Her personality was beautiful, too. How much she cares for others, her kindness, how innocent and awkward she is. I never fully recognized how I treated her, and never fully understood why she was here. I treated her like shit, like she was nothing. But in reality, she was everything to me. It just took me a while to realize it.

My heart felt all warm and fuzzy, a feeling I haven't felt in a while. Maybe forever even. I don't remember the last time i cared so much about someone. Well, I mean, besides Bobby, but you don't get this sort of feeling from your best friend.

I loved her. I loved her a lot. And I had to tell her.

"Anne-Marie," I hesitated, "I-I..."

Suddenly, the door swung open, hitting the wall with a bang. Anne-Marie and I both flicked our heads up to the door.

There, a figure stood in the doorway. Someone I never thought would come to see me if this situation, or a remotely similar situation ever occurred...

My own mother.

------------

fuckin ms holfield you ruined everything :-) anyway exams are coming up so you might not get an update in like minimum of two weeks .. but yeah :-) hope you enjoy this chapter and please give me feedback