Keeping the Bad Boy

Chapter 21

Right now, I should be imagining what I'm going to get for Christmas, but I find myself constantly worrying about him. I often catch myself staring at a black t-shirt or a golden gift bow under our tree, admiring how Sam's eyes matched the colors perfectly. A couple days after I talked to Dad on the deck, he told me that I might get my phone back the day after Christmas. You take what you can get I guess. I am so ready to go back to school, as weird as that may sound. I miss Sam too much. Sometimes I think about breaking up with him despite how much I love him. He never shows me any affection which makes me wonder if he even likes me that much. Sometimes he reminds me of Tate Langdon from the first season of American Horror Story-except he doesn't murder people. I tell myself that I need to move on and away from him, but the words float away and turn into thoughts of how much I believe I need him. My mom was in the kitchen talking to my aunt, so it's not like she would notice if I took a drive. I snatch my keys from my nightstand and make my way through the snow to my jeep. I climb in and start the engine. It comes to life and the CD in the player starts from where it left off. It was a CD that Sam had made for me-with some help from his brother. It wasn't even on a song that either of them had played. Almost halfway through the beautifully performed piano piece, you could hear a child laugh and another squeal in the background, but the player never faltered. They never told me who performed the piece, but you could tell that the audio wasn't very new due to the quality. I had come to the conclusion a while back that it must be his mother that played it. (He had mentioned once that his mother played the piano and the children in the background were obviously small boys.) She must have been an amazing woman. I back out of the driveway as the image of a woman with long dark hair seated at a piano flashes through my mind. The song ended and for a split second, I could swear that you hear the sound of someone slapping someone, a child flying to the ground, in return crying out in agony. The recording completely cuts off after you hear an un-understandable voice mutter something. I never asked Sam or his brother about the end of the song, but I don't think it would benefit me to ask.

My mind had wandered off and when I jerk back to reality, I have to yank the wheel to the left just to keep from running off the road. I need to break up with him. I silently decide to wait until we go back to school. I stop at a red light and ball my fists into my lap. The CD finally ends and starts on another. A mix I made a couple of years ago. Say Something was the first song that played. My nails dug into my palms and I could feel the blood well up and the world became slightly clearer. It was almost ten in the morning and there wasn't a car in sight. I hear the loud rumble of an engine coming up behind me and glance up at the light. It was still red and in the rear view mirror I see a black hummer pull up next to me. I don't look over at the driver, scared that they might be able to tell that I was crying. I jump when I hear a voice shout my name. I glance up at the road and then to the driver next to me. He had his window rolled down and was halfway hanging out of it. "Ryder," I breath. No, this can't be happening. I turn forward and the light has gone from red to green, and back to yellow. I zoom through it, needing to get away from Ryder. I find myself driving toward the school. I kill the engine and try to think of why I brought myself here. Mr. Madison, my mind remembers. I climb out, pulling the baggy sweater tighter around me as the wind cuts through me like razor blades. I meander around the building to his window, which-surprisingly- was open. I don't know why I expected him to be here. I pull myself awkwardly onto the window sill and push my body through the large opening. The room is warm and Mr. Madison sat at his desk, like always, reading a thick book with his feet propped up and peanuts littering his desk. He stops chewing and slowly raises his eyes and meets mine. He smiles, sets the book down, and leans forward. "Courtney, the last person I expected to see on this beautiful holiday break. What brings you to me?" he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose. "Mr. Madison, I have a question," I say, sitting down on the top of a desk. "Well don't keep me in suspense , young lady. Ask away," he says, popping another golden peanut into his mouth. "How do you decide to stay with someone or break up with them?" "Such a romantic question from a woman that reads so much romantic literature. I'm surprised that you need my help in such a situation," he says and meets my eyes. He holds my gaze, then finally says, "This is about Sam, isn't it?" I nod and look down at the cracking tile floor. "I see...now tell me, why is it that you wish to let go of him?" "I don't know if he really even likes me. He just holds my hand and on rare occasions he will hug me or kiss my forehead. He never shows that he wants a real relationship. He treats me like a little kid, Mr. Madison," I say and wrap my arms around myself. He takes a deep breath. "That boy has been through so much, Courtney. It takes him a while to let that wall down, that's something you need to understand," he says and walks over to stand in front of me. "I don't have forever though and it's been, like, three months already." He lets out an exasperated sigh and rubs his eyes. "I knew this would happen. I just prayed that you would have the patience to let him love you. Everything takes time, Courtney. Sam is like a midnight flower. He will bloom perfectly once and if nobody is there to witness that perfection, he will fold back up. It will take him a long time to open back up and even when that happens, it won't be as beautiful. Do you understand?" "Yeah, I think. You're telling me to give him time or I could ruin him forever," I said. "Not ruin exactly, but he would never be the same. He is scarred on more levels than just physical. Don't listen to the rumors you might her about him. He is a truly wonderful boy, but as I said, he has endured a lot. He does his best, Courtney. Just remember that." I nod. "Thank you," I say, rising to leave. "Don't thank me yet, Courtney. Thank me after this relationship doesn't crash and burn."