Here I'll Stay

by Dominique Laura

  “Daysie, was it?” His voice was deep, so deep I was sure I could get fall to sleep listening to it.

  “Yes.” My voice was hoarse. I cleared my throat. “Sorry, did you need something?”

  He pursed his lips as if fighting a smile. “Yeah. I just needed to give you your card back.”

  “My card?”

  “Yeah. You know, the one you used to pay for the ice cream?”

  It was then I felt something cold and wet slide down my arm.

  Horrified, I grabbed a napkin off the counter and wiped it off. “So sorry.”

  I could hear Sarah’s muffled laughter as I grabbed my card and nearly ran out the door. I would’ve fully ran except I would have lost what was left of my ice cream and I definitely couldn’t have that.

  As soon as I was blasted with the muggy outside air, I knew I was safe. For now, at least. I was usually calm and collected, and okay a little awkward, but for some reason, and I was blaming his good looks, I turned into a gawking school girl in front of him.

  “Day, what the heck was that?” Sarah sputtered through her laughter.

  I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

  “Do you know who that was?”

  “Sure.” I shrugged. “He’s one of Jason’s friends.”

  “Right. But he’s also Brenton Connors.”

  “Is that supposed to mean something to me?” I raised a curious brow.

  “He’s the guy that Maci hooked up with junior year. Don’t you remember?”

  “Not really.” My heart hurt. “Wait, if he’s one of Maci’s ex hookups, why did you want me to see him?”

  “Because, he had noticed you long before he noticed her.”

  “I highly doubt that.”

  “Well, don’t. Because it’s true.”

  “Whatever.” I continued eating my ice cream. “If he’s friends with Jason, I’m sure he isn’t a good guy.”

  “That’s where you’re wrong.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “He isn’t friends with Jason, he’s his cousin.”

  “His what?” I questioned numbly.

  She smirked. “You heard me.”

  “I don’t understand what you’re trying to say. Why can’t I just enjoy my ice cream?”

  “You can.” Her voice lowered an octave. “All I’m saying is that Jason has been your bully for so long that I think it’s time we got that revenge we were talking about before.”

  “Revenge usually ends up bad for everyone involved.”

  “Maybe, but we’ve got until school ends to finally give Jason what he’s had coming for a long time.”

  I would have been lying if I said my interest wasn’t piqued. “And how exactly are we going to do that?”

  “By getting his cousin involved.”

  “I really don’t think that will work.”

  “Why do you say that?” She asked.

  “Because he’s seen him in action and hasn’t done a thing about it, I doubt now would be any different,” I said.

  “Well, even if it isn’t for revenge, I still think you should give that boy a chance.”

  “You’re talking like he wants one.”

  “Judging by the way he was looking at you in there, I don’t think there’s anything Brenton Connors would want more.”

  I wasn’t going to push the subject any further. I just hoped she would forget about it and not bring Maci into it. I mean, I’m sure that wouldn’t be a problem considering her past with him. She wasn’t the type that liked to share. It just wasn’t in her nature, and it wasn’t in mine either. I would never do that to a friend. But if I were being honest, I knew just as well as anybody that whether you wanted something to happen or not, if it was meant to it would happen anyway.

  I had a feeling that Brenton Connors—apparently using his full name was a thing—was meant to happen. I just wish I would have been more prepared for it when he did.

  “Seriously, Day, you make the best cup of coffee ever.” Maci groaned while taking a gulp out of her cup.

  “That would be the machine sitting pretty on my kitchen counter, but thanks anyway.” I spoke into my own cup of coffee, stealing a quick sip.

  “So, Sarah mentioned your run in with Jason’s cousin the other day.”

  I knew that would come up eventually. “What about it?”

  “I think you should go for it.”

  “Go for what?”

  “Him.”

  “Why would I do that?” I asked cautiously.

  “Why wouldn’t you?” She counteracted.

  Sarah chose to return from the restroom at that exact moment.

  “Why did you tell her about Jason’s cousin?” I asked her.

  “You mean Brenton?” She said, sitting on the chair across from me.

  “Who else would I be talking about right now?”

  She shrugged, indifferent. “I don’t know. I just thought she should know. I mean, he is cute.”

  “So, the only reason you told her was because you thought he was cute?”

  “Of course not.” She smiled, taking a long sip out of her mug. She and Maci shared a look. “The reason I told her is because I knew she would think it would be a good idea too.”

  “She knew what would be a good idea too?”

  “You and Brenton.”

  “There is no me and Brenton.”

  “Not yet.” They both smirked, sharing another look. “But there will be.”

  “You two are ridiculous, I swear.”

  Maci rolled her eyes while Sarah gave me a gentle smile. “Just think it over, okay? We won’t even interfere. If anything happens, we definitely want it to happen naturally.”

  “Really?” I asked, not really believing them. Not with how nosey they both were.

  Before one of them could respond, my bedroom door swung open and hit the wall with a thud. My dad stood in the doorway, eyes wide and hair disheveled. He was on something again. Either that or his body was shivering for fun. I was going to go with option one.

  It wasn’t the first time something like that had happened. It was almost routine. At least once a day, sometimes more, my dad would come barging in my room when he was either starting on a high or getting off one. I just preferred for him to do it when my friends weren’t around. Luckily, they had witnessed one of his moods before so I wasn’t as embarrassed as I was the first time he lost it around them.

  “Dad, we’re in the middle of something.” I kept my voice steady and uninterested. When I reacted, that was when the real fighting began. I was going to avoid that at all costs, especially with my two best friends there.

  He ignored my comment and instead gave Maci and Sarah a nod of acknowledgment. “I haven’t seen you girls in a while. What have you been up to?”

  There was a reason for that. He wasn’t an easy person to be around. Aside from momentary pleasantries, that was as far as his kindness went. I mean, if one could even call it that.

  “Mr. Flores,” both of my friends said at the same time. I was grateful for their neutral voices. It meant he wouldn’t know that they knew he was about to get mean, whether he realized it himself or not. So, I placed my coffee mug on the table beside my bed and waited.

  I knew it was coming. How did I know? Something in his eyes shifted and his body changed. That’s how I knew. It had happened so many times before, I was almost sure I was immune to it. That is until the stinging in the right side of my cheek got my attention and the surprised gasps of my two best friends filled the silence in the room.

  I stared up at my father, ignoring the pain in my cheek. He had just slapped me in front of my friends. He was mean, but I knew how to respond to it, which was by not responding at all.

  I placed my hands beneath my thighs to keep from reaching for my cheek. I couldn’t let him see the pain he had caused. I couldn’t react. I couldn’t do anything except sit and wait for him to go. That was the only way he would leave. It was expected at this point. I had been liv
ing in this cycle for so long that it worked on its own. All I had to do was sit and wait, hoping it would end just as quickly as it happened—thankfully, it had.

  Several moments passed. I took deep breaths, held my tears back, and let the throbbing in my cheek distract me from my father’s heated stare.

  His eyes narrowed but mine remained still. I didn’t blink. I couldn’t. I knew if I would have then my tears would’ve given in and I couldn’t do that, not until he was out of the room.

  Several more moments passed.

  None of us made a sound.

  It was silent. So silent.

  Finally, my father huffed and shook his head as if disappointed in something, as if disappointed in me. He left my room the same way he had entered, with a slam of my door. The hinges rattled and I sighed in relief, blinking furiously as tears spilled from my eyes.

  I didn’t think they would ever stop. Crying had made a permanent home in my life, and I hated it. I hated how weak it made me feel.

  I swiped angrily at the tears, willing them to stop, but they wouldn’t give. Instead I cried harder, whimpering like a little girl who had lost her favorite toy. Except I wasn’t a little girl, and I hadn’t lost my favorite toy. I was a grown girl, and I had lost my father. I had lost him around the same time I lost my mother, when she decided to focus on work and not her family.

  Two pairs of arms wrapped around me from either side of my body and at the familiarity of it, I whimpered harder. I let the pain go as their hushed tones of comfort filled my heart. I wasn’t alone. No matter how much I felt like it sometimes, I was never alone. I had Maci and Sarah. I would always have them. I knew I would.

  By the time we had all pulled apart, my tears had dried and the stinging in my cheek had gone down. It was almost like it had never happened. Almost like he hadn’t hit me. No marks were left aside from a slight red blotch that would fade by morning. The only mark left was the one on my heart. The one that had stacked itself directly on top of the previous marks he had left before. It was almost like they were banding together, trying to lessen the pain. After all, misery loves company—or so they say.

  I smiled at my friends, my eyes drifting from them to my forgotten mug of coffee.

  “Damn.” I shook my head, feigning disappointment. “I forgot about my coffee.”

  We all laughed, choosing to forget about the bad that happened and focus on the good. That good was coffee. Coffee was a healer. It charged your body like nothing else and made all that was wrong in the world feel right, if only temporarily.

  I kept my eyes trained on my feet as each foot raced to beat the other. My arms went just as fast, trying to catch up with their speed and helped my body move just a little bit quicker.

  My thighs were burning, my lungs felt like they were on fire, and sweat kept slipping into my eyes. But none of those things stopped me. I pushed harder, glancing up every once and awhile to make sure I didn’t run into anything, or anyone, because that would have been awkward. Especially with sweat dripping from every pore on my body.

  I continued to stare at my feet, first left then right, as they switched places in my line of sight. I was running along the same trail I had used since sixth grade, since one of the very first times when Jason and his group of friends made fun of me and everyone laughed, even the teacher. Apparently, a little harmless teasing was acceptable, but who’s to decide whether it’s harmless or not?

  After his first jab at me, I ran home from school. It was then I discovered how therapeutic exercise could be. Running, specifically. So, since then, I ran along the same trail. The one that swerved through the park and allowed you to get from one end of town to the other, with houses scattered along side it.

  I didn’t run all the time. I only ran when something was bothering me or when I needed a distraction. Running was the best kind. When I ran, the only thing I focused on was my breathing, not the dysfunctional home life I had or even the fact that I was still getting bullied at the age of eighteen. The only thing I focused on was the run itself and trust me, that was about the only thing keeping me afloat because since I didn’t run or exercise as frequently as I should have, my stamina wasn’t very great and after about a mile in, I always felt both ready to pass out from exhaustion and refreshed. Mostly, I felt like death.

  As I came up on a turn, I pushed my body harder even though it killed my lungs to do so. For a moment, I let the burn consume me. It was easier to focus on that than the burning sensation inside my heart that had been a constant for as long as I could remember. Some moments it was unbearable, while others it was slightly easier to ignore.

  I slowed my pace as I came up to a water fountain. It was rooted in the perfect place because I always seemed to come up to it when I needed it the most.

  I love you, fountain, I inwardly thanked it.

  I leaned down and pressed my hand against the button to release the water. I took long sips, trying to catch my breath at the same time. Of course, this only led to me choking on a mixture of saliva, water, and air—if that last one was even possible.

  Gosh, I was such a spazz.

  As I continued to stand there, sipping more water in hopes that the choking would stop, it only intensified.

  Great, just great.

  I looked around. Since it was still so early in the morning there wasn’t anyone out. I doubt they were even awake. The only reason I was is because I couldn’t sleep the night before, not a wink. Plus, an early morning run before the sun came up seemed like a good idea at the time.

  So, I stood there and choked, eyes watering to the brink of tears, hoping to someone of any higher power that it would stop.

  I gripped the edges of the fountain, my knuckles whitening on either side.

  Is this ever going to stop? I’d like to continue my run without choking along the way.

  As if some higher power had heard my plea, I felt a hand gently start to pat my back, centering in between my shoulder blades. I sighed in relief, still choking except now I had water leaking from my eyes. Fantastic.

  The hand never wavered and after a few more seconds of awkward patting, I could breathe without choking.

  I turned around, ready to thank the person the hand belonged to because they had basically saved my life. I was prepared to offer them my first born if need be. It was the least I could do. If it weren’t for the basically part, I would’ve offered them payment in return but since I hadn’t been fully dying, I figured it was safe to thank them like a normal person.

  What I hadn’t figured was that the person who saved my life would have been the same person who played a part in ruining it.

  If this moment wasn’t the definition of awkward and uncomfortable then I don’t know what was.

  “Are you alright?” The person asked, all gravelly and deep. His voice would be the death of me, I was sure of it. I just needed to remember who shared his bloodline. That would definitely put a stop to my checking out his body, shirtless might I add, and ignore the way his right dimple was slightly deeper than his left. In fact, the left was non-existent in comparison. Huh, no wonder I hadn’t noticed it before. Thinking about Jason, the jerk that he was, would put a stop to it.

  “Daysie, right?” His hand was rubbing circles in the same spot he had helped save me in. But I knew he knew my name. He had to, what with his cousin being the Satan’s spawn and all.

  I closed my eyes, inhaling deep. I couldn’t let his good looks distract me. I couldn’t get lost in his eyes, no matter how blue or transparent they might be. Nope. I couldn’t do it. I wasn’t going to.

  When I opened my eyes, he was staring at me expectantly. Shoot, he had asked me something, didn’t he? Also, why was my body heating up instead of cooling down? I needed reality to make its entrance because my body obviously had a mind of its own and I had no time to put up with it. I had a lunch date to get ready for. A lunch date with my television and chocolate, that was.

  I cleared my throat. “Sorry. What did you say? I was too busy rec
overing from my near-death experience.”

  Maybe attitude would help repel him away.

  Repel? What the hell was I using? Bug spray?

  His head slightly tilted and a sparkle entered his eyes. But that could have been from the early morning sun. What did I know?

  His hand moved from my back to his hip. I was grateful for the distance. All that touching was clouding my judgment and for a millisecond my body contemplated betraying me. The little hussy.

  “I asked if you were okay.”

  “Oh.” I nodded, taking a step back. Distance. I definitely needed that. “Yeah, I’m okay.”

  “Good. Yeah.” His tongue darted out, almost in slow motion, to wet his lips, and darn it if that small gesture didn’t make me whimper just a little.

  I needed to focus on something other than his thick, full lips.

  Had I ever seen a guy with lips as plump as his? Never up close and definitely not in person.

  My eyes glanced down. His chest was moving up and down at a steady rate, covered in a thin layer of sweat. He had pecks. Muscular, smooth pecks. Oh my gosh.

  Stop it, Daysie. He’s the enemy. Remember Jason.

  My mind was in a battle with my body. I needed to get a hold of the situation as soon as possible.

  “So, anyway, thanks for, ya know, saving me.”

  “It’s not a problem,” he said. “I was prepared to give you mouth to mouth if I had to.”

  And the battle continued, becoming increasingly difficult.

  Why did he have to be attractive and charming?

  And why did I laugh at the comment like I had actually found it funny?

  Because you did, silly.

  My mind seriously needed to mind her own business because I had no time for her right now. I needed to focus and she was distracting me with her negative attitude.

  Ugh, I sounded ridiculous. I needed to extract myself from the situation like twenty seconds ago. That’s how long I had been standing there like a girl who hadn’t seen pecks before, gawking at him. I know, because as my mind interjected with her opinion, I had counted. I had counted each second that passed in silence and once I was finished counting, after a bird’s chirp graciously interrupted, I knew I needed to leave.