Before You

by Annie Brewer

  Before You

  Copyright © Annie Brewer 2015

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher or the author.

  Requests for permission to copy part of this work for use in an educational environment may be directed to the author.

  This book is a work of fiction. References to historical events, real people, or real locales are used fictitiously. Other names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination, and any resemblance to actual events or persons or locales, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Slouched in the office chair, I attempt to listen as my principal drones on and on about my grades and academic successes, which are pretty non-existent at this point. So this isn’t really a surprise when my teacher quietly excused me from class. I’m trying to tune her out, but my father is making it extra hard when he’s slapping me upside the head to pay attention. It’s just his excuse to abuse me, though subtly. “Kyler,” Mrs. Morris says my name in a warning and I snap my head up, giving her a subtle glare, when it’s really meant for the bastard on the other side of my mom. “You’re going to fail if you can’t keep up your studies.” As if this was news to me. I don’t give a shit about my grades, or this school. I bite my tongue for my principal’s sake. And my mother’s.

  Beside my mom, I can feel daggers being thrown into the side of my face. My dad is pissed about being here in the first place. I suppose I can’t blame him—after all, I’ve interrupted his life and have become an embarrassment to him. “I say fail the little shit. He doesn’t care about anything but himself,” says the man who abuses his child for just existing. Right, because I’ve had such a fine role model. I almost roll my eyes at the irony.

  My principal eyes my dad, stunned at the choice of words he used for his only son. Yeah, welcome to my world. At least you don’t have to endure his fist in your gut when he’s on a drunken rampage. Be thankful. “Mr. Davis,” she addresses him with very little kindness. She leans forward and places her folded hands on top of her desk. “If Kyler would apply himself, he’d be a great student. He’s a great basketball player but was kicked off the team because he doesn’t seem to care about school. This is no joking matter.” Who the fuck is laughing?

  Beside me, I feel movement. “Mrs. Morris, I assure you, he’s gonna try harder after spring break,” my mom pipes in. “I’m gonna get him some kind of help.” Great, her idea of help is, of course, professional help. Fuck that. I am not sitting in an office, revealing my deepest, darkest secrets to someone who doesn’t really give a shit about me, except for the paycheck I provide. Thanks, but no thanks.

  Mrs. Morris studies me, picking at my brain. I haven’t said much since we’ve come in here. I’m sure she wants my input. Well, here it is…I hate it here, in this state of Oregon. I want to go back to Texas. I hate my father. I hate my life. I hate… I hate… I hate. That might be too much hate for her. So I continue to sit here and drill holes in the wall with my glare.

  She does that head tilt thing, eyes questioning, zeroing in on me. I know this because the moment I make eye contact, I’m held captive. “Do you have something you’d like to add?”

  I purse my lips together to keep from saying what I really want to say. Instead, I blurt out, “I’d like to be finished with this meeting.” My leg bounces up and down with agitation.

  “You’re such a screw-up, Kyler.” My dad shakes his head—the look of pure disdain in his eyes says I’m in deep shit when we get home. “You’re never going to succeed. You’re such an embarrassment to this family.”

  My mom, always the peacemaker, places a hand over my dad’s arm and tells him quietly to stop causing a scene. “Honey”—she reaches for my hand, a smile of distress playing on her lips—”your father doesn’t mean it. He’s just dealing with a lot right now.” There’s always an excuse for his behavior and it’s always the same. As if his abuse is justified because he’s going through shit. Fuck that.

  I pull away from her and glance at my principal, who is watching the scene unfold in front of her with disbelief. My laugh comes out bitter as I look back at my mom. “Seriously? He’s going through a lot?”

  “Kyler, the bell will be ringing soon. We need to wrap this up.” Mrs. Morris glances between all of us as if she doesn’t know how to end this meeting. I can tell she isn’t pleased with my dad, but she’s not sure what to do. She rests an elbow on top of her desk, her chin propped on her hand, a finger tapping against her mouth. She finally releases a frustrated breath, scratching the back of her neck before standing. “We need to meet again after spring vacation.”

  We all stand as she makes her way to the door to see us out. She shakes hands with my mom, but my dad has already stomped away because he can’t find it in him to be polite. Once my parents are both out of the office, she quickly closes the door and I’m stuck inside with her, alone. “Kyler”—she crosses her arms, and I finally meet her concerned dark eyes with annoyance—”how are things at home?”

  I don’t want to discuss my personal life with this lady, no matter how caring she seems. So I force a grin, hoping she’ll buy it. “Everything’s fine. Peachy. Awesome.” I look away before my expression betrays me. “Can I go now?”

  “There are people you can talk to, those that will help. You don’t have to go through all of this.”

  I roll my eyes and let out a sigh of irritation. “I’m not talking to a fucking shrink.” My anger is boiling over and I wonder if she can see my eyes start to fill with moisture. I can’t let that happen. With a jerk, I get the door open and storm out of her office. My parents are waiting in the hall. I stop in front of them but only address my mom. “I’ll be home later.”

  She nods, pulling me in for a hug. She whispers so only I can hear, “I love you, Ky. You’re my baby boy. Remember that.” She releases me and turns her head before wiping her eye.

  As much as I hate my mom for putting me through hell, I still love her. She’s obviously having a hard time, too. Her husband’s a complete piece of shit, and her son isn’t much better. If anything, I feel worse for her. I mouth the words I love you, too and wave as I head for my locker on the second floor since there’s no point in going back to class. The bell’s about to ring.

  The hallway is quiet when I come to a stop to open my locker. I press my forehead against the cool metal door, replaying all of what was said during the meeting. I’m so completely fucked up, and I don’t know how to change it, how to rid this feeling of emptiness and worthlessness. Snatching my cell phone from my pocket, I stare down at the face on the screen, at the only thing in my life that still manages to bring a smile to my lips, even miles away and even when all I feel is pain in my life. It’s worse because she’s not here. She’s been in my life since we were eight. Until I had to leave her.

  She’s also someone I can’t ever have for the fact that she doesn’t know how much I want her. She won’t. Ever. Addison Reynolds only exists in my dreams now. And there she’ll remain. As much as I need her, I can’t rely on someone who has a bright future ahead of her. I’d only drag her down with me into my darkness. It wouldn’t be fair to her. So, I’ve forced myself to forget about her, including ignoring all of her calls and messages. It’s been
two years since I was in Texas, visiting her. I was sure the feelings I had developed for her during that summer would fade. They didn’t. So I’ve kept her out of my life since then. But I’m not strong enough to forget her completely. I hold on to the many memories we made as kids and the plethora of photos we had taken. It’ll have to be enough. It’s better this way. I’d never be able to make her happy.

  Taking a few shallow breaths with my eyes closed, I clench my hand into a tight fist, back away from the locker, and then throw a punch to the door beside mine. The pain radiates up my hand as the sound echoes throughout the hall, which doesn’t even faze me if someone were to hear. School’s about to be over for a week, anyway. Let them expel me. I shake my hand, feeling the sting, flexing my fingers, and catching sight of blood covering my knuckles. Shit. I hit the sharp part of the slits on the window. But I don’t see a dent anywhere, so that’s good. Just need to focus on breathing. I’ve taken hits way worse than this.

  “Excuse me.”

  I spin around to find a teacher staring at me, and her eyes go right to my hand. “Oh, that.” I cover it with my other hand and shrug. “I had a slight incident. I’m so clumsy.” The laugh comes out so fake, I want to cry instead. I turn behind me and shut my locker.

  She seems to buy my act. “I thought I heard a loud banging noise. I didn’t know if I was hearing things or what.”

  I bite my bottom lip to keep my words from coming out. Either I’m a better actor than I realized or she’s just that gullible.

  “You should get it cleaned up,” she suggests. Her voice is kind and genuine.

  I nod with the intention of going to the bathroom to take a piss. I may as well wash this shit off while I’m at it. I thank her as I make my way to the restroom down the end of the hall. I stop at the urinal and do my business, thinking about how easy that was. Now I just need to fix my hand up.

  About the time, I finish washing my hands and pressing a cool paper towel to my knuckles, the bell rings, indicating the end of school. Thank fuck.

  I step out into the crowded hall as Greg and Brent round the corner and see me. “Hell to the fucking yes.” Greg raises both of his fists into the air like he’s fist pumping. “Party time, bitches.”

  Brent rolls his eyes in exasperation, as do I. Well, I could actually go for a party tonight. “Let me guess, party at your house?” I point to Greg.

  “Fuck no, party at Brent’s.”

  I meet Brent’s neutral gaze, waiting for him to confirm. He does have parties, but he doesn’t drink near as much as Greg and I do. He nods his head and I clap him on the back. “Okay, I’ll be there.” I lean closer so only he can hear me and say, “If anything, just to keep you company.”

  He grins at me in gratitude.

  Jeff and Randy join the group, weighing in on the plans for tonight. They tell classmates as they’re passing by about the party, which I can tell isn’t Brent’s idea. Still, it doesn’t stop them from inviting half the school. They’re on the football team, whereas Brent and a few other guys in our group are on the basketball team. But we’ve all been friends since middle school, shortly after my parents uprooted us to Middle of Nowhere, Oregon.

  Our high school is a decent size, not the biggest for bands, though. Even so, it’s big enough for the small-sized town it is in. Before moving here, we lived outside of Dallas, Texas and then Denver, Colorado before that. I’d say this is the smallest town I’ve lived in. Not much to do around here, unless you go to Portland, which is a forty-minute drive, depending on traffic.

  “Yo, Ky.” I look up when I hear Randy say my name. “Heard you were pulled into Morris’s office.” Of course, he did. News travels fast around here. Plus, I noticed one of the seniors I had slept with was helping the attendance clerk and saw me. She probably texted him right away to stir up gossip.

  “What the hell did she want now?” Jeff pipes in, and then makes indecent gestures with one hand and his dick.

  What a sick fuck. I punch him in the gut, too bad it wasn’t hard enough. “My parents were there, you dumbass.”

  “Too bad,” Randy says. “She’s pretty fucking hot for a principal. I’d do her.”

  I brush off their taunts with a scoff. “Whatever. It’s the same shit every time.” I gaze the hallway, trying not to pay them any attention. They’re so crude, with no class. It’s hard to believe I used to be like them. I’m trying to be better.

  They all laugh. “Yeah, about you failing,” Greg remarks. “Dude, you’ll be twenty before you graduate.”

  I shoot him a glare. “Dude, shut the fuck up.” My voice is a loud echo through the hall, but I don’t care who hears me. Greg always thinks he’s hot shit and he’s a dick about it. And I’m not about to stand here and let him jerk me around the way my father does.

  He puts his hands up in surrender. “I’m just tellin’ it like I see it.” The smirk he’s flashing at me has my blood boiling in my veins.

  I move to get in his face, but Brent holds me back. “Don’t start shit if you can’t finish it,” I warn him. I push Brent away from behind. “Get off me,”

  “What’s going on here?” Mr. Bush, our history teacher, glances between each of us. “School’s out, time to go home.”

  “Yeah, school’s out,” Greg mimics the teacher’s words loudly, “which means we can’t get in trouble. So everyone,” he addresses all the students passing by with both hands raised, “see you all tonight. Party time!” And he’s gone.

  I’m in need of a cigarette. I start to make my way out the door to the school parking lot when Shelly, dressed in her cheerleading get-up, approaches with her hips swaying as she walks, and I immediately hold her body hostage once she’s right in front of me. Luckily, no one of importance is in the hall so I use that to my advantage, crushing her body against the wall of lockers with mine. My body responds in the way it always does to hers, with need and lust.

  She’s groaning as my hand slips between the fabric of her short skirt and the bare skin of her ass. “We should take this somewhere more private,” she mumbles between pants against my mouth. She gropes me over my jeans so my dick is throbbing, ready, and willing.

  I vaguely hear whistles behind me and someone mumbles, “get a room,” but I ignore them since my sexual frustration is overpowering all logic. I probably should stop before I take her up against the locker for all my peers to see. Don’t need to be on the Internet for public display of teenage porn. That’s just another reason for my dad to hate me and the principal to expel me. So I remove my hands from her body, leaning my head in the crook of her neck to try and control my breathing and adjust myself. “We should stop.”

  She kisses me when I lift my head to glance at her. “I have cheer practice, anyway.” Her hands running up and down my chest isn’t helping the self-control a bit. And she knows it. “Maybe I’ll come by your house later and we can pick this back up.” She winks at me as she squeezes out from under my arms that were blocking her in.

  I walk backward in the other direction, watching her sway her hips. I call out, “Make sure you wear that outfit.” One last glance over her shoulder with a promising nod and killer smile, and then she’s gone. I push through the double doors, the late afternoon breeze slapping me in the face, which I welcome as I head to my pick-up truck.

  I have a feeling this vacation is gonna be one to remember.

  ***

  Back in my room, I change into my work-out shorts and wifebeater, grab my ball, and trek through the wooded area behind our house where a river separates me from my father when I need to be alone, on the other side is a basketball court. My basketball court. I set my bottle of water and cell phone on the bench before getting into my zone. Even though it’s cool outside, my body works up a sweat as I dribble and shoot.

  Two hours later, I’m exhausted and hot as I tear the shirt off my body, wiping the moisture from above my eyes before it trickles inside and blinds me. My shirt is soaked, but I still wipe my face with it, catching a whiff of perspira
tion and cringe at the stench. I push on, though, no matter how much I’m sucking now, I attempt basket after basket…determined. Half I miss from lack of motivation and half I make from sheer luck. Thinking about the game, how much I miss it and how good I am when I’m seriously trying, pisses me off. I only have myself to blame for getting kicked off the team, I know this. It just sucks. Finding something I enjoy that isn’t drugs or sex related, something I could even have a future with, isn’t a normal occurrence for me. And I fucking blew it. I blew my chance to be someone, to prove to my father that his lack of love and support hadn’t affected me. Instead, I proved the opposite.

  Maybe he’s right—I’ll never be worthy of anything. Goddamn, I hate when he’s right. Not that he is all the time, but in this case, I let the darkness consume me and I lost myself. A shell of a person I once was is all that’s left now.

  “Damn, look at that sexy body.”

  I whirl around to find Shelly, still in her cheerleading outfit, coming toward me with slow, deliberate steps.

  “Even all sweated up, you can make a girl drop her panties.” She stops and waits, hooking her finger, beckoning me over.

  Tossing the ball in the grass, I focus on keeping the saliva in my mouth as I saunter up to her. My gaze roams her outfit. “What about you?” I stare down at her—I’m a foot taller—while my hands immediately find their way to her ass, moving south over the thin fabric. “This outfit makes a guy forget what he was doing.” I flash her a cheesy grin, though my eyes are lust-filled.

  Her arms reach up to wrap around my neck, body pressed against mine. “Does it make you change your mind?” She nuzzles my neck to distract me, but it doesn’t do much good. I know what she’s referring to, and I wish she’d drop it. “We are so good together.”

  Ignoring the urge to call her out on this topic, I focus on giving into my physical needs instead, because I’m really not in the mood to talk about it. It’ll only piss me off. Closing my eyes, I let my lips travel from her jaw, down to her collarbone, and back up. My body is in need of a physical connection. And release. The tension in my body has me wound as tight as a rubber band. All these negative emotions need to leave my system.