2. Cool Blue Eyes
2
Cool Blue Eyes
There were three of us in the restroom now, not two.
I cowered into the corner as the newcomer stepped between me and Eric. The back of a blue T-shirt blocked my view, and I craned my neck around it as Eric picked himself up off the floor. Why was he on the ground? Had he fallen?
“Last time I checked the dictionary, the meanings of the words stop and no hadn’t changed,” the stranger stated coldly. “Unless you’re aware of something I’m not.”
Eric stood on shaky legs, leaning against the wall for support as he glared at my rescuer with enough fury to set the wall on fire. I blanched at the sight of his unbuttoned jeans, the ends of his belt dangling obscenely.
“Shut the fuck up, pretty boy,” he snarled, pointing a thick finger in our direction. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
The boy shrugged, his wet curls wiggling. “I suggest you rethink your current plan, asshole, because if you come at him again, I won’t be so gentle.”
Veins popped along the back of Eric’s hands as he squeezed them into meaty fists. “Last chance, Blondie. Walk the fuck away.”
“You’re not touching him again,” the boy said as he bent his legs into a defensive stance, readying for the attack.
With a bellow, Eric lunged, and a pathetic cry of alarm broke past my lips as I envisioned the stranger beaten to a bloody mess before the psychopath came after me again. But it didn’t happen.
Eric swung out a fist to land a bone-crushing hit to Blondie’s face, but the boy dodged and struck out his own punch, fast as a viper.The crunch of cartilage cracked through the bathroom as his fist smashed into Eric’s nose. For one suspended moment, both fighters froze.
With a rough grunt, Eric cupped his face to staunch the flood of red pouring from his nostrils. He glared murderously at Blondie, then at me curled in the corner, trying not to hyperventilate.
Indecision played over his face, and for a moment, I thought I saw something like panic in his dark eyes. Then his expression went blank and cold. He shoved the boy out of his way and made a run for it.
“Hey!” Blondie said as he attempted to stop Boyt’s retreat.
They grappled for a moment, but Eric clipped his jaw with a poorly aimed elbow, causing him to stumble back and lose his grip on Eric’s shirt. Then Eric was gone, the sound of his heavy footsteps fading as Blondie straightened, rubbing at his chin.
Hugging my knees to my chest, I stared at the place Eric had disappeared, vision blurry. My breaths were short and loud in my ears, drowning out Blondie’s voice. I turned toward him, trying to focus, but he sounded far away even though he was crouched right in front of me.
I noticed his cool blue eyes first, like a vast ocean rippling with the promise of rapids farther in. His nose had a bump in the middle, like it had been broken in the past, and his thick eyebrows were pulled down in a harsh frown. I didn’t know him, but familiarity teased my brain, like I’d spotted him in the halls of the school from afar.
My broken brain processed that he was talking to me, but it didn’t sound like English. He shifted, and the scent of Irish Spring and spearmint chased away the cucumber melon clogging my nose. His mouth moved. Then his hand reached out, like he was going to touch my knee, and it snapped me out of my trance.
“Don’t touch me!” I cried, curling myself tighter.
Raising his hands in the universal sign of surrender, he spoke again, and I blinked several times as I tried to translate his words.
“…name?”
“Huh?” I furrowed my brows as I gasped in short breaths, trying to calm the adrenaline-laced fear pumping through my body.
Concern carved wrinkles into his forehead as he repeated his question slowly, in a soothing voice reserved for a cornered, wounded animal. “Everything’s gonna be okay. What’s your name?”
My name?
My tongue felt heavy, but eventually, I was able to stutter out a pathetic, “S-Silas.”
“Hi, Silas. I’m Ben.” He reached into his pocket and retrieved his cellphone. “Are you hurt? Do you need an ambulance or just the police?”
The question sent a different kind of panic racing through my veins. Police? Was he insane? There was no way in hell I was calling the police! Everyone would find out; the whole school would know, and I had enough problems already without adding on something like this.
And who would believe me anyway? A guy getting assaulted? Yeah, right! Without physical proof, it was my word against his. Ben was crazy to think I would breathe a word of this to anybody.
Rubbing my palms up and down my thighs, I shook my head. “No.”
“No, you’re not hurt? That’s good, Silas. That’s real good.”
I shook my head again, but he wasn’t looking at me. He was punching numbers into his phone.
“Listen, my coach is still here. I’ll go get him, and we can tell him everything while we wait for the police.” His thumb hovered over the green call button, like he was waiting for my permission.
“No,” I said again, and he cocked his head in confusion.
“No, what?” he said.
“No, it’s fine. I’m fine.”
My hand shook as I reached up and grasped the edge of the sink counter. I pulled myself to my feet, cringing away when Ben reached out to help steady me. He pulled away without touching me, phone still in his hand.
“Don’t call anyone,” I croaked. “I’m fine. Just forget it.”
“Forget it?” His concern morphed into astonishment. “Am I crazy, or was he just trying to—”
I interrupted him before he could say the word that would break me, the word that made this all too real. “Jesus Christ, would you let it go? I said I’m fine!”
Smoothing out my shirt, my fingers brushed the open button of my jeans. I fought off the strangled moan clawing its way up my throat as I forced my trembling fingers to close them. I couldn’t remember Boyt undoing my pants. My stomach roiled. Oh shit, I was going to throw up.
I shuffled around Ben, ensuring our bodies didn’t brush as I retrieved my backpack from where it had fallen during the scuffle. The tremors in my hands made it hard to grab the straps, and I shook out my hands with another choked sob.
“Come on. Fucking work.”
“Silas,” Ben said from close behind me, and I rounded on him, gesturing wildly.
“Stay the fuck away from me!”
His blue eyes widened, and he made a shushing noise that was supposed to be reassuring. It set my teeth on my edge.
“Whoa, okay. Just take a breath.”
“Stop talking.”
“Silas, you need to—”
“Shut up!”
Ben clenched his jaw, but his voice was even as he said, “You’re safe, okay? It’s over, and you’re safe. I’m not gonna hurt you.”
Ignoring him, I bent down and grabbed my backpack. I hooked it over my shoulder and scrubbed a hand over my face, fighting the hysteria licking at the back of my brain. When I moved to leave the bathroom, Ben shifted to block my escape.
“Wait, where are you going?”
I reared back, white-knuckling the straps of my bag. “Home.”
“Home?” He stared at me like I’d lost my mind, and my patience waned.
“Did I stutter?” I snapped. “I’m going home. Get the fuck out of my way.”
“We have to call the cops.”
“No, we don’t. I’m fine.”
Gritting my teeth, I shoved past him, making him catch himself on the wall. He called my name, but I didn’t slow. I wanted nothing to do with him, this strange boy who’d saved me, but as I rushed out the bathroom, gentle fingers circled my wrist to stop me. I knew it wasn’t Eric, but my last thread of sanity snapped. I spun with my fist flying.
The sickening whack of my fist meeting his jaw and the following pain crackling its way up my arm were immensely satisfying and almost enough to distract me from the heaving of my stomach brought on by his touch.
The momentum of my hit sent Ben staggering back a few steps, but he righted himself quickly. He touched his mouth, and his fingers came away bloody.
“Don’t fucking touch me,” I choked, panic lapping at my neck as it threatened to drag me under.
I was going to lose my shit in three, two, one…
I bolted from the bathroom and fled the school like the building was on fire. My sneakers slapped against the pavement as I sprinted to my truck in the back of the parking lot. I dug my keys out of my pocket and searched for the right one to get it unlocked. But the tremors were back, and I dropped my key ring twice before I could identify the correct key. Not that it mattered; the slot in the door proved unconquerable in my terrified state, and I couldn’t unlock the door.
Squeezing my eyes shut, I gripped my head and swallowed a scream. My hands smelled like Boyt’s cologne and cucumber melon soap, and my stomach heaved.
I abandoned my truck and rushed to the nearest patch of shrubbery, where I proceeded to empty the contents of my stomach viciously into the dirt. I choked and gagged until nothing but burning bile dribbled past my lips. When there was nothing left to purge, I gathered the bitter saliva in my mouth and spat to rid myself of the vile taste.
The air around me shifted, wafting spring soap in my direction, and I stiffened. Seriously?
Red appeared in my line of vision, and though I loathed accepting anything else from him, I snagged the damp cloth drenched in chlorine and wiped my mouth clear of any remaining vomit. When I wordlessly handed it back, Ben replaced the fabric with a bottle of room-temperature water, and I swished the liquid around my mouth before spitting into the bushes again. I did this twice more before I handed the bottle back to his waiting hands.
Managing a few steps, I leaned back against my truck. My legs felt like jelly, my knees weak, and I lowered myself to the ground to collect myself. I curled into a ball, my knees meeting my chest, and pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes until my vision turned red.
Shoes scraped against pavement, and Ben released a soft sigh as he hunkered down beside me, leaving a few feet of space between us. He didn’t say a word, and neither did I. So we sat in silence, the night deepening around us.
The October chill burrowed into my bones, making me shiver, but I ignored the goosebumps. Ben breathed evenly beside me, the cadence oddly comforting. Which annoyed me for some reason. I didn’t want him to comfort me. I didn’t even know him, and he’d just witnessed the most humiliating moment of my life. I felt bare and exposed, like a frayed nerve.
After far too long, I left the safety of my hands to inspect the boy beside me, and I startled to find him staring right at me. Our eyes met, and something unsaid passed between us before I jerked my gaze away, unsettled and confused.
“Has this happened before?” he asked, breaking the stillness, and my defensive sarcasm kicked in along with my temper.
“Why? Wanna join in next time? My schedule is pretty packed this weekend, but I can probably fit you in Monday. Talk to my secretary, Mrs. Kiss My Gay Ass, and she’ll set you up with an appointment.”
His brows flew up at my attitude, but he didn’t respond verbally. He was the picture of forced calm, save for the tightness in his shoulders and tick in his jaw. But his lack of temper cooled mine, and the fire under my skin flickered out as quickly as it had sparked.
“If you’re asking if I make it a habit of getting attacked in bathrooms, then the answer is no,” I finally said, my statement devoid of the intended heat. “First time. Should have gotten a discount.”
There was nothing humorous about the situation, so neither of us laughed. I glared down at my trembling hands as I bit my tongue to keep myself from rambling.
A bottle of Gatorade dropped into my lap, and I shot Ben a confused glance.
“It’ll help with the shaking,” he said in explanation.
Adding yet another thing to the list I already owed him, I swallowed my pride along with the lukewarm liquid, letting the sweetness purge my mouth of any lingering bile. I took another drink before screwing the cap back on and holding the bottle out to him. He took it from my hold, purposefully keeping his fingers from touching mine. Because he probably didn’t want to get punched again.
His bottom lip was split and swelling, and guilt joined the jumble of emotion tumbling through my chest. I needed to get out of here before I did something else I might regret.
“Well, this has been a real treat, but…” I trailed off, using my truck as a handhold to pull myself to standing.
Ben scrambled up after me as he tucked his Gatorade back into his rucksack. “Let me drive you home.”
“Yeah, no thanks.” Seeking my car keys, I patted my pockets. When I didn’t find them, I spun in a circle, searching along the ground. Did I drop them?
“I don’t think you should be driving,” Ben said hesitantly.
My annoyance simmered as I shoved my hands into my pockets, bypassing my phone and wallet. Where were my damn keys?
“Trust me, I’m good,” I bit out.
The jingle of metal sounded behind me, and I scowled at my key ring nestled in Ben’s palm. He closed his fingers around it as he squared his shoulders. “Seriously, just let me—”
“Why the fuck are you still here?” I shouted, wrenching my keys out of his grasp. “I don’t want you here. I don’t want your help or your concern, and God knows, I don’t want your pity. And if you’re waiting for me to suck you off as a thank-you, you can go fuck yourself!”
When he didn’t rise to the bait, my hands tightened into fists with the desire to punch him again. I itched for a fight, but he didn’t seem willing to grant me one as he watched me with a calm, cool sadness. His eyes strayed to my clenched fists, but he wasn’t afraid. If anything, his shoulders slumped with sorrow, and I hated it worse than his concern.
“You can hit me again if it’ll make you feel better,” he offered.
I gritted my teeth, utilizing every ounce of self-control I possessed. A fight might ease me for the moment, but I would regret it after.
“Fuck off.” I turned away from him as I unlocked my door and violently yanked it open, internally apologizing to Mabel for taking out my anger on her, the poor truck.
I tossed my backpack onto the bench seat and prepared to climb inside, but I paused as Ben’s whispered words reached my ears. “It wasn’t your fault, Silas.”
The sentiment nearly broke me, and I took the most fleeting glance in his direction as my eyes burned with tears I was unwilling to shed. I’d be damned if I allowed myself to shatter completely in front of him.
After holding his forlorn gaze for a brief moment, I grunted wordlessly and pulled myself into the cab of my truck, leaving his statement hanging.
I quickly started the truck and pulled out of the parking lot, my tires screeching as I pressed too hard on the gas pedal. But no matter how fast I peeled out of the lot, I couldn’t shake the heaviness of Ben’s gaze as he watched me flee.