Under the Texas Sky

CHAPTER 15

KIAN

16 years old

I open the door to my locker, the bruises on my rib cage causing a sharp pain to radiate through my body when I lift my arm. It could have been worse though. That’s what I tell myself. It could have been a broken bone, and I doubt I can explain away another broken bone as tripping and falling.

A note flutters to the ground at my feet, the yellow notepad paper slightly frayed at the edges and so severely creased it looks like someone sat there and folded it for hours on end without reprieve.

Slower than a sloth, I bend down to pick it up, sucking in a quick breath through my teeth so I don’t accidentally let out a moan of pain.

Two more years. I only have two more years until I move out and can make it on my own. No more having to worry about an alcoholic dad who likes to push me around, and mom who turns a blind eye to it.

Unfolding the paper with gentle fingers so I don't rip it in my overeagerness to see what's inside, I hold my breath while I read the words on the paper. And then I read them again. And again. And one more time.

I press the paper over my heart, holding it there and taking a deep, steadying breath. Marking my skin, my heart, my soul with these words from my lab partner. The same boy who told me I was beautiful on Friday. The same boy I ran away from after telling him I thought he was beautiful first. He doesn’t seem to mind much.

My smile is wide while I try to grab my books for class, but my side gives an argumentative throb. Maybe I can just skip out on carrying books for today. It wouldn’t be the first time, and it won’t be the last. I want to be someone who does well at school, but sometimes it doesn’t really work out the way we want. Some of us just get dealt shitty hands and we have to make the most of it.

I close my locker and turn to head to my homeroom when I almost crash into the boy behind the note. A slight smirk on his face, the left side of his mouth lifting up and highlighting the natural pink pout of his lips.

“Hi,” I say, willing my heartrate to calm down. But I know the wide smile is still in place.

“Hey, what are you doing? Mr. Johnson is going to kill you if you don’t bring your textbook.”

I shrug my shoulder on my good side, trying to come off unbothered, but the narrowing of his dark eyes tells me that I did not do a very good job.

“Get it and let’s go,” he demands, trying to sidestep me to open my locker.

“It’s fine, Trent.”

“No, it’s not. You didn’t bring your book last week, and I thought I was about to watch him have a cat and three kittens.” He puts his hand on my ribs and moves me to the side, causing me to crumble to the ground in pain.

The shock of it makes my vision black out and stars dance across the dark background. My stomach revolts like I’m about to throw up stomach bile, since I didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast this morning.

“Woah, what the fuck? What’s wrong?” Trent’s panicked voice reaches my ears, but I can’t move. My body refuses to listen to my brain’s demands. I can still feel the paper secured against my chest, and that’s the last thing I remember before I pass out.

Two hours and an ace bandage later, the nurse sends me home with strict instructions to ice it. Trent hasn’t left my side, brown eyes glued to me at all times, like he’s worried that I’m a mirage that will disappear the moment he gets a sip of water.

We walk in silence, him holding both of our school bags on one arm with his other hand clasped tightly in mine. The sidewalks to school are empty, so I don't worry too much about people seeing us.

Yep, totally normal for two high school boys to be holding hands and walking down the road together instead of being in class. Word would get back to my dad if someone saw, and then I’d have a repeat of last night waiting for me when I got home.

Trent’s obviously itching to ask me what happened. His cautious glances and furrowed eyebrows would be so dang adorable if I weren’t so embarrassed.

When we stop in front of my house, I stand there awkwardly, waiting for him to turn around and leave me on the sidewalk so I can escape to our clearing in the park. He doesn’t though. He stares at the house in front of him with a murderous glare, and I get it. You wouldn’t expect the preacher of the church to preach a sermon on love and forgiveness and then come home and fracture his son's bones.

“I’m okay,” I whisper, stroking my thumb across the back of his hand.

“No, you fucking aren’t, and I’m not leaving you here either.”

“I don’t have anywhere else to go.” It’s sad but true. And why escape the hell I know for one I don’t? It’s not as if it’ll make a difference.

“Come stay with me for a little bit. I'll protect you.” Trent’s jaw is set in a firm line, stubbornness leaking from his pores.

I don't know much about my future, but in this moment, I know that whatever it holds, Trent will be right there with me. Holding my hand through everything.