Chapter 8 #3
He went on. “Look. I know I’ve already said it, but I want to say it again.
I know I made your life hell in middle school and high school.
I was a piece of shit back then, and I’ve never forgiven myself.
I’m so sorry. I know that being scared of who I was isn’t an excuse, but it’s all I have.
I knew you watched me. I knew you still had feelings even though I’d already turned on you and didn’t deserve them.
But I was looking too. I really thought you must have known. I was just so . . . scared.”
I looked out the window. “The betrayal hurt worse than your fists did.”
“I know.” His voice was uncharacteristically soft and shaky. He paused for a minute, then said, “I kept it, you know.”
I didn’t know; I had no idea what he was talking about. I looked over at him. “Kept what?”
He glanced at me, then back at the road.
“It’s under your seat. I forgot I brought it.
I had it with me when I got in the car last night, because I was looking at it.
I look at it a lot. It makes me feel awful, but makes me feel good at the same time somehow.
Like maybe I’m not truly the person I was that day in the gym, not deep down.
Like maybe I could still be the beautiful person you believed I was. ”
I was utterly perplexed by then. He looked at me again. “Just look under your seat.”
It almost felt like a trick, but the pain in his eyes was even clearer when I was sober.
I was pretty sure it went further back than Chicago.
I reached under the seat and felt around, clasping my fingers onto what felt like a folder.
I pulled it out as he reached the stop sign at the edge of town.
No one was behind us so he waited as I looked at him, then at the folder in my hands.
I opened it slowly and stared at the drawing inside.
The drawing that had forced me out of the closet, humiliated me, and wounded me almost beyond repair.
Yet it had shattered me when I watched him rip it up and throw it in the garbage.
Not only had he destroyed the most meaningful thing I’d ever created, but he’d proven how little he cared.
He’d ripped my heart into shreds with the paper in his hands.
But . . . he hadn’t ripped it or thrown it away. “How . . .” I started.
He sighed and drove on. “No one saw me slip it into my backpack on the way to the trash can. It was so beautiful, and it meant so much, there was no way I could just throw it away. I’m sorry I ripped the other ones, because that was a dick move too, but I had to throw them off the trail, and I needed to keep this one.
You can have it back if you want it. It’s an amazing drawing and I’m . . . I’m sorry. Again.”
I put the drawing back in the folder. “No. You keep it.” I placed it on the seat between us. “You’ve had it all this time. Just keep it.” My mind was reeling again and I didn’t know what to think or say. We didn’t speak for the rest of the drive.
As soon as we pulled into the parking lot, I knew I was fucked.
I immediately spotted Rory’s car and could see her in it, waiting for me.
I heaved a sigh and scrubbed my hands down my face.
Mason pulled up next to my car and Rory got out of hers on the other side, leaning on it as she stared me down.
“Give me your number,” Mason said. “I’ll text you so you have mine if you need anything.
I don’t trust those assholes.” I could tell that he didn’t like how far out of town I lived, starting from the moment I gave him directions.
I sighed but gave him the benefit of the doubt, along with my phone number, and my phone pinged with his text as I got out of the car.
I leaned back in the window, trying to ignore Rory’s eyes that were boring holes in the back of my head. “Thanks for the ride,” I said. I hesitated before adding, “And for getting me home safe last night.” Also for the mind-blowing fuck. She was still watching me, I could feel it.
“No problem,” was all he said. I unlocked my car and opened the door, finally looking up at Rory.
Mason pulled away, heading in the direction of his parents’ house.
“Well then,” Rory said, and I knew there wasn’t a chance she hadn’t seen who was driving that car.
“It seems you found a ride home and back, possibly with the same person who also beat the shit out of you in high school because you were gay and who you just said you hated yesterday.”
For some reason, all I could think of to say was, “I mean, he didn’t beat the shit out of me. He could have done a lot worse.”
She latched on immediately. “Oh my god. I actually thought maybe he was just tired and crashed on your couch, but you guys fucked, didn’t you? I don’t know whether to be happy for you or ashamed of you, Elijah. Are you kidding me?”
“Rory, just . . . I’m sorry all I did was drunk text you, but I’m really hungover and I just want to go home and lie down for the rest of the day, alright?
I can’t do this right now. I’ll talk to you at work tomorrow.
” I climbed into the driver’s seat with her eyes still on me.
“Thanks for making sure I got back, though.” I did appreciate her, but I did not want to deal with her shit.
She rolled her eyes. “Fine, but bitch, you’re spilling everything tomorrow.”
I just gave her a fake smile and waved. A nice long nap and a lot of water was in my future. Also probably some laundry, since our cum was all over my comforter. Maybe I’d just sleep on the couch. I sighed and headed home.