Chapter Seventeen – Megan
My mouth drops open, not from what he said, but because he threw it out so carelessly in front of the others – especially Braden.
Aston grins and winks at me. He turns, stretching his arms over his head as he walks in the direction of the house. I watch him go, struck into silence, and ignore Lila’s gaze burning into the side of my head.
“His last offer?” Braden says tightly, his eyes resting on me.
“He offered to teach me the difference between a slapped ass and a spanked one,” I mutter. “He’s an ass.”
“Caveman. Rein it in,” Maddie orders, tapping his cheek and standing up.
“In,” he mutters in response.
“Good. Keep it that way.” She kisses his cheek, and Ryan and Lila stand.
“I’ll see you after class, Megs.” Lila looks at me pointedly and I nod.
We sit in silence as the others disappear, and I stare into the distance. It’s the first time I’ve been alone with Braden since me and Aston, and for the first time in my life, it feels like there’s a gaping hole between us.
I know I put it there.
I also know I have to tell him. I could do it now. Without Aston here. Where there are other people around.
I open my mouth to speak, explain it, but he beats me to it.
“Where have you been lately?”
“Huh?” I look at him. “I’ve been here, at college.”
“Oh, ha ha. Very f*cking funny,” he says dryly, throwing a blade of grass at me. “No, I mean, like, San Fran. I thought you would have come with us.”
I shrug a shoulder. “I just didn’t feel like it. I had some work to catch up on, too. Papers and stuff.”
He nods. “Kyle said you dropped by Sunday morning to get one of your books.”
“Yep. You had my Shakespeare book. Again.”
“I will always have your Shakespeare book. I don’t know how to complete a paper without your scribbled on books.” He grins at me, flicking his hair away from his eyes.
“You need a hair cut,” I point out. “And I know. Ever since eighth grade you’ve copied my crap. I have no idea why I let you do it.”
“It’s because I’m f*cking brilliant and you love me.”
“And you still have the worst potty mouth of everyone I know.”
He grins again. “It’s why you love me, Megs. I’m the big brother you never had.”
“I think you’re the reason I never had a big brother,” I reply dryly, smirking. “Mom saw you dragging me into the mud to make mud pies and climbing trees, and decided an adopted son was more than enough. Let’s face it, we were always gonna be trouble.”
He clears his throat. “I’m not trouble.”
“The cat, Braden. The cat.”
“That wasn’t trouble. That was me attempting to be a gentleman.”
I smile, amused. “I’m not sure your mom thinks of it that way, even now.”
“No, I explained it to her,” he insists. “I told her it made me a gentleman for trying to give my favorite girl in the world what she wanted.” I kick his foot playfully.
“Does Maddie know this?” I tease.
“Meggy.” He looks at me seriously. “I love Maddie, but you’re my best friend. You always have been, and the only person that means more to me than Maddie is you. I love you in different ways, and Maddie knows she’ll never be you, but she gets that. Besides, you can be my favorite in a different way.”
I laugh and kick him again, shaking my head. “Is sex really all you ever think about?”
He pauses for a second, chewing his lip. “No. I just thought about food.”
“Food and sex?”
“Xbox.”
“Beer?”
“And that is why you’re my best friend.” He winks. “You get me.”
“Someone has to understand you, Bray.”
“Is Lila still sending you on those dates?”
I shake my head. “I told her after the last one, no more.”
“Were they jackasses?”
“No, I just wasn’t interested in any of them. I’m capable of picking my own love interests, you know.”
“Shouldn’t have any damn interests,” he grumbles.
I clear my throat. “Remember our conversation about this? Do we need to go to caveman-speak? Megan, big girl. Take care of self. Braden watch and shut up.”
Braden chuckles. “Does that mean no black eyes for anyone who sleeps with you?”
You owe your best friend a few. “No. No black eyes, no warnings, no demands of leaving me alone, and most definitely no caveman antics.”
“I think, as far as Maddie is concerned, all of those qualify as caveman antics as you put it.”
“I know. I was just spelling it out for you.” I shrug.
“Gee, thanks a f*ckin’ lot.” He shakes his head, standing up. I put my hand in his outstretched one, and he pulls me up. He starts to walk backwards towards the house. “I have to get to class. Get some last minute caveman antics in before anyone finds out.”
“Braden Carter!” I call after his retreating body. “Don’t you freakin’ dare!”
He stops at the door, grins, and disappears inside. I shake my head, detouring around the house and taking the route away from the campus towards the bay.
Yet again, I failed to tell him about me and Aston. A few words is all it would take, but the longer we hide it, the harder it is to find the words. The harder it is be honest.
Lying. I hate it – I hate lying to everyone about everything, because I don’t want to hide us. I don’t want to hide the way I feel about Aston. I don’t want to hide him. I just don’t want to hurt anyone and I know it will hurt Braden.
But the longer I keep it, the more it will hurt him.
The breeze from the water drifts over me, chilling me, and I tug my sweater around my body tighter. My hair flies into my face and I push it away in vain.
Games. They’re all good until someone gets hurt. Braden and Maddie’s games were all good until they got hurt and both acted irrationally – him by walking away and her by running. Mine and Aston’s games are all good until it gets out, which it will.
The truth always comes out.
I could walk away now. I could speak to Aston and tell him it’s done, I can’t do it anymore, but I’d still be lying then. I’d be lying because I can, because it’s not done.
Lies. They’re easy to keep track of until they begin spiraling and you begin spinning a web of them, too easy to get caught up in. Lies are all good until you look at who you’re lying to.
The question is, is it better or worse to lie to yourself over your best friend?
~
“That was awkward today,” Lila comments as she enters the room.
I look up from my book. “Welcome to my world.”
“A world you created.”
“Your tact amazes me,” I say dryly. “Really, Li, just remind me. It doesn’t play on my mind or anything. Nope, I’m totally oblivious to it.”
“I don’t get why you don’t just admit it.”
“No one asked?” I try, shrugging. “I wish I knew, I really do. It’s not as simple as it looks from the outside. You see it as a simple secret, something hidden for a simple reason. Simple. And it’s not. It’s not just boy meets girl and they fall in love. Its boy meets girl and all hell breaks loose, in his head and in reality.”
“So you’re telling me that Aston’s head is stopping you being honest?” She raises an eyebrow in disbelief, and I shut my book, laying it to rest on the bed next to me.
“You don’t know him. You think you do – you all think you do, but you don’t. To you he’s just a girl-using, thinks-with-his-dick a*shole to be avoided by anyone with any sense. I know different. I know he’s not what he seems, and I know that what he seems is nothing more than an act to hide who he really is.”
“Okay.” She settles on the bed. “I don’t know either way, so let’s go with what you said. When does your pretending become reality? When does your act end, Megs?”
I sigh and lean back against the wall. “I have no idea. I tried to tell Braden earlier – no, I did. Maybe not hard enough, but I tried. The words just wouldn’t come. I kept thinking about how he’d look when he found out I’d lied to him.”
“Doesn’t matter when he finds out. He isn’t gonna look any happier if he finds out today or next year.”
“I just don’t know how much longer I can hide it. It makes everything so hard. I need to help Aston, Lila, but having everything secret means I can’t always be there and that hurts,” I finish quietly. “I can see when he needs me and it hurts so damn bad.”
She shrugs. “I know now. I can help. Keep everyone away from here or make excuses for you, back you up.”
“I swear you were just telling me I needed to tell Braden.”
“And you do.” She sighs. “But it’s clear you won’t – or can’t,” she corrects at my annoyed look. “So I might as well help you. God help me because I will be killed when this all comes out, but at least I can feel like I’m keeping this secret for a reason.”
“You don’t have to do anything. I got myself into this mess. I just need to figure out to help Aston, and then maybe everything else will just… Fall into place.” I run my fingers through my hair, sighing deeply. “Maybe. Hopefully.”
“Until everything falls into place, I’ll help you. I’ll make it so you can talk to Aston. I don’t see it myself, I’m not gonna lie, but you care about him and I care about you so whatever.”
I look at her for a second, taking in her honest expression, and smile slightly. “You’re the best friend.”
“Or the stupidest, when Braden finds out,” she mutters and heads towards the bedroom.
“Li?” I ask. “You’re not gonna tell him, are you?”
She stops at the bathroom door and looks at me over her shoulder. “I may not agree with you keeping it quiet, and I may not like the fact I know, but that doesn’t mean I’m gonna tell him, Megs. I don’t like your decision, but I respect it.”
“Thank you.”
“Besides,” she continues. “If I tell him he’ll kick my ass, and I’m the innocent one.”
“There I was thinking you were doing it out the goodness of your heart!”
“No way.” She grins. “I’m protecting my ass – and you make sure Aston knows about this so I can call in a favor in the future.” She winks and I laugh, reaching for my phone.
Lila knows, I send to Aston.
What the f*ck? How?
She guessed. It’s not a total lie…
And?
And nothing. She’s not gonna say anything. She’ll cover for us.
I don’t like this, Megs.
Neither do I, but it’s either she covers or we tell Braden.
Let’s stick with Lila for now.
We need to talk.
About?
You.
~
I sink into Aston’s arms, sliding my hands under his shirt and flattening them against his back. His lips come down on mine firmly, my bottom lip being sucked between his gently.
“What’s Lila doing?” he murmurs.
“Lila took the others to crazy golf.” I shrug, looking up at him. “Don’t ask me. She kicked up a fuss to Ryan.”
“Lila hates crazy golf. In fact, she hates any kind of sport.”
“I know.” I shrug again. “She said you owe her.”
“Figures.” He sighs and runs his fingers through my hair to the ends, kissing the end of my nose. “So tell me. What do we really need to talk about? “You” isn’t exactly informative.”
I tug him towards the bed and he sits down against the wall. I sit on his lap, locking my hands behind his neck, and his hands rest on my bed, his fingers drawing tiny circles.
“You. Everything. There’s more, Aston. I know there is.”
His stomach tenses. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything,” I whisper. “Everything that’s left. However long it takes, however much it hurts… I’m here.”
His chest heaves as he takes a deep breath, his eyes filling with apprehension and a spark of fear. I’ve never thought of him as being scared of his past, of what he hasn’t let himself think about, but he is. He’s petrified.
“There isn’t much left to tell, not about when I was a kid. It was the same thing over and over. Mom would sell herself for money, spend a minimal amount of it on food and bills if she could be bothered, then the rest on drugs and alcohol. She’d meet a guy, he’d watch me while she “worked,” and I’d usually get a bruise to add to my collection for something or another. Social Services would visit, the guy would leave, and she’d meet someone else, every other night going out and f*cking some poor rich guy so she could keep putting the same old shit into her veins. That was it for six years. I’m glad I can only remember two years of it, even if they are the worst years.”
His fingertips dig into my skin slightly, and I twist his hair around my fingers gently, looking at him intently.
“She couldn’t parent. She didn’t know how to. I was always an afterthought – and everything was blamed on me. She blamed it on me, the guys blamed it on me, and when you get taught everything is your fault, you start to believe it. Every cut or bruise was explained as me being a rough little boy to the social, and every cut of bruise was explained as me being a little no-good bastard to me. That was their reasoning. That I was good for nothing, no better than my mom.” He pauses for a second, breathing harshly. I move my hands to cup his face and rest my forehead against his, letting him calm down even as my own stomach twists. “That’s what I remember most, the things they said to me. It’s like they enjoyed hurting me with words as much as they did with their fists, because it was all the time. I remember them always telling me I’d be no better than her, and that was all she was good for, so it would be all I was good for. Sex and drugs and alcohol – they said that was my life, and it would have been true. She never sent me to school because of the bruises, so eventually I would have ended up the same way if she hadn’t of died.”
“How did she die?”
“Drugs. What else?” He shrugs a shoulder, moving his arms so they wrap my body. “The official report states it was from an overdose of a bad batch of heroine. The drug had been tampered with, making it even more dangerous, and she accidentally overdosed. They reckon she’d been going through withdrawals and in her confused, desperate state, she used more than she normally would have. She was found three blocks away from our apartment at a seedy bar, and I was found at home a day later. That’s what Gramps said, anyway. I remember it all as just one blur of time. Day and night were the same to me then. Day, Mom was asleep, and at night, she was out. I was left alone most of the time – except for a once weekly outing to the park to keep up appearances. That was the one day she cared about me.”
His voice is so broken, so small, so lost. It’s like he’s regressed back into the mind of the six-year old he was, seeing the world through his eyes again. I look at him, look into his sad eyes, and my heart clenches as a tear spills from his eye. I’ve seen him angry, seen him fight the demons, but this?
This breaks my heart.
Seeing him cry is worse than I ever could have imagined.