Chapter 13

Darryl Nelson

When Stevie had shown up in my bedroom, I was unexpectedly torn between wanting her there and wanting to tell her to fuck off.

My head was still fucked up after the bender I’d been on, and my stomach and throat were raw from having my stomach pumped; all I wanted to do was wallow in my misery. Alone.

But Stevie annoyingly inserted herself into my pity party. She had always been innately in tune with my moods, even when we were little kids, sometimes knowing what I wanted—or needed—before I really did.

She had put on her favorite movie, ~The Nightmare Before Christmas~, and before the opening sequence was finished, she had made herself comfortable on my bed next to me. I was acutely aware of the proximity of her body to mine.

My dick was painfully aware of how close to being naked I was, lying in just my underwear next to her.

The end credits start to roll, and I glance down at her, finding her fast asleep next to me. With her face relaxed in slumber, I realize how stressed she actually looked when she was awake. How had I not noticed that before?

I scan her prone form, wondering—not for the first time—where her tattoo was located. I had half an idea that it was on her hip somewhere as she was habitually clothed in high-waisted shorts or skirts.

Sliding down slightly, I bend my arm, propping my head up on my hand, and with a finger gently push back her hair which is lying over her chest, which hitches slightly at my touch, betraying that she’s awake.

My eyes flick up to meet hers, and I slowly, lightly, run my fingertip up her collarbone, up her neck, and trace over her lips, which part with a soft inhale of breath and her eyes flutter open.

I swallow, my dick straining once again against the cotton of my boxer briefs, and I start to lean down to her obvious invitation, but the bitter taste of betrayal coats the back of my tongue and I draw back with a cruel smirk as I watch disbelief and disappointment cross her face.

“Did you really think I would kiss you?” I sneer, hating the sight of tears welling up in her distinctive eyes, but needing to push her far away from me where she can’t possibly have the power to hurt me again.

“No fucking way would I put my mouth on you, Stephanie.”

With cheeks blazing with embarrassment, Stevie silently scrambles out from underneath me and grabs her handbag, slamming the door behind her.

With a deep sigh, I lie back down on my bed, running my hands up my face and into my hair. There’s a tentative knock on my door, and I roll my eyes.

“Come in, Vinnie.” My little brother pushes the door open and pokes his head round, his deep blue doe eyes wide as he looks at me. “Is Stevie okay?” he asks, his voice soft as ever.

“Yeah…I’m just a dick, is all.” I throw my comforter off and stand, stretching my arms above my head. “Nothing new there, right?”

Vinnie steps inside my room a little more, and I am warmed a little by the sight of him wearing my old t-shirt. “Are…are you going to leave me again, Darryl?” His voice is barely a whisper, but I can hear the anguish as clear as a fucking bell.

“Mom was crying like her heart was broken…it was just like before. And they wouldn’t tell me what was going on.” His chin wobbles as his eyes fill with tears, and I stride over to him, pulling him into a tight hug.

I’d put my sweet little brother through so much darkness in the last couple of years—it was easy to forget he suffered when I suffered.

“Fuck…I’m sorry, little man. I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” Here’s hoping I mean that this time.

***

School was mundane at fucking best. The rumors were still swirling about my week off school, and my weekly visits to Dr. Greene. Smit accepted me back without questions, which I was grateful for.

Stevie was resolute in her avoidance of me. Which in turn made me want to fuck with her a little bit.

The few classes we had together, I started sitting next to her or behind her, the stiffness in her demeanor showing that she was all too aware of my proximity, yet she didn’t once glance my way.

Trying to provoke something in her, I start flirting with a girl who sits on the other side of Stevie, meaning we’re talking across her.

Every saccharine giggle from the blonde cheerleader made Stevie’s jaw tick, every chuckle I forced out made her fists clench. That’s a win in my book. Making her feel like shit was officially becoming my favorite pastime.

“Hey, man,” Smit starts, dropping into the chair next to mine in the cafeteria, his tray clattering on the table, almost losing his slice of pizza in the process. “There’s a party on Friday night and we are going.”

I slowly chew my tasteless pasta thing I’d picked up, keeping my eyes trained on Stevie as she effortlessly chats with a group of AV nerds. “Yeah…nah. I’m busy Friday.”

“Doing what?” Smit follows my gaze, and snorts. “If you’re thinking you’re gonna snag a date with Stevie McGabe, you’ve got another thing coming.”

I turn my head to look at him, frowning. I definitely hadn’t been thinking of dating Stevie, but I didn’t want to tell Smit about what I was really planning to do. “Why?”

“She doesn’t date,” he shrugs nonchalantly, filling his face with food. “What do you mean she doesn’t date?” I question, watching her again as she leaves panting nerds in her wake, giving the head QB a hug, laughing and blushing at something he says.

“Just that…she doesn’t date. Never has.” He watches her for a moment. “I mean, it’s not like she’s hurting for offers or anything, she just doesn’t seem interested. Even a few of the girls have tried to shoot their shot but she politely declined.”

Huh. From the outside, she’s really popular; known by everyone, head cheerleader, brainy. But the more I think about it, the only person she seems to spend actual one-on-one time with is that weird girl Smit has a crush on—Rhea something. “She’ll be there on Friday.”

I turn my head back towards Smit, who is grinning at me. “Well, I guess I could be persuaded to make an appearance, then.”