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“I can hear that.” He laughs, and I turn beet red. “It’s cute.” Bryce flashes me his panty dropping smile. His voice turns quiet. “You hanging in there?”
“I should ask you that.”
Bryce shakes his head. “I’m fine. Just worried about you. I could sense you getting upset. Want to talk about it?” He tilts his head at the bay window that points towards the backyard.
“Not out there. If they see us, they’ll come.” Laughing, I point to the stairs that are right off the dining room that lead to the second floor. “We can talk up in my old room.”
“You are taking me to your room? Are you allowed to bring boys to your room? Do we have to leave the door open?” Bryce asks, winking at me.
“Shut up and let’s go.” I take him by the hand and drag him upstairs.
“Wow. This room’s not much different from your apartment. Minus the missing gaming consoles.” Bryce says when he walks into my childhood bedroom.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I furrow my brows at him.
“Nothing. It’s you. All these books and gaming posters; this makes me feel like I’m back at your apartment. And I like that. This is all you, and there is nothing wrong with that.” He hip bumps me and walks over to the bed before sitting down on it.
It’s a little weird being back in this room. The gray painted walls, the twin bed, and my old dresser with black nail polish stains on it, brings me back to dark time in my life. This was my safe space, my hiding spot when I was younger. Much like my apartment is to me now. It might be why my apartment looks similar to this room, down to the miss-matched furniture. I walk over to the bookcase and pick up my Edgar Allen Poe collection book, running my hand over it. The pages are worn from years of reading these stories and poems over and over.
“So, you want to tell me what that was all about down there? What got you all upset?” He reaches for my hand and pulls me down to sit next to him.
“It’s a lot to talk about, and I’m not sure you would enjoy hearing it.” I pull my knees up to my chest. Bryce places a hand on my leg.
“Kitty Kat, I am always here to listen. So, just tell me.” His eyes soften as he rubs my thigh.
I exhale and prepare to revisit a memory I would rather keep locked away.
That’s the thing about Bryce. He seems to make me comfortable enough to unlock my secrets, my pain. I just worry that one day it will be too much. That he’ll realize I’m so messed up from it all.
“Remember how I told you the kids made fun of me on the camp trip?” I begin, and Bryce nods. “Well, that stuff followed me to high school. Kids called me names, made fun of me. No one ever wanted to date me or be a genuine friend to me. I had no one. I was an outcast. So, with school functions, I just didn’t go.”
Bryce props himself up on the headboard and pulls me into him. He wraps his arm around me and rubs my back in a soothing manner.
“It was my sophomore year. There was this kid who was always quiet but hung around the popular kids. He never took part in any of the pranks or said anything mean to me, but he still was friends with them. I held them all at arm’s length. It was a few weeks before homecoming and he came to me to apologize for what his friends were doing. All the torment and bullying. He said he begged them to stop, but they just wouldn’t. So he said he had an idea that could make them possibly stop. Let him take me to homecoming.”
I stop for a moment. Emotions began clamping down on my chest. They feel like weights, making it hard to breathe.
“I hesitated to go, but he had convinced me eventually that he was serious. I was gullible. So, I got a beautiful dress for homecoming. A long, beautiful pink dress. I got my hair done and my sister did my makeup. The guy came and picked me up, and we drove to the dance. When we got there, he said he had to go to the bathroom and then he left. I stood off to the side by myself for most of the dance. The guy never came back, and I didn’t know where he went off to. It’s not as if I had friends to hang out with.”
I stop to wipe the tears that have fallen on my cheeks.
“Towards the end, maybe three quarters of the way through, they were calling the homecoming king, queen, prince and princess. Now, I was a sophomore, so none of this really interested me. That is until I heard my name called for the queen title. I knew something wasn’t right. I had this sick feeling in my stomach. They called me again to come up to the stage, and people turned and looked at me. I was all the way in the back, but I made my way up to the stage. Everyone’s eyes were on me. I remember shaking so bad, waiting for someone to say something or tell me it was a joke. But that wasn’t what they did.
“As I made my way through the crowd, someone tripped me, and I fell flat on my face. I started bleeding out of my nose, so I stood up and went to walk away before someone stepped on my dress and ripped it open, exposing my backside. My dress was torn and covered in blood, and people stood there laughing at me. Teachers were trying to gain control of everyone, but there was nothing they could do. I ran. Gathered up my dress and ran. I didn’t even stop to clean up. I just took off and found a payphone to call my sister to come get me. My parents never knew what happened. The full story, at least. They just think the guy ditched me at the dance.”
“Did the school punish those who did it?” Bryce growls, his face growing dark.
“No. No one came forward, and everyone who admitted they saw something said they didn’t see who and that it looked like an accident.” I leaned into Bryce a little more, taking a deep breath. He responded by holding me tighter in a protective hold.
“I take it that the bullying didn’t stop there.”
“No, it got worse. I became a hermit. Even though I went to school but also did what I could to hide in plain sight. I ate lunch in one of the empty classrooms, I spent study periods in the library hiding behind books. Whatever I could do to hide, I did. I … I don’t really want to get into anything else that happened right now.”
“Okay, we don’t have to.” He rests his chin on my head and we sat there in comfortable silence. I’m not sure how long we sat like that, but it’s nice to at least share that part of my past with someone.
Since I’ve known Bryce, he’s helped to bring me out of my shell a bit. He knocks down my walls and lets me expose my past with no judgement. With him, right now as we are, I feel safe, not judged.
We drive back home, and he walks me to my door and gives me a tight hug. The hug isn’t a friendly hug, it’s intimate, and my breathing hitches while the butterflies in my stomach decide to start doing summersaults. He leans in and kisses my forehead, with his lips lingering on me for a beat longer than normal.