The Boy Next Door

Chapter Twenty-Seven

"I can't believe you lost," Alex mocked, snickering as she looked at Kyle, who was strangely quiet. "So much for the king of chicken fight."

He shrugged his shoulders, wrapped his hand around the bottle in his hand tightly, sank lower in the camping chair and lifted his eyes to me. "I let her win," he mumbled. "It's the least a gentleman can do."

"You a gentleman?" Alex howled. "That's rich."

"Think what you like, Alex," he huffed, moving closer to the bonfire.

After a long time in the water, my bones were frozen to the core, and my nose pounded. If Mum weren't going to kill me for piercing it, she was sure as hell going to for getting it infected. Harley had given me some antiseptic, and Alex insisted chilling by a bonfire would help ease the pain. I was the first to jump at the chance to roast marshmallows, providing that no singing was required. And when Kyle came over and sat with us, I was slightly surprised. And, despite his presence, I sat, slumped in the chair, warm, at ease, and dry.

"Ashley, we're going in the tent. Are you coming?" Emily said as they stood, yawning. I looked up at her and nodded.

"I'll nip to the bathroom, then be there," I said as I rose to my feet.

I glanced at Kyle, sitting alone, and part of me wanted to stay, though I knew I shouldn't, perhaps more so for my own sake than for Olly's.

His head was leaning comfortably against the neck of the chair, and his eyes were closed. I was unsure if he was asleep, so I said nothing.

Quietly walking past him, he exhaled profoundly, "I'm sorry about what I said at Lewis's," he mumbled. His eyes were still shut, and his hands were tucked under his armpits as they firmly crossed his body, "I was out of order and didn't mean it."

I swallowed hard, replaying the abuse he gave me and inhaled as my chest tightened, "It's okay; forget about it."

Kyle fluttered his long, dark eyelashes open and glared up at me. His misty, alluring stare swallowed me whole, taking any following words. He relaxed his arms and reached for my hand, fiddling with my fingers as I lost all sense of reason, "No, I can't; you didn't deserve it."

His clutch grew tighter, and he tugged me closer, nodding his head to the chair beside him. I looked to the tent across the garden, then at him, and the mystery in front of me won.

I sat down, unsure, and for a moment, nothing but silence surrounded us.

"Why did you do it?" he gently asked, and I knew what he was referring to without saying the words.

I hadn't spoken to anyone, not Mum, Dad, Olly, or the GP, about it. But then again, no one had point-blank asked me the question like Kyle did. I didn't know him; he was a stranger to me, and considering the constant warnings, I felt like I could talk to him about anything. It came easily; he seemed somewhat familiar and unnervingly trusting.

I crossed my fingers over one another, twiddling with them and looked away. "I don't know," I quietly said. "I thought it would take away my problems. I hated school. I hated being invisible, laughed at, and different. I got to the point where I was fed up with not being good enough and thought, seeing as no one would notice, I wouldn't be missed." My emotions choked me; the backs of my eyes were pinched by forming tears, and I was trying my hardest not to look at Kyle, who I sensed was burning me with his gaze. My throat bobbed as I gripped the chair tightly, scratching my nails along the fabric.

"Is that really what you believe?" he said softly, moving his chair closer to mine before grabbing my hand.

My eyes lifted to his, and how he looked at me was like nothing I had seen before, a rarity. His gaze was almost delicate, gentle, and safe, and so was his slight smile, which creased his cheek. It enhanced a scar embedded in it, and I wanted to know how he got it; I wanted to know how he got all of them. He was covered in secrecy and an untold story.