The Scars She Hides

Part 14 - Ugly Truths

CHARLOTTE

"It's my turn."

Holden didn't move for a long moment, and then eventually nodded his head slowly. He saved his work and gently shut the laptop. He then turned in his chair so that he was facing me, giving me his full attention.

That was another thing about Holden. He didn't do things by halves. If he was writing his paper, he was only writing. He wasn't eating or drinking or stopping to gather his thoughts, he was writing. When he was working on his project, he worked in complete silence, no music to distract him, his phone was on silent, and there was absolutely no interrupting him for conversation.

The same applied to his attention. When I was talking, Holden's attention was 100% on me. His eyes never strayed, his body faced me, like he was committed to every word that came out of my mouth.

I wasn't sure if that level of attention was a good or bad thing right now.

I studied our knees, stalling for time a bit. They were not touching, but they were close. Even though I had placed my chair a good distance away from Holden's, his legs were so much longer than mine, that it hardly made a difference once he turned to face me.

Thinking about it now, Holden really was so much larger than me. I was a pretty good height for a girl, taking after my mom and naturally towering over the rest of my female classmates. But despite this, Holden still dwarfed me by quite a bit. That coupled with his award winning attitude made him an absolute horror at first impression.

But...

He had been kind to me, in his own gruff way.

His own way being - force feeding me protein bars and making me wear his bike helmet even though I leave it "smelling like girly shit". Or more importantly... respecting the unsaid boundaries I had laid out between us.

Holden said we were friends. And we traded truths now.

I sat a bit straighter in my chair. I was stalling, and I knew it. I could go over every attribute of Holden in my mind right now, and list his pros and cons as a person, as long as it would give me an extra second to consider backing out of this truth.

Despite my positive reasoning, my fingers were still clammy with sweat. I kept my eyes trained on Holden's' knees in front of me, too scared to look at his face. Even being fall in Arizona, it was still a glorious 90 degrees on some odd days. I had started to wear tank tops under my sweatshirt, finally conceding that the heat was too much for me.

I slowly pulled my arms from my sleeves, and prepared to lift the sweatshirt over my head.

You never really think of how awkward it is to take a jacket off until you are doing it in slow motion under someone's intense stare.

It's awkward. Finger-curling cringe worthy actually.

I could feel the embarrassment burn in my cheeks, no doubt they were blazing red right now. Holden was probably laughing. He was probably uncomfortable. Why was this high school kid taking her clothes off in front of him? In a locked room. Wasn't this some form of sexual harrassment? What was he thinking? Was he watching? Panic made me glance up at Holden, I was helpless to stop it.

His eyes were closed. He was waiting.

Any and all panicked thoughts dissolved into nothing in my mind. It was replaced by a calm feeling that could only be described as warmth. Like coffee... like Holden's eyes.

This was Holden. This was my friend.

I easily peeled off the remaining pieces of the jacket, and folded it into my lap. My arms are on full display, the AC blowing softly over my clammy skin. I swept my own eyes over the exposed skin. Shame steadily ate away at that warm calm I had found.

You deserve it.

You deserve it.

You deserve it.

I traced my fingers up the bumpy skin on my arm, hearing only those awful words. Hot breath in my ear from an even more awful man. From a ghost. They were so ugly. All of my scars that marred the skin on my arms and shoulders. Why had I thought this was a good truth to share? How did this compare to the memory of his birth mom? His Foster mom? This wasn't good enough. It was a bad secret. An ugly secret.

Ugly.

Ugly.

Ugly.

Ruined.

Bad.

Shameful.

Ugly.

I deserved -

"Charlotte?" Holden asked quietly, pulling me from the spiralling mess that I had gotten lost in. Holden's eyes were still shut, but I could see his eyelashes twitching against his cheek. He was nervous too. No doubt my long silence had made him anxious, just sitting there with his eyes closed. I took a quivering breath. I could back out now, and Holden would let me. He wouldn't say a thing about this, and we could go on with our evening.

But then I would have broken the rules. The game would end.

Another breath.

Did I want to keep my ugly truths more than I wanted to keep my friend?

I closed my eyes, squeezing them tight so I couldn't see Holden's face, couldn't see his hands resting on his legs, his knees. I reached out to pinch the fabric of his jeans. Not quite touching him, but holding on to him with enough strength to ground myself.

I felt like I was on the back of his bike for the first time. The thrill of the bike itself, and the whipping air around us was amazing, but scary. I needed something to hold onto, something to ground myself. I had held onto Holden's shirt that day, clinging to him as much as I could without grabbing him.

I felt Holden's leg twitch at the feeling of my hand pulling on his jeans. He didn't move away.

"Ok." I gave him permission to open his eyes.

Because Holden was my friend.