Living With Boys

Chapter Ten

By the time we get back it's almost five o'clock. We go straight to his room to watch a movie when Ashton stops us in the hall.

"What's going on here?" He asks with his arms crossed.

"What do you mean?" I ask.

"You've been sneaking around everywhere, and basically avoiding everyone else," He looks at Ryan when he says this. I look up at Ryan but he avoids my eyes. What was that?

"We're just hanging out, chill the hell out," Ryan snaps and storms into his room, slamming it behind him. I sigh and head downstairs. We had such a great day and then Ashton had to swoop by and ruin it.

"Hey Tessa," Eric says, typing something into his computer.

"Hey," I say just as Ashton enters the room. I groan and get up from the comfort of the couch. We can't be in the same room with each other without one of us screaming at each other.

"You don't have to leave," He says, sitting next to me.

"Yeah, I do."

I enter my room and see Ryan examining one of my old family photos, before my dad became an addict.

"What are you doing?" I say, snatching the picture from him. I always loved this photo. We looked like such a happy family, like the ones you'd find as the example pictures in a frame. I'm on my dads' back, with my arms wrapped around his neck, while he holds my moms hand next to us on the beach. He had said something funny that made me laugh when the picture was taken. We all had on the biggest smiles you'd ever saw. I stare at it for a good minute before slamming it down on my dresser.

I almost forgot Ryan was in the room. I wipe away the tear that had fallen down my cheek and regain control of myself. I can't cry in front of him again.

"Talk to me, Tessa," He finally says, trying to meet my eyes. I look at everything but him. I don't like when he sees me at my vulnerable state. I shake my head no and wrap my arms around myself. I didn't even realize I was shivering.

"Come here," he says, extending his arms out for me. I crash into them, his strong arms wrapping around me. He deserves to know, but I just can't. I quietly sob into his shirt, while he strokes my long hair, whispering that everything will be okay in my ear.
I finally pull away from him and sit down on my bed. He sits next to me and wipes away my tears. I feel like he does this more than he should.
"Tell me what happened, and don't say nothing, because I know there's something," He says, finally able to meet my eyes.

"Promise you won't tell anyone?"

"I promise."

I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear before starting.

"It all started when I was five, I was playing with my dolls when my dad came home from work. He was pissed and stressed at god knows what, and he came into my bedroom and threw my dolls across the room, smashing their heads off. I cried, because I was scared of this man in front of me. My mom came running in, looked at my father, my dolls, and my tear soaked face and just, left. She didn't do anything about it. She didn't comfort me or yell at my father-" I start to sob again involuntarily.

"Shh, baby it's okay, you don't have to tell me," He comforts me, pulling me into his arms.

"From that day, he'd come home drunk in the middle of the night and hit me. Most of the time it was just a slap, or a spanking. But it got worse. When I was ten, I was in the kitchen eating dinner with my mom when he came stumbling through the door, falling over his own feet. He threw our plates across the floor, breaking them and took my mom by the collar of her shirt and slammed her against the wall. He cussed at her and started touching her in front of me. She started crying and I was yelling at my father to stop, I was ever hitting his back, but he just shoved me away, continuing to rape my mother. I don't know why she never left him, she was just too scared, I guess. But every day, every freaking day he'd come home and hit me. He'd hit me over and over until there were no more tears for me to shed, no more screams for me to bear. He'd broken me. My throat would be sore every day from all the screaming, my eyes puffy from all the crying. He would just watch me with amusement and continue to drink. Sometimes my mom would even watch him hit me, and she wouldn't do anything. Not a single word escaped her lips from the first time he hit me, or threw me across the room, screaming that I wasn't good enough, or that I wasn't supposed to happen. He was finally caught with marijuana and was arrested. I would never talk to my mother. Never. She never stood up for me, so I didn't have to. She wasn't a mother to me."

"I kept telling myself over and over that I wasn't good enough, and that I never would be. I believed it too. Everyone at school saw me as the pathetic girl who would run out crying whenever someone would mention anything of their dad. I just, I couldn't-"

"I understand, you don't need to continue," He purrs gently into my ear. I nod my head, knowing that I wouldn't have been able to continue even if I wanted to. I nuzzle my face into his chest, taking him in. "I'm so sorry that happened to you, no one deserves that. No one," He says softly.

"And don't ever, I mean ever, tell yourself you're not good enough. Okay?" He says this a little louder.

"Okay," I say and lay my head back down. Before I know it, I'm drifting off to sleep.

A/N
Hey guys! I'm so sorry for the lack of updating but I've been really busy lately with school and sports, I hope you understand :). Anyway, for those of you who we're reading my other story, "Needing You," I'm sorry to tell you that I removed it. I think that managing two stories is a little overwhelming for me, and I will definitely write my other story, but for now, I want to focus on this one. So I'm sorry for removing it, but it will come back on at some point, whenever I'm far enough in that story to start publishing. Thanks for all of your support, I appreciate every single one of you :). Please vote, comment, share!