Kevin looked over at her then. This girl had issues. She was just a walking basket of issues and insecurities. In the three hours they’d been driving, he’d picked up at least…ninety. It actually sounded like the guy who’d tried to kiss her was very interested in her, she just refused to believe it. She wasn’t seeking pity or wallowing in low self-esteem. She genuinely and absolutely had no sense of self. She’d been locked away from the world for too long.
He didn’t spend too much time analyzing it, because…well, he didn’t care. He had his own shit to deal with.
They were in West Yellowstone now and he reset the GPS to look up the B&B they had selected to stay in for the night. It was almost five. She’d told him that she didn’t want to drive at night and considering his recent experience on dark roads, he hadn’t argued. They had looked up classy three-star and low-priced four-star motels and B&B’s to suit his budget, and as they pulled into the parking lot, he concluded that they’d chosen well.
Kevin carried his bags and two of hers inside and stopped at the reception desk. It looked like a home that was converted into a business. It had a cozy cabin sort of vibe, wooden floors anda rock-faced fireplace. It was owned by an elderly couple and a woman who looked to be in her early seventies, greeted them at the desk with a warm smile. “Good evening.”
“Hi. Kevin Shepard. We called earlier.”
She seemed startled by him for a few moments. Again, he blamed it on the beard. He really needed to shave.
“Ah, yes. Two single rooms?”
“Yes.”
They got their keys and paid, and Kevin started feeling antsy. All he wanted was to go to his room and have some peace and quiet in his own personal space.
“Dinner is at six-thirty,” the old lady said, handing them their keys. “Breakfast is at seven tomorrow morning. It’s a limited menu, so I hope you’re not fussy.”
Jasmin smiled. “Not at all.”
Kevin picked up four out of the five bags again and headed down the narrow, carpeted hallway to the rooms. He left her bags outside her room and quickly opened the door to his. It was small, but quaint. A clean bathroom. A single bed with crisp white sheets. He didn’t need anything more. He was just about to shut the door when he heard her voice behind him.
“Hey, Kevin, you wanna have dinner together?”
The tips for hitchhiking said that he shouldn’t be rude to the driver. So how was a nice way to say hell to the fuck no? “Um…I’d rather do…anythingelse.”
“Oh. Okay. Sure. I’ll see you tomorrow…at around seven? We might as well have breakfast before we leave.”
She appeared to be unfazed by his rudeness, but something in her eyes told him that he might’ve just dropped issue number ninety-one into her basket.
Bob:You’re right, Dan. This guy really is a dick!
“Fine. See you tomorrow, Jasmin.”
He shut the door, tossed his bags on the floor, and immediately went to the bathroom to have a shower. The warm water instantly relaxed him, soothed him. He dropped his head, allowing it to hit his neck and roll down his back. He’d wanted the solitude, but now that he was alone, he heard it. The screams that had echoed down the street that night, his screams, screams of desperation and despair.
“Perry! Perry, where are you, man?”
He pushed his head under the spray, hoping the sound of running water against his ears would drown out his cries. It didn’t work. Nothing ever worked.
He shut off the water and made a quick job of drying and dressing himself. Dragging his weary body to the other side of the small room, he dropped belly first onto the bed. He probably wouldn’t sleep, but today he was exhausted enough to give it a try. He tried to shut it out of his mind, yet even as his eyes drifted closed, the images appeared with utmost clarity.
15 years ago…
Kevin sat down at his allocated seat in Miss Woodslow’s class, staring up at the artwork plastered across the walls. Modes of transportation was the theme for the week and colorful busses, airplanes and even firetrucks were the different array of drawings his classmates had come up with. His eyes roamed over each picture, the colors keeping up the pretense that this was a happy environment. It wasn’t.
He was grinding his teeth again, willing and willing and willing the tears not to come. It was the fourth week of kindergarten and he hated school. He hated that he was too short to reach anything. He hated that Miss Woodslow gave him special attention because he was just a tad bit slower than the rest of them. And he especially hated Dennis and his stupid friends. They always called him a baby, picked on him, pushed him to the floor like he was nothing. Right now, there was dirt and little tears on his pants from when Dennis had shoved him. His knees had hit the ground first and then they crowded around him. Dennis had straddled his torso and tried to shove a pacifier in his mouth. He’d felt so helpless, it was unbearable. But he wouldn’t cry. If he cried, the teacher would call his mom again and that would just give them more reason to call him a baby.
He wouldn’t tell his mother anything. It was better to keep it to himself, because, if anything, she made him feel more incapable. He was the youngest in his family and sometimes she made him feel more like a baby than Dennis did. He wouldn’t tell anyone, not even Max. Max wouldn’t care that Dennis and his goons were six years younger than him. He’d pummel them into the ground. Dom and Shane would probably do the same. No, heneeded to keep them out of it and handle this himself. He wasn’t weak and he wouldn’t show any sign of weakness.
“Hey,” someone whispered from beside him. “Psssst!”
Kevin turned to face the other boy who was trying to get his attention.
“Here.” He slid an Oreo across his desk. “It’s my last one, but you can have it.”
There was lint on it, probably from his pocket where it’d been kept, but all it needed was a good dusting or a hard blow. “Thanks.”
