Right, cause it’s always my fault.
“Dad, she didn’t-”
“Save it Chris. I know you wouldn’t normally do this, I know it’s only becauseshe’saround.” He says the word she like I’m some monster, like I’ve ruined his perfect son. “You aren’t even old enough to drink Claire, do you know what would happen if someone were to find out that my daughter is underage drinking at a formal event?”
“I’m about to be twenty-one” I mutter, “and they’d probably see we aren’t perfect.”
“Excuse me, what did you just say?” He growls.
Craig clears his throat and my dad instantly backs down, walking out of the room before he has the opportunity to show people who he really is.
* * *
I stumble my way into the house, giggling and drunk off my ass. Everyone is in the living room, watching me struggle to take my shoes off.
Miller rushes over to help me, “thank you Miller. You know I really like you?” I sigh.
“I know Claire bear” he replies, wrapping an arm around my waist and helping me into the living room.
Steph eyes me hesitantly, “so how was it?”
“Oh you know, mom was a bitch, dad lost it, and I got drunk with tweedledum and tweedledee.”
Everyone's eyes go wide, except Steph. Unfortunately, she knows how these things go. She knows that this is the norm.
“Relax” I grumble to the others, “it’s fine. Mom’s always like that, and so is dad. Nothing new here.” I giggle and point to myself, always a mess, always cleaning up other people's messes, always dealing with the cruel reality that my parents don’t love me like they should.
“Okay, I think you and I are going to go upstairs to bed now” Lucas says, grabbing my hand and leading me towards the stairs.
All I can think about doing is kissing him. I dream of what he tastes like, what his lips would feel like against mine, what he would do… but I’m brought back to reality when he sits me down on my bed and tells me to stay put.
Lucas lets go of my hand, and it leaves me feeling cold, I don’t want him to let go. He comes back from my bathroom with my makeup remover, and kneels in front of me, slowly wiping across my hot skin.
“You need to get changed,” he whispers.
“I need help,” I pout.
He sighs before standing back up and grabbing me a change of clothes, “stand up.” His breath fans my face, sending goosebumps racing along my spine. When I finally stand he slowly unzips my dress, letting it drop to the floor before kneeling in front of me again and guiding my feet into my sweatpants. His fingers graze my legs as he pulls them up, his breath hitches when he gets to my upper thighs, staring at the dark scars on my hip. His fingers pass over them, reminding me of all the pain I went through.
“What are these?” he asks quietly.
“Scars.”
“From what?” His question isn’t really a question, I can tell he knows the answer.
“I think you know” I say breathless as his fingers graze over the spot again.
“You’re always so happy though.”
“Not everyone is as happy as they seem.”
Lucas pulls my pants up the rest of the way, then quickly slides my shirt over my head. He sets me down and pulls the covers over me, and when he goes to walk away, I stop him.
“Please don’t tell the others” I beg.
“Your secret is safe with me, pretty girl.”
I pull him towards me and he lays down, stiff for a moment before finally relaxing and letting me curl up next to him. I just need someone –anyone– to hold me and help me remember that I’m safe.
