Relief flashed across Dominic’s face. “Please.”
A few minutes later, we were both in bed. By some unspoken agreement, we were lying on our sides, hands tucked under our faces as we stared at one another.
My eyes had adjusted to the darkness, allowing me to pick out Dominic’s features. The sharp lines of his jaw. The rough stubble covering his cheeks.
The slight redness at the end of his nose. His abnormally puffy eyes.
This wasn’t the Dominic I was used to seeing, and I didn’t like it. Dominic shouldn’t be sad. I wanted his lazy smirk back. The arrogant crinkle to his eyes. His easy confidence.
My leg slid forwards under the duvet until my knee was pressed against his. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t knowwhatto say. So instead, I gave him a physical reminder that I was there.
That he wasn’t alone.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, his voice hoarse. “I hate that I’m like this.”
“It’s normal to get upset, Dom.” I pressed my knee more firmly against his.
He rolled onto his back, staring at my ceiling. “My dad doesn’t think so.”
A bitter taste filled my mouth as I remembered exactly why Dom ate at our house so often. “Well your dad can take a long walk off a short cliff, as far as I’m concerned.”
“Can’t say I disagree with you there. Fucker would probably even make that my problem.”
I focused on the lines around his eyes. They shouldn’t be that deep, not on someone this young. “Is that what’s upset you tonight? Your dad?”
He nodded. Just once. “I don’t… I can’t talk about it, Shadow.”
“That’s okay.”
Dominic rolled until he was facing me again. “It’s not because it’s you. I don’t talk about this with anyone. Not even…”
His voice trailed off, but he didn’t need to finish his sentence. We both knew he was going to say Max.
I pretended I wasn’t relieved to hear it. Admitting that, even to myself, would mean looking closer at what this was. What I was feeling.
I wasn’t ready to do that.
“You don’t have to tell me anything,” I said. I meant it, too. If Dominic needed a safe space to just…be, then this room could be that for him. “You can be upset, cry, whatever you need. I won’t push you to talk about it.”
He studied me. “You really wouldn’t, would you?”
“Nope. You can just be yourself in here.”
Why was I offering him this? We weren’t friends. I didn’t know what we were, but it definitely wasn’t that.
Maybe it was because he was the only person I felt like I could be myself around. It didn’t matter if I was angry or sarcastic, reading or drawing, chatty or silent, Dominic didn’t seem to give a shit. He spent time with me regardless. Okay, so maybe we didn’t talk much outside of these four walls, but thanks to him, my life had changed.
For the better.
I realised then that I wasn’t wishing for October to arrive anymore. I wasn’t marking off time on my calendar. I wasn’t dreaming of what it would be like to have friends or be included. To not have to hide from my bullies.
Thanks to Dominic, I didn’t need to dream about it. It was my reality.
I hadn’t known how to thank him, but maybe this was how. By offering him a safe space whenever he needed it.
“Thanks,” he said finally.
“You’re welcome.”
