Fourteen by C.M. Smith (short story to read .txt) 📕

“Anna?”

I jumped as I heard a voice that clearly did not belong to my dad and turned to face the door. His profile was visible from the streetlights outside my window, and I tensed.

“What?” I managed to say, my voice rough and my throat raw. “How’d you get in here?”

“Your father let me in.”

Huh. He was home. Glad he came up to see if I was all right.

“What do you want?” I curled up even tighter under my comforter and stared blankly ahead.

“I wanted to see if you were all right.”

I looked up when I heard the floorboards creaking underneath his weight as he walked over to me. I kept my eyes on his dark figure as he lowered himself to the floor, resting his arms on the edge of my bed and placing his chin on his hands.

“I’m fine.”

“It shows,” he said.

I stared at him, his face partially hidden in shadows.

“I would’ve been here earlier,” he said after a few moments of silence, “but coach kept us later for practice because it was a Friday.”

“Did you have anything to do with it?”

“No!” he exclaimed. “No . . . ,” he repeated, quieter.

We once again sat in silence. “Who was it, Evan?” I whispered.

He sighed heavily and tilted his head to the side. I huffed, closing my eyes as he reached out to rub his thumb over my cheek.

“Brittany and Grace,” he whispered back.

“Why?”

“Because of me.” He pushed his hand back and into my hair, his thumb still stroking my cheek. “I’m sorry, Anna.”

I closed my eyes when I felt them water again and turned to bury my face back into my pillow. He slid his hand to the back of my head, his fingers still tangled in my hair, and I did my best to keep my emotions under control.

It was bad enough that he’d caught me in my room, sitting in the dark and moaning over my bad day. It would be even worse if he saw me cry.

He kept his hand in my hair, gently scratching the back of my head as I did my best to either smother myself or calm myself down. I hadn’t quite figured out which I wanted to do more.

“What do you say to dinner or something?” he asked after a while.

I turned my head and his hand fell out of my hair and away from me. I looked over at him through blurry eyes.

“Is this guilt?” I asked, my voice shaking.

“Part of it,” he said. “I said I wouldn’t let this happen, and it did.”

“What’s the other part?”

“The other part is that my new friend needs a friend and I’m . . .” He exhaled, placed his hand on my back. “I’m here for you.”

“This isn’t just another way to humiliate me somehow?”

“No.”

I stared at him, and he caressed my back.

“I’m not really hungry.”

“How about we go see a movie then?”

“It’s a Friday night. Don’t you have plans?”

“I did, but I don’t anymore.”

“With Brittany?”

“Yeah.”

“Evan—”

“A few days ago I wouldn’t have thought anything about this,” he admitted, still scratching my back. “I probably would’ve laughed, said you deserved it, and never would’ve given it another thought.”

I gasped and buried my face back into my pillow.

“A few days ago, I wouldn’t have thought about how this would have made you feel because it didn’t matter to me. A few days ago, I didn’t know you.”

“You don’t know me now,” I said.

“I’m trying to. And I was hoping that you were trying to know me, too.”

Looking over at him, I flicked on the lamp on my bedside table, hissing when the sudden invasion of light hit my eyes. He grunted and rubbed his eyes as I propped myself up on my elbows and stared at my headboard.

“Can I ask you a question?” I glanced at him.

“Yeah.”

“You . . . hated me a few days ago. How did that change so quickly?”

“I never really hated you, Anna. I just didn’t think about anyone’s life but my own. I never gave much thought to anyone that wasn’t in my circle, and I didn’t think about what happened once everyone went home for the day. It’s like I . . . I separated it, I guess. My home life is different from my school life, and I just thought that everyone else did the same thing.”

He stared at me with something very close to a pout on his face.

“Words are powerful weapons, Evan.”

He looked away and reached up again, sliding his hand underneath my pillow. He grabbed my hand, pulling it out into the light and turning my wrist to look at the yellowish bruises that were still on my skin.

“I know that now.” He shifted, rising up and gently covering my wrist with his other hand. “I’m trying to make it right.”

“I’m really trying to believe you.” I looked down at our hands. “But it’s going to take more than a few days for me to trust you when I’ve got years of hurt piled up.”

“I know that,” he said. “I’m just asking for that chance, Anna. You said that I had it.”

“You do.”

“So come out with me tonight. We can go see a movie, and if you’re hungry after that, we’ll go out to dinner. It’s a start, right? We need a start.”

I stared down at him. He squeezed my hand, stood up, and then helped me off my bed. Then, without warning, he wrapped me in his arms and buried his nose in my neck. I stood stiffly against him, staring over his shoulder at my wall in shock.

“I really don’t deserve it. Thank you.”

“S-sure.” I stepped away from him.

“Will your father mind?”

“I didn’t even know that he was home before you told me he let you in.”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

I pulled on the hem of my sweater, nervously looking around my bedroom, and for the first time, I realized that Evan Drake was in my bedroom. The clutter and the drawings I’d had taped