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

didn’t understand any of it, especially since he’d seemed so embarrassed and almost guilty about if afterward.

I sighed heavily and crossed my arms over my chest, aware of him walking beside me as we rounded the corner and started toward my locker. When we got there, he stood behind me as if he were standing guard.

“Don’t you need your books?” I turned to look at him.

“Study hall.”

“You didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“What?”

“That.” I pointed toward the cafeteria, waving my hand around in emphasis.

“I wanted to.”

“And you regretted it.”

“Excuse me?”

“You just . . .” I huffed in frustration and turned away from him, grabbing my books and slamming my locker door closed. “You seemed like you . . . you can tell me the truth, Evan.”

“Anna, the only thing I’ve got left right now is you.” He grabbed my shoulders, and I flinched. He immediately dropped his hands. “It was just a . . . a thank you, I guess.”

“For what?” I asked.

“For giving me another chance.” He dropped his hands to his sides. “For sticking with me today.”

I raised my hand, ready to place it on his cheek before I snatched it back and wrapped my arms around my books.

“I told you I would.”

He looked up at me, a piece of hair falling into his face. “Seeing is believing.”

“Tell me about it.”

His mouth twitched. “I’ll see you after practice.”

“I’ll be there.”

“You’d better be.”

I chuckled and he grinned, leaning in and kissing my cheek before I had time to react. He was awfully good at that.

“See you,” he whispered before striding off down the hallway with his hands shoved in his pockets.

I watched him until the bell rang and then took off in the direction of my economics class. Well, I knew today would be interesting.

That night Evan came over, and when I opened the door, I was stunned by his appearance. He had a black eye, a split lip, a cut on his cheek, and a bandage on his chin. He looked like he wanted to punch something.

“What . . . ?”

“Don’t,” he said, taking a step toward me.

I moved out of the way to let him in, upset when I saw the slight limp in his step.

“Evan.”

“I’m not talking about it.”

“You can’t—”

“Anna,” he snapped, turning and wincing. “I’m fine.”

“It shows,” I said sarcastically, finally closing the door.

“It’s practice. What did you really expect?”

“You’ve never come over looking like this before!”

“Yeah, well . . .”

He mumbled something under his breath as he hobbled his way toward the kitchen. I followed him, listening as he took a sharp breath and fell into one of the chairs at the table. He shouldered off his backpack and dropped it to the floor, muttering something else that I couldn’t hear.

“Do you want something for your eye?” I asked, fidgeting.

“Ice would be great.” He sighed, leaning his elbow on the table and placing his forehead in his palm.

I walked over to the freezer and grabbed the same ice pack I’d used for my wrist, wrapping it in a paper towel before handing it to him. I sat down in the chair next to him and rested my arms on the table as he pressed the pack against his eye. He hissed in pain, and I cringed.

“Was it—”

“Not talking about it,” he interrupted, holding up his hand.

“It was because of me,” I whispered.

He didn’t say anything and confirmed my suspicions. If I hadn’t felt bad before, his silence made me feel ten times worse.

“Let’s just do our homework so that this day can be over with.” He shifted uncomfortably and dropped the ice pack to grab his bag. “I need this day to be over with.”

I stood and grabbed my bag from the front hallway.

It’s funny how things can change in a matter of days. I never would’ve imagined that Evan Drake would give up his popularity and damage his reputation because of someone like me.

I walked back into the kitchen and dropped my bag on the floor by his chair. Carefully, I placed my hands on his shoulders and leaned down to kiss the top of his head, his hair tickling my nose and making me smile a little. He reached up and squeezed my hand carefully.

“Come on.” He tugged on my hand. “We’ve got homework to get done.”

I squeezed his shoulder and kicked my bag over to my chair. I felt like hell that this happened because of me, but it didn’t mean that I didn’t appreciate it.

I hadn’t known the meaning of hell until Evan was ostracized from his group of so-called “friends.” I was used to the name-calling and being picked on, and yes, it had increased tenfold, but Evan was not used to any of it. There had been more than one occasion when I’d had to find new ways to keep him occupied and get his mind off everything they were saying; it hadn’t been easy. There were only so many stories I could tell him about my younger days when things were good at home before he stopped laughing.

Evan never took it out on me, though. He’d promised that he wouldn’t and he hadn’t. I didn’t trust him completely, but I trusted him more than I had a week ago.

We’d obviously gotten close through all of this, and it made my heart beat faster every time he’d randomly grab my hand while we were working on something, keeping his eyes focused on whatever was in front of him as he rubbed his thumb on my palm.

He had his moments, of course, when he’d get aggravated about everything everyone was saying, and I didn’t make it any better when I’d looked at him as if he had three heads. I tended to forget that he was new to the whole social outcast thing, and he tended to forget that this was nothing new to me. When we both realized what we were