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

were first paired up for the project, and it was a fun topic for us.”

I flinched, crossing my arms over my stomach.

“His parents bought him his BMW a few days after the party, and he hasn’t driven the Buick since. I had to throw out those boots from the video because I’d worn the soles off them. That’s what I was trying to tell you in class the other day.”

“I know that now,” I said. “It doesn’t change the fact that you still said those things.”

“I know that. I wasn’t . . . Anna, I’m not the same person now.”

“What changed?”

“When I grabbed you that day, and I put marks on you . . . Jesus Christ, Anna, that was like my fucking wake-up call or something. I was raised to respect women and treat them as queens and to never put my hands on them that way.”

He stayed quiet, and I finally opened my eyes, staring up at the star-specked sky as I thought of what to say.

“My dad, Zack, isn’t my biological father.”

Through the dim beam of the streetlights, I could see the muscles in his back tense as he pushed us.

“What?”

“My real father abused my mother.” He looked over his shoulder at me, and the pain on his face nearly took my breath away. “He hit me once when I was three, and that was what it took for Mom to call the police on him. I’d always said I’d never be that way to anyone, no matter what. And I . . .” He looked away from me. “My first memory is of him coming at me and hitting me as I sat on the living room floor with a coloring book while my mom screamed at him, and I just . . . I hurt you. I put marks on you like he did to me and my mother and . . .”

I felt him stiffen as I got up and sat down behind him, pressed myself against his back, and wrapped my arms around his waist, while I rested my cheek on his back.

It didn’t make the things he’d said about me right, and it didn’t get him off the hook completely, but it sure as hell helped me understand a lot more about him. Not everything was as perfect and as peachy in his life as he’d made it seem, either.

“Anna, it’s not an excuse to get you to believe me.”

“I know,” I whispered, tilting my head up and resting my chin on his back. “I know.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“Evan, please, you were already forgiven for that.”

“When I said those things, . . . I . . . I had no right to say them. No one has any right to say anything about you, and it took me hurting you to realize that. I don’t deserve your forgiveness, and I don’t deserve your company. What I deserve is for you to kick me to the curb and make me suffer for everything I’ve ever done to you.”

“I would never do that.”

“But you should!” he exclaimed, pulling my arms from his waist and jumping up to pace in front of me. “God, you should.”

“But I won’t.”

“Why?”

“Everyone deserves a second chance.”

“I’ve already had my second chance with you, remember?”

“This you hasn’t had a second chance with me. This you is different than the guy I talked to three weeks ago.”

He stared at me, and I stared back, doing my best to think of anything else to say to him. I’d never expected to hear something like this from him and wondered why we had never talked about his past before. It was a small town and people couldn’t keep their mouths shut about crap like this.

“Why didn’t I know about your dad before?”

“Your father actually made sure to keep it quiet for us. The only people that knew were the neighbors who saw the cops show up, and the cops themselves.”

“How did my dad—”

“My mom needed a lawyer, and since this is such a ‘big town’ and all, it didn’t take much convincing on your dad’s part to ask the police to keep it quiet.” He shrugged and smiled sadly at me, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“The neighbors didn’t say anything?”

“The neighbors were Kyle’s family and Zack.”

Well, that explained everything. “Oh.”

“Yeah.”

“You always refer to Zack as your father . . .”

“He may not be my biological father, but he’s always been there when I needed him. He’s more of a father to me than Greg was, and that’s all that matters to me.”

I curled my legs underneath me and stared down at my lap as I fidgeted.

“When did your feelings for me change?” I asked. “When did you want to be with me?”

“When I came to see you after Brittany and Grace wrote those things on your locker. When you let me get you out of the house and trusted me when I asked you to.”

“Why?”

“You are such a good person, Anna,” he said. “When I saw what had happened to your locker, I just . . . I saw red.” He chuckled darkly. “You’re funny and sweet, and you’ve got more personality than anyone I used to call friend. You’ve never tried to fit in, you’ve never asked for anything from anyone, you’ve never bothered anyone, and all we did was torture you. It took that incident for me to really get it.”

“I’m not thin, Evan. I probably never will be.”

“I don’t fucking care about that.”

“You used to.”

“I used to care about a lot of shit that I don’t anymore. Anna,” he said, taking a step forward and crouching down in front of me, “You’re beautiful. I meant it when I said it before, and I mean it just as much now. Everything about you is beautiful, and I’m sorry for everything.”

“If I say that you’re forgiven, will you stop apologizing?” I asked.

“Yes.”

“You’re forgiven.”

“You’re not just saying that out of pity?”

“Evan . . .”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I.”

“Do you believe me about the pictures