Beside You Ch. 17: I Am Broken Too

Chapter Seventeen: I Am Broken Too

I didn't like the way my mind wanted to fuck with me.

I know what happened earlier. I was there.

Still, I kept running through different scenarios in my mind.

So many different things could have happened. For all I know, some things did happen.

I hated today.

It was supposed to be a good day.

How could I have been so stupid?

I fooled myself into thinking that I was safe here.

Then fucking Steven finds me here.

I felt sick.

Damn it, I felt like I wanted to run away.

Anxiety gripped me tightly as I tried to calm myself down.

Why? Out of all the places he had to be, did it have to be here?

Why did he have to be related to Benny?

It was getting hard to breathe.

Why couldn't I forget about anything and everything that boy did?

The handle jiggled.

My head shot up, and I was quick to wrap my arms around the boy that stood confused in the doorway.

"I'm sorry," he said, "It took a little longer than I thought."

He wrapped his arms around me, despite the bags in his hands.

I couldn't help but cry.

I hated Steven.

I didn't want to feel this way about another human being, but I hated him.

"What the fuck did that fucker do to you?" Michael asked.

His voice was quiet as if trying not to startle me.

He moved back a little to set the bags down, forcing me to release him from my grip.

He stepped into the room and closed the door behind him.

"Sorry," I mumbled.

He shook his head, and his arms opened again for me to step into them.

Was Michael always like this?

I closed the distance, and I wrapped my arms around him.

His arms went around me. His right hand pulled me closer by my lower back, while his left hand moved up and down my back soothingly.

"You're okay now," he soothed.

I nodded against him, despite the constant flow of tears.

"I can't believe it was him," he said, "What a fucking idiot."

Michael sounded genuinely bothered.

"Mayren," Michael whispered, unsure.

"Michael," I managed to say through sobs.

I felt his chin on the top of my head.

His body felt so big, so firm, so strong, and so damn warm.

"Why didn't you say anything?" he asked, "It's your name."

I couldn't manage to say it. The sobs wouldn't allow me an adequate chance to breathe.

He moved just slightly to the side before gently moving me a little to the other side.

He was rocking me back and forth.

I slowly loosened my grip around him and slowly brought my hands up his back.

He took in a sharp breath.

My hands stopped at the backs of his shoulders.

I don't know how he did it, but he did.

I was able to breathe.

"Feeling better?" he asked.

I pulled away just a little to nod.

I could see the concern on his face, but he didn't voice it.

"I'm sorry about all that," I mumbled.

"No," he said, "You don't need to apologize for that kind of stuff."

I nodded slowly.

"I'm here for you," he said, "Benny and Gus too."

I nodded, feeling my eyes starting to water again.

These ones I was able to force away.

"And I'm here for you," I said, "For Benny and Gus too."

I knew how sappy it was before it came out of my mouth.

That didn't matter. I was loving this moment.

It pained me to think it.

It made me love this boy more.

The second it crossed my mind, my gaze hit the floor.

"Sappy," Michael said.

I could hear the smile in his voice.

I can't keep reminding myself to let him go. He likes you. He's not in like with you.

The silence felt a little heavy.

"So," Michael said, "I got a couple different things."

He picked up the bags only to set them down again, but on the bed this time.

"It felt like you needed something stronger than beer," he said, "But I got something like beer, in case I was wrong."

I nodded, "Both were a good idea."

He smiled with just a little bit of teeth.

My heart pounded in my ears. I don't see a lot of smiles quite like that one.

"Harder stuff first," I said.

"Harder stuff isn't cold," he said, "So could be a good idea, or it could be a bad one."

I almost had to think about it, "It's a good one."

I heard it hits you harder if it's warm.

Though I didn't really know for sure, since I've never really been a big drinker.

I've had beer and wine coolers here and there.

I can't say I've really had anything considered as hard liquor before.

"What did you get?" I asked, sitting on the bed next to the bags.

He smiled slightly as he pulled out a bottle with brown liquid in it. Not too dark.

"Black Label," he said, showing me the bottle.

It indeed had a black label on it.

"Not bad for the price," he said, "It's actually pretty fucking good for the price."

I nodded as he went back to the bags.

I watched as he pulled out several different cans, all-white or silver.

"What are those?" I asked, grabbing the thin can.

I read the words before he could even say it.

"What's a White Claw?" I asked.

"Girly beer," Michael stated.

There were different colored ones.

"I also got this one," Michael pulled out another bottle.

It looked like yellow liquid.

"Peach vodka," he said.

I glanced down to see two large yellow cans.

"And those?"

"I wanted to try one," he shrugged, "So I got one for you too."

I nodded slowly.

"Twisted Tea," he said, "Tea and Lemonade."

That didn't sound too bad actually.

"So which one first?" I asked.

He held up the peach vodka.

"Shot of this first," he said, "Then I'm going to put them in the freezer."

I nodded.

Michael pulled out a little box with five tall shot glasses in it.

"You bought new shot glasses?" I asked, "You don't already have some?"

He hesitated before he shook his head, "I always drink out of the bottle."

That made sense.

"Thank you," I said.

He looked a little surprised.

I wasn't going to get mad at him for doing something nice for me. He thought about me, and he went above and beyond.

Why wouldn't he just let me love him?

He ripped open the packaging and looked at each one to study them.

"Which one do you want?"

He handed one to me, then another, and then another until all five were in my hands.

They didn't have any pictures on them. They were just different colors.

One was blue, one was orange, another was pink, and then green, the last one was clear.

I looked at all of them, trying to decide which one I wanted.

"Blue," I said with a hard nod.

"Alright," he said.

He took them from me and went to the bathroom.

I was going to ask him what he was doing, but then I heard the faucet turn on.

He is washing them?

I found myself smiling a little at that.

Was it normal to feel this good over stupid stuff like that?

I sat a little awkwardly, waiting for him to finish up.

Why couldn't I help him?

I grabbed several of the thin cans and placed them in the small refrigerator by the bed.

I repeated the process until all the cans were in the fridge and the Black Label was in the small freezer.

The only things left out are the tall yellow tea cans and the peach vodka.

The other bag had chips and a couple other small snacks. I have yet to check.

I sat back on the bed once I was finished.

Michael emerged from the bathroom with only two of the shot glasses.

One glass was the blue one, the other was pink.

"Pink?" I asked.

He shrugged, "Is liking pink wrong?"

I shook my head.

I just wasn't the biggest fan of the color pink.

"They didn't have any with red," Michael shrugged, "Pink is the closest."

Why red?

He glanced at the spot he had set all the drinks. His gaze went to me with a questioning look.

I pointed to the small fridge.

"I put them away," I said.

He only nodded before setting the shots down onto the TV stand/dresser.

I watched him grab the glass bottle from the bed and twisted it open.

It was a little strange to watch. It felt like he's opened plenty of bottles before.

Of course I already know that he's a drinker. Still, it felt strange to watch.

He filled the blue glass to the top but poured the pink one just under the rim.

"Come and get it," he said.

I stood up quickly to grab my glass.

Michael held his out towards me.

I grinned as I lightly tapped my glass to his.

We both downed our shots.

It had a bit of a sweet taste, but it mostly just burned.

Michael made a face once his drink was gone.

I set the blue glass back on the dresser.

"That tasted worse than I thought it would."

"You haven't tried it before?" I asked, "Then why did you get it?"

He glanced to the side a little awkwardly, "I wasn't sure what you would like."

This boy.

My heart.

Damn it.

"Thank you," I said with a small smile.

He set his pink glass next to mine.

"You aren't mad?" he asked, "I wasn't sure if you wanted all of this."

He gestured to the bags.

I shook my head, "I didn't know what I needed, but I do appreciate this."

"Yeah?" he asked.

I nodded, "Yeah."

Was it warm in here, or was it just me?

My stomach felt the full extent of the vodka. It felt like a heater, warming me up from the inside out.

"I have a lot of questions," Michael said.

My eyes locked with his.

"I'm not quite there yet," I admitted.

He nodded.

"But you can still ask," I said, "If you want."

He looked like he was thinking about it for a minute, but then he shook his head.

"Do you want to try the tea?" he asked.

He picked them up and held one out to me.

I pointed at the peach vodka, "Can I have another shot first?"

He made a face as if unsure.

"Are you sure?" he asked.

I nodded.

He poured another shot, but only filled the blue one.

"Didn't like it?" I asked.

"It's not terrible," he said, "I've had worse."

I drank my shot and set the blue glass down before I even swallowed all of it.

"Tell me what your plan is," Michael said.

Huh?

"My plan?" I asked.

He nodded.

"You wanted to drink," he said, "You said that you wanted to forget today happened."

I forgot about that, mostly.

I nodded.

"Is that still how you feel?" he asked.

My head shook slowly.

I wanted to remember every second I had with him, but I needed this shitty feeling from earlier to go away already.

I took the tea and cracked it open.

"Ren," Michael asked. It was so quiet I barely heard it.

"Hmm?" I asked just before taking a drink of the tea.

"What did he mean," he hesitated, "That your mom sent you to fat camp?"

I frowned.

I had a feeling that he would ask about that. I just wasn't sure how soon he'd actually ask.

"She did," I admitted.

He opened his mouth to speak but shut it.

"It was hard," I said, "And I hated every second of it."

I couldn't decipher what the look on his face meant.

"What?" I asked.

He only shook his head.

I could see anger in those blue eyes.

"Tell me," I said.

As soon as the words left my mouth, I felt both of those shots.

The world swayed, and I don't know if I actually moved or if my vision was just messing with me.

"Your mother pisses me off," he said flatly.

I couldn't help but laugh at that.

"She pisses me off too."

I felt the world sway again. This time it was me. Michael had to take my tea from me so that I didn't spill it.

"Ren," he said, even though it sounded like a warning.

"I feel it now," I said.

"I can see that," Michael said back.

I waited to see if he was going to say something else, but he didn't.

As I watched him, I could feel the weight on my shoulders falling away.

Oh.

I guess I get why Michael drinks.

It feels a little too good.

I reached for the tea, but Michael moved it just out of my reach.

"What?" I asked, "I'm okay."

He eyed me suspiciously.

"Michael," I whined.

"Ren," he said firmly.

"Really," I said, "I'm fine."

I felt lighter, and it was strange.

He took a drink of the tea before handing it back to me.

"Thank you," I said.

I took a big drink.

It tasted funny, but it wasn't bad.

"Ren," Michael said, "Talk to me."

I stared at him for a minute, and I thought about telling him everything.

I thought about telling him about all the things I've gone through. I thought about telling him about how things were when I was young. I thought about telling him about how things used to be great.

I knew better.

My head cocked to the side.

"Tell me something about you," I said, "I feel like I barely know anything."

He frowned, "Something like what?"

I didn't know.

There were so many things I didn't know about Michael, and I wanted to know it all.

I was a little buzzed, and I was feeling brave.

"Tell me something about your mother," I said.

I knew that Benny told me never to ask about his mother, but I felt like I needed something, no matter how small.

He looked irritated.

"Ren," he said, clearly trying not to snap at me.

"I want to know," I said, "Anything. I'm not asking for everything."

He took in a breath, "If I do, will you talk to me?"

"If we can both talk about stuff," I said, "Then yes."

"Okay," he said.

He took the tea from me to take a big drink.

I probably should have given him crap for drinking from my tea, but I enjoyed it a little more than I should have.

"My mother was sick," he admitted, "When she was young, she was diagnosed with Schizophrenia."

I felt a cold shiver run through me. It was nearly enough to sober me.

I wasn't even sure how to respond to that.

"If that wasn't hard enough," he said, "She also had early-onset dementia."

Oh fuck.

"I'm sorry," I said, taking his hand in mine.

He shook his head and took his hand away.

I frowned, feeling rejected.

"Did I ever tell you that I also have a step-dad?" I asked him.

Michael shook his head.

"He pretended I didn't exist," I admitted, "Because he wanted his own family."

"And what did your mother say?" he asked.

"She wanted him more than she wanted me," I admitted.

"And your father?" he asked.

I nearly choked on a laugh.

Michael looked at me like he could tell something was wrong.

"Ren?" he asked, "What about him?"

"I don't know where he is," I said.

"Did he leave?"

I shook my head, "He was forced to."

"Tell me."

Why did he want to delve so deep into my shit but barely tell me anything about himself?

"There is a lot to tell," I said, "But I guess I could compress it."

He stood there waiting for me to talk.

I didn't speak for a good ten minutes at least.

"My mother is a jealous person," I said, "As far back as I can remember, she's always been that way."

"Jealous?" he asked, "About what?"

I made a face, "It's actually ridiculous."

He didn't say anything.

"She didn't like the way my father doted on me," I said, "She wanted his attention."

Michael looked furious.

"My dad always thought it was a little cute," I felt my mouth go dry, "Until she accused him of touching me."

Michael stared at the ground. I could see him shaking.

"Did he?" he asked, barely loud enough for me to hear.

I shook my head, "Not like that."

"So then," he said, "What happened?"

I took in a breath.

"She told everybody who would listen," I said, "Until everyone we knew treated my dad like a monster."

"He left after that?"

"He tried to take me with him," I said, "But my mother would never let that happen."

"She didn't even want you," he growled, "What the fuck?"

"To spite him," I said, "I don't understand it, but I know that much."

"Did no one ask you?" he asked.

"Every time someone tried, my mother would always tell them how afraid I was," I said, "Even when I begged to see him."

He shook his head. Clearly he was thinking about something.

"What about your father?" I asked.

Michael continued to shake his head, "Dead."

I frowned.

"Recent?" I asked.

He took another big drink of my tea.

"Michael?" I asked.

He had been quiet for a little longer than I could handle.

"He died when I was little," he said, "I barely even remember him."

"How old were you?" I asked.

"Six," he stated.

"How old were you when you went to live with Benny?" I asked.

His eyes locked with mine, and I could see the cold look in his eyes.

"Fourteen."

I wanted to ask why.

I wanted to know who hurt him.

Was it his sick mother?

Was it someone else close to him?

"Michael," I began, but he stopped me.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," he said flatly.

"Okay," I said, "What do you want to talk about?"

He was quiet again.

I grabbed the bottle of vodka and filled my little blue glass, and I tried to pour one for him, but he covered the top with his hand.

What?

"Why not?" I asked.

"I need to keep my head," he stated, "And someone has to look after you."

I felt like that should have been flattering. It didn't feel that way at all.

I frowned.

My hand reached for the shot, and I downed it.

The burn wasn't as bad this time. Now the liquid only tasted nasty.

"Did you really love him?" Michael asked.

"Who?" I asked.

He glanced away, "Steven."

"For a while, I really thought I did," I said, "But it always felt weird that he was one of the only people that would actually talk to me."

"Why is that weird?" Michael asked.

I had to sigh.

"Have you ever not been attractive?" I asked.

His eyebrow arched at my question.

"I used to get brutally picked on because of my birthmark," I stated, "And even when I tried to hide it, kids would always find out about it."

He just stared at me.

"I was alone," I confessed, "So I ate."

He just continued to stare.

"I was a big girl," I said, "A big girl with a birthmark that freaked everybody out."

He bit the inside of his mouth as if that could keep him quiet.

"It didn't help that the few people that didn't care got picked on just for speaking to me," I smiled sadly, "So when he wanted to talk to me, I didn't understand."

It looked like he bit down harder.

"He took the bullying and still tried to talk to me," I laughed, "For a while, he was good to me."

It felt like Michael wanted to say something. He just wouldn't.

"It changed when he tried to sleep with me," I said, "I was surprised that he even wanted to see me naked."

By the look on his face, I could tell how irritated Michael was.

"Nobody bullied him after that," I said, "And he made sure that things were worse for me."

"Piece of shit," Michael mumbled.

"I didn't really love him," I said, "Because I didn't know him."

He shook his head at my words.

"Thank you for earlier," I said, "Even though you lied for me."

"Is it true?" he asked.

I made a face as I thought about it.

"Is what true?"

"That you didn't fuck him?"

I frowned. It actually hurt to hear him ask.

"He seemed pretty fucking adamant on the fact that he was your first."

I was upset now.

"You don't believe me?" I asked.

"I'm asking you," he stated.

I felt sick.

"If you didn't believe me," I nearly gasped, "Then why lie?"

He only shrugged.

Fucking damn it.

Why couldn't I have time with Michael that didn't hurt?

Why couldn't I be with him without this kind of shit?

"Did you?" he asked.

"Did I what?" I snapped.

He looked frustrated, "Did you fuck him?"

That's really what he wants to know? Out of everything I told him, that's what he wants to ask me about?

I poured another shot and drank it.

"What if I did?" I asked.

"Then you're a fucking liar," he said.

I felt my eyes start to sting.

"And what if I didn't?" I asked.

His eyes locked with mine, "He was so fucking sure that you weren't a virgin anymore."

"Okay?" I asked.

"What else am I supposed to think?"

I was angry.

I poured another shot.

"You need to slow down," Michael said.

He reached to take the shot before I could, but he wasn't fast enough.

I drank it.

"Why does it matter?" I demanded, "If I'm a virgin or not?"

Michael glared at me.

I was very much a virgin.

Does he really think that I'm lying about this?

"I grew up with Steven," Michael stated, "He's always loved to brag, but he didn't lie."

Despite the alcohol in my system, it felt like ice water ran through me.

He believes Steven.

What the actual fuck?

"Believe what you want to believe then," I said.

"Why can't you just fucking answer the question?" Michael demanded.

"Why?" I hissed, "It's not like you'll believe me anyway."

"What the fuck else am I supposed to think?" he growled, "I know him better than I know you."

Damn it.

"And whose fault is that?" I asked.

He didn't respond.

"I'm trying to know you better," I said, "You won't let me."

"Right," he said, "Because it's all my fault."

"Some of it is," I said, "And you know it."

"This is a fucking joke," Michael sighed.

"I already told you," I said, "That I want more, you're the one that doesn't."

"That has nothing to do with this," Michael stated.

"Bullshit," I gasped, "You only reveal so much. I have to constantly beg for more."

"No," he said flatly, "You can get to know someone without being in a relationship with them."

"We're friends," I stated, "And still you don't want to tell me about yourself."

I know that he just told me about his mom, but it feels bigger than that.

"I'm not just going to open up to anybody that tries to get to know me, Ren," he said, "How fucking stupid is that?"

"About as stupid as you being hung up on me being a liar," I stated, "You weren't there."

"That's why I asked you," he said, "And you won't give me a straight answer."

"Haven't I said that I am a virgin this whole fucking time?"

"Is Mayren a virgin?" he asked.

This fucking asshole.

"See," I gasped, "It doesn't matter what I say."

"You said so yourself," he stated, "You wanted to leave the old you behind. You never said just how much you were leaving."

This was ridiculous.

"I thought you were trying to make me feel better?" I asked.

I was mentally exhausted.

I thought that Michael trusted me. I guess I was wrong.

"Answer the question."

"You're being an asshole," I said.

"And you're avoiding the question."

I set my tea down.

"Michael," I said, "I haven't lied to you."

"Right," he said, "I'm sure you've never lied to me. Not once."

I was trying to be sincere, and here he goes again.

"I have no reason to lie about this," I stated.

"Of course you fucking do," he said, "You want me."

I frowned at his words.

"Does me not being a virgin change how you feel?" I asked.

"No," he said flatly.

"Then again," I asked, "Why the fuck does it matter?"

Michael just stood there shaking his head again.

"I thought you were different," he said.

The second those words left his mouth, I felt something in me snap.

"Fuck you," I hissed, "I thought you were different."

"I told you from day one that nothing was going to happen between us," he said, "You came up with all of those expectations on your own."

"Message received," I stated, "You and me. Never."

Damn it.

Why did I let people hurt me?

I wanted him to be different.

No, I needed him to be.

I felt the shots hitting me again, but I couldn't stay here.

My eyes started to sting again.

Fuck, I was so angry.

I was tired of being hurt. I was tired of finally feeling so many things only to be ripped apart.

I felt it before it happened.

It was happening. I was shutting down.

My body turned, and I didn't hesitate to leave the room.

I just felt weird as I tried to walk, but the alcohol wasn't letting me.

It felt strange. I swayed just a little before catching myself on the railing.

An annoying buzzing in my ear distracted me as I tried to keep moving forward.

"Ren?"

I looked down to see Benny at the bottom of the stairs.

Benny?

I stepped forward, but something gripped my arm hard and tried to pull me back.

I pushed forward, but the world spun around me.

My eyes shut, and all I felt was pain.

"Oh shit," Benny gasped, "Are you guys okay?"

Huh?

I opened my eyes, and I was on top of Michael.

My gaze went from him to the side.

Benny's legs were sideways.

I blinked a few times before I realized that I was the one that was sideways.

"Fuck," Michael groaned.

I was quick to move off of him.

Did we actually just fall down the stairs? When? How?

I didn't feel a thing. Maybe a little less pain.

More than anything else, I feel dizzy.

"Are you okay?" Benny asked.

Her hand was on my shoulder.

I just nodded.

"Michael?" she asked.

"Yeah," he said, "I'm fucking peachy."

I turned to glare at him, but he didn't look so good.

He held his left arm.

Was he actually hurt?

I glanced towards the stairs.

Fucking hell, of course he was hurt.

Gus came out of nowhere and helped Michael up.

What the hell?

I didn't like this feeling.

"What are you guys doing here?" I asked.

"Michael texted me," Benny said, "He said that you had a bad day, and you were getting drunk."

I glance back at Michael.

"It's a school night," Gus stated, "He wanted to make sure Benny was here to bring you back before curfew."

How the fuck did she get out of school?

I reached for Benny.

She caught my hand and helped haul me up.

I had to hold on to her so that I didn't fall over again.

"This is why you shouldn't drink and walk," Gus stated.

He pulled Michael off the ground, and I could see it. Michael was hurt.

He was hurt, and it was all my fault.

Damn it.

"You should go to the hospital," Benny said.

"I'm fine," Michael hissed.

"No, you're not," Benny said, "Can you even raise your arm?"

"I'm fine," Michael said again, "Worry about her."

I glared at him.

I too was fine.

Well, as fine as I could be given the circumstances.

Okay, I wasn't fine.

I leaned forward to poke his left shoulder, and he winced.

"Fuck," he said, "What the fuck?"

"You're not fine," I stated, "And neither am I."

He stared back at me for a minute, and it felt like he was hurt.

Yes, he was hurt, but emotionally as well.

"I'll take him to the ER," Gus said.

"Good luck with that," Michael huffed.

"How drunk are you?" Benny asked, "Because it might be a good idea for you to wait a little while."

"I'm not drunk," he hissed, "I just don't want to go."

"I don't give two fucking shits if you want to go," Benny hissed, "You're fucking going."

He glanced awkwardly at me.

I looked away from him.

"Come on," Gus said, "Let's get you in the car."

Michael wouldn't budge.

"We should drop them off first," Michael stated.

"Oh no," Benny was quick to say, "She needs to walk this off."

"Then I'm not fucking going anywhere," Michael growled.

Gus looked at Benny. He wasn't sure what to do.

"Fine," Benny said after a minute, "But you better go without a fight."

"Fine."

To be honest, I don't know exactly how I got in the car. It felt a little like blinking, and then I just kind of was.

The ride back to school felt strained.

Gus was talking about something, but nobody else said anything.

"I don't know what happened," Gus said, "But know that you can tell us anything Ren."

I only nodded.

I was done talking today.

Part of me felt bad, but I had a long day.

I knew Gus and Benny would wait. They were both good like that.

I didn't even realize we reached the school until Benny was at my door, pulling me out of the car.

"Good luck," Benny said to the boys.

I stood next to her before she pulled me with her towards the gate.

"What the fuck even happened?" she asked.

"Tomorrow," I said, "Let me sleep, and I'll tell you tomorrow."

She hesitated before she nodded.

"I'll hold you to that," she said.

I'd tell her, of course. I just needed to be in my right mind when I did.

She pulled me all the way to our room.

It still felt strange, but I was losing the full effect of the alcohol now.

It was nice to feel normal again, but with that only came feelings from the fight.

How many times does he have to reject me before it sticks?

I sat on my bed and stared at the pair of sweats on the covers.

My phone!

I checked one pocket before having to dig through the other.

Now that I was certain Michael didn't want more, I could move on.

Even though the idea alone hurt.

I unlocked my phone before going to my messages.

I needed to do this before I chickened out.

Once I saw his name, I clicked on it.

To: Collin – 'Hey is the invitation for Saturday still open?'

I didn't have to wait long. The bubbles at the bottom of the screen let me know that he was replying.

From: Collin - 'It is.'

I got a second message before I could reply.

From: Collin - 'Did you change your mind?'

Alright, here we go.

To: Collin – 'I did.'

I decided to send a second one.

To: Collin – 'I'd love to go with you.'

Now I try my best to fall out of love with Michael King.