The Bad Boy Opened Up To Me

It was now Saturday and I was at the cafe. It was just a few minutes to six and for the moment, business was slow. There hadn't been any customers for the passed half and hour and the small amount that were in here had already gotten served. Because I didn't have anything to do, I made myself busy with the task of wiping down the counter.

I was finished and had just washed my hands, when the bell over the door indicated a new customer. I looked up at the person and saw that it was Carson. He came into the cafe and sat at a booth near the window. I took up my ordering pad and walked over to him.

"Hi Carson. What can I get you?" I asked, when I reached where he sat.

Carson looked up at me with a surprise expression. He then smiled, but it wasn't a full smile. "I didn't remember that you work here." He said, then looked down adding. "I don't want anything. I just came here to sit down."

"Okay then." I studied him. Carson wasn't himself at all. It was obvious that something was on his mind. Even when he talked to me, his mind was somewhere else. I frown at him. "Carson are you okay?"

He look up at me, then back to the table. "Yeah, sure."

I knew he was lying, so I pushed on. "You can tell me. I'm a good listener."

He looked at me and smiled again. This smile was much more believable. "You don't give up, do you?" He asked, propping his elbow on the table and rest his chin in the palm of his hands.

I smiled and shook my head. "Nope." I said popping the 'p'.

"One, I'm sure you have a lot of work to do and two, as I said before, I'm okay." He replied.

"One, you are not and two, take a look around you. The cafe is practically empty." I countered, waving my hands around the almost empty cafe. I then turn around to give Samantha, who was at the cash register a signal that I was going on a break. She nodded at me and I took a seat in front of Carson. "So, tell me."

"It's nothing. You don't have to worry yourself with it." He said, removing his hand from his chin and resting both of them on the table.

But the thing was, I was worrying. For some reason, Carson has become my friend and I couldn't help but be concerned as to what was bothering him. "Carson as I said before, I don't mind. You can tell me anything." I replied, prodding him to speak.

"Just as you can tell me anything." He said, looking at me intensely. I looked away from him then. I know exactly what he was referring to. He was talking about the bruises that he saw on my neck on Thursday.

He had a point. I was selfish to tell him that he could tell me anything, when I myself was hiding something from him. But it was different. I couldn't tell him what he needed to know, because I would be in real trouble with my stepfather if I did so. I wouldn't risk that.

I cleared my throat and spoke. "Carson, I don't know what you are talking about. I don't need to tell you anything."

He looked at me for a very long time. I was starting to get uncomfortable under his intense gaze. Finally, he spoke. "Okay then. If you say so."

He became quiet again and I sat in front of him waiting. A few seconds had passed before he spoke. "I came because I couldn't be at my house anymore. I couldn't sit and listen to my father putting me down once again."

"What do you mean?" I asked tentatively. I was glad that he was trusting me to tell me what was bothering him. I didn't want to say anything to turn him off. I was even afraid to breathe, in case he decided to change his mind.

He sighed again, heavily this time, before he finally looked at me. "My father thinks I'm throwing my life away because I won't do what he wants me to do. He's also upset because I'm always getting into trouble. He is well known in the business world for owning one of the largest manufacturing firm in the States. It would affect his reputation if anyone knew he had a rebellious son."

"That is terrible. How can he think that?" I exclaimed questioningly.

He shrugged. "Well, he does and he doesn't fail to tell he how disappointed he is of me." He replied, then finally added. "He wants me to take over the family business, but I won't."

"Why does he wants you to do that?" I asked.

"He wants his own flesh and blood to be his successor, but I don't want that. I told him that I wanted to become an engineer." He replied.

"Wow," I said, leaning my back on the chair behind me. "I guess he wasn't happy with your decision, huh?"

"No. Every chance he gets, he would try and convince me. What he doesn't understand is that my mind would never change." He said laughed dryly. "He even went as far as saying that if I continue in this path, he would not fund my tuition for college."

My eyes widen as realization hit me like a ton of bricks. "So that is why you fight for money. You want to fund your own way into college." I said. It wasn't really a question, because I already knew the answer. Everything was clicking into place now.

Carson nodded his head in confirmation. I became quiet for a while, deep in thought. Carson doesn't want to take over his father's business, which could be the reason of him acting out.

I then looked at him and said firmly. "I think your father is very foolish. Firstly, you are an intelligent boy. You are getting good grades in your classes, surely he must see that." I said, leaning my elbows on the table. "And second, it's your future. He should allow you to choose what you want to do and respect your decisions."

"Try telling that to my father." He said, crossing his arms over his chest. "He doesn't want to hear anything, unless I'm going to get my business degree and take over the manufacturing firm when I graduate."

"I'm sorry that you have to go through this." I said. I couldn't imagine having a father that doesn't want his own son to follow his own dreams.

"Yeah," he replied, then looked at me. "Thanks for understanding. My mom doesn't agree with him, but there is nothing she can do. She had talked to him about it one time, but he wouldn't listen to her either. She didn't bring it up again. She is trying to keep the family together."

I looked at Carson again. It was obvious that what his father wanted from him was getting him down. It really hurts me to see him like this. Somehow Carson has entered my life and allowed me to have feelings that I've never experienced before. I wish there was something I could do to make this better for him.

Carson looked at me again and gave me a small smile. "So, when do you leave work? I can bring you home."

"It's almost six thirty." I said, as I looked at my watch. "It's almost time to leave."

"So, I kept you from your work." He teased. "I'm a bad influence."

I laugh lightly. "No, it's okay. I didn't mind at all." I said, as I got up from the seat.

"Go on ahead, I'll wait for you out front."

I went back around to the back of the cafe and changed back into my original clothes. While doing this, I couldn't help but feel happy and guilty at the same time. I was really happy that Carson considered me a friend to tell his problems to, but I felt really guilty that I had my own problems that I won't tell anyone or him about.

I finished changing and waved goodbye to Miranda, Sam, Kerry and Riley as I walked back out to the front. I saw Carson through the glass windows of the cafe standing casually near his car, waiting on me. I really wanted to tell someone; to tell him about my stepfather, but I just couldn't. I sigh as I walk outside. I was really afraid of what Allan would do to me if he found out. I was really afraid of him. I got in Carson's car and he drove me home.

Tonight, I saw a different part of Carson. Not the boy who would start fights with other boys in school, not the boy who is always getting in trouble and not the underground fighter, but a boy who has problems with his father at home and who is frustrated because of it.