clarity.
“You look pale,” Genny whispered to me as we all walked down the sidewalk to our cars. “Are you alright? Did Sean do anything?” Her forehead was wrinkled in concern for me.
I rested my head on her shoulder and looped my arm through hers. “I’m fine,” I reassured her. I glanced backwards to look at Sean, who was watching me. I couldn’t read his expression at first, but then he smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back. I turned back to Genny. “I’m great.”
Genny looked back at Sean, who winked at her, and she laughed. Isaac took her hand as they reached her car. “Told you so,” she declared as he guided her towards the passenger door.
I waved goodbye. “Don’t get a big head.”
“Too late.”
I laughed, hoping that no one knew what we were talking about, and got into Sean’s truck, accepting his hand up onto the seat.
“What was that all about?” he asked me, his hand still holding mine.
I couldn’t help but blush. “N-nothing,” I stammered.
He nodded as if he really did know, and let go of me to go around to the driver’s side.
I was embarrassed, and I didn’t know what to say to him. I was completely alone with him, and I didn’t know what was going to happen next. I wasn’t in fear for my safety though. I was afraid of my own emotions.
We drove in silence all the way home. When Sean pulled into his parking space, I began to unbuckle my seat belt, but he put a hand on my arm. “Will you stay? I want to tell you something.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper. I nodded, waiting, my heart beating so hard I could hear it. What could he possibly want to say to me?
Sean nodded his thanks and then put his hands back on the steering wheel. “You asked me about my family,” he said slowly. “At the shower, remember?”
I nodded. He wanted to talk about his family?
Apparently so, because he said, “I wasn’t prepared to talk about that then, but I think you should know. I want you to know. Is that alright?”
“Of course,” I could only say.
Sean sighed, and studied his hands as they gripped the wheel. “My dad was real s.o.b. He was manipulative and unreasonable; nothing ever made him happy, nothing was ever good enough. He was controlling, too. The only thing he didn’t do was raise his fists to me and my mom. He had other ways to punish me though.” He let out a huff of ironic laughter. “Sometimes I used to think I’d prefer being hit.”
I said nothing, and he continued. “My mom was a nightmare too, in her own special way. We lived in a real violent neighborhood. I grew up with boys who would kill a person over a six-pack of beer, and with girls who put out in order to get a hot meal. Both of my parents were alcoholics and drug addicts. Dad was mean whether he was drunk or not, and he and my Mom fought constantly. They separated when I was eight; my mom had found herself another guy and skipped out to go live with him in California. She left me with my dad. As controlling as he was, he let me run wild and I got into a lot of trouble. I took my first drink when I was 12. I started stealing my dad’s drugs when I was 13.”
Sean paused and looked at me as if he expected me to run away in shock. “I’m sorry your mom left you,” I said instead. “I know how that is.”
Sean smiled at me gratefully. He took one of his hands off the wheel and reached for mine. I let him take it. He linked his fingers with mine, which were slender and cold. His were large and warm. I studied our linked hands as he continued his story.
“My dad had some real emotional problems made worse by the booze and the drugs.” Sean paused, looked out the windshield and said in a voice that was a little too emotionless, “He killed himself when I was a month shy of fifteen.”
I swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
Sean shrugged, still not looking at me. “My mother wasn’t anywhere to be found at that time; her last known address was a newly demolished building in
“You look pale,” Genny whispered to me as we all walked down the sidewalk to our cars. “Are you alright? Did Sean do anything?” Her forehead was wrinkled in concern for me.
I rested my head on her shoulder and looped my arm through hers. “I’m fine,” I reassured her. I glanced backwards to look at Sean, who was watching me. I couldn’t read his expression at first, but then he smiled at me, and I couldn’t help but smile back. I turned back to Genny. “I’m great.”
Genny looked back at Sean, who winked at her, and she laughed. Isaac took her hand as they reached her car. “Told you so,” she declared as he guided her towards the passenger door.
I waved goodbye. “Don’t get a big head.”
“Too late.”
I laughed, hoping that no one knew what we were talking about, and got into Sean’s truck, accepting his hand up onto the seat.
“What was that all about?” he asked me, his hand still holding mine.
I couldn’t help but blush. “N-nothing,” I stammered.
He nodded as if he really did know, and let go of me to go around to the driver’s side.
I was embarrassed, and I didn’t know what to say to him. I was completely alone with him, and I didn’t know what was going to happen next. I wasn’t in fear for my safety though. I was afraid of my own emotions.
We drove in silence all the way home. When Sean pulled into his parking space, I began to unbuckle my seat belt, but he put a hand on my arm. “Will you stay? I want to tell you something.” His voice was soft, almost a whisper. I nodded, waiting, my heart beating so hard I could hear it. What could he possibly want to say to me?
Sean nodded his thanks and then put his hands back on the steering wheel. “You asked me about my family,” he said slowly. “At the shower, remember?”
I nodded. He wanted to talk about his family?
Apparently so, because he said, “I wasn’t prepared to talk about that then, but I think you should know. I want you to know. Is that alright?”
“Of course,” I could only say.
Sean sighed, and studied his hands as they gripped the wheel. “My dad was real s.o.b. He was manipulative and unreasonable; nothing ever made him happy, nothing was ever good enough. He was controlling, too. The only thing he didn’t do was raise his fists to me and my mom. He had other ways to punish me though.” He let out a huff of ironic laughter. “Sometimes I used to think I’d prefer being hit.”
I said nothing, and he continued. “My mom was a nightmare too, in her own special way. We lived in a real violent neighborhood. I grew up with boys who would kill a person over a six-pack of beer, and with girls who put out in order to get a hot meal. Both of my parents were alcoholics and drug addicts. Dad was mean whether he was drunk or not, and he and my Mom fought constantly. They separated when I was eight; my mom had found herself another guy and skipped out to go live with him in California. She left me with my dad. As controlling as he was, he let me run wild and I got into a lot of trouble. I took my first drink when I was 12. I started stealing my dad’s drugs when I was 13.”
Sean paused and looked at me as if he expected me to run away in shock. “I’m sorry your mom left you,” I said instead. “I know how that is.”
Sean smiled at me gratefully. He took one of his hands off the wheel and reached for mine. I let him take it. He linked his fingers with mine, which were slender and cold. His were large and warm. I studied our linked hands as he continued his story.
“My dad had some real emotional problems made worse by the booze and the drugs.” Sean paused, looked out the windshield and said in a voice that was a little too emotionless, “He killed himself when I was a month shy of fifteen.”
I swallowed. “I’m sorry.”
Sean shrugged, still not looking at me. “My mother wasn’t anywhere to be found at that time; her last known address was a newly demolished building in
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