The QuestionMature

I stared at the paper for a few more minutes before picking up the phone and telling Dr. Alder I'd come by next Tuesday after school. Then I hung up, folded the letter, stuffed it back into the drawer and went to take a shower. All I wanted to do was forget about what I'd read, but I knew that wasn't possible.

After the shower, I stood in front of the fogged up mirror, staring at the distorted image of myself. I wiped a hand across the glass, revealing my eyes. If anyone had seen me lately they would claim I looked tired. They didn't know the half of it. No one else could know. Not my classmates, teachers, principal, or even my mother.

My mother; the alcoholic, the smoker, the overreacting woman, and now the liar.

A shiver ran down my body and I tried to focus on the girl in front of me. I hadn't looked like this, so weak and frail, in a long time. Not since before my dad left. That ruined both of our lives, but maybe it was for the best. I wondered if he had stayed, would he have known about the letter? Would he have known he had a son, accepted him, and loved him?

I squeezed my eyes shut and turned away from the mirror. When I heard the door to the bathroom doorknob move, I stepped back, hitting the sink and knocking some things off of it. My toothbrush clattered to the floor before I finally opened my eyes and let out a small shriek.

"Jesus Christ!" I shouted, clutching the towel closer. "You scared the shit out of me. What are you doing here?"

The smile on Christian's face never left as he stared at me. Finally he said, "I thought you could use some company. Looks like I should have gotten here sooner."

"Get out," I muttered, feeling my cheeks heat up. "I have to get dressed."

His stretched his arms over his head and leaned against the wall, smirking. "Take your time," he said, nodding. "I've got nothing else to do."

I bit my lip and bent down to grab my clothes, then pushed around him. "You're a pig," I said softly and headed to my bedroom where I closed and locked the door. I heard his footsteps in the hall.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I'm a creep, I know. But I just came over to ask you something."

After I finished getting my clothes on and tying up my hair, I opened the door. He looked at me sheepishly. I stepped out and he instantly wrapped his arms around me, pulling me closer.

"I guess I can forgive you," I said, leaning up to brush my lips against his throat. When he made a small noise, I grinned. I lowered myself to look at him. "What did you want?"

"Will you go on a date with me?" he asked.

"We're already dating," I reminded him as I headed into the living room. I sat on the couch and he sank down beside me. His head fell onto my shoulder, his lips close to my ear, his breath warm.

"You're ruining the moment," he whispered. Then he touched my cheek, turned my head and kissed me. He tasted like peppermint. After a nice ten minutes, he pulled away.

"I kind of have to go on a date with you, don't I?" I said, then I scrunched my nose. Then I groaned. "Oh, fine, I'll go."

"How's tonight?" he asked hopefully.

"Aren't you pushing it a little?"

When he scowled at me, I grinned.

I wish when I had agreed that I knew what would be in store for us tonight. But I didn't. If I could have predicted the future, maybe I would have been able to stop what was coming.

The End

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