Mysterious Skin - I Wish I Was (7/15)
Title: I Wish I Was (7/15)
Author: osaki_nana_707
Pairings/Characters: Wendy, Neil, OC Jay, OC Julian, Brian, Eric, WendyxOC Jay, BrianxEric
Rating: light R
Warnings:language, mentions of abuse, drug abuse, sexual situations
Summary: Brian's not through with Neil. Neil's not through destroying himself.
Read
Chapter 7
(Wendy Peterson)
Something was wrong with Neil McCormick… something more wrong than I ever could have imagined. It was becoming abundantly clear that he wasn't just suffering from a drug addiction. Something else was eating away at him, devouring him from the inside out, and whatever drug he was using all the time was being used to dull away the pain of being chewed on and swallowed. I almost felt guilty for putting him on the spot like that only to watch him start crumbling, but that was Neil McCormick… sucking me in with his black-hole heart.
What was wrong I couldn't know, but I couldn't help but get the sickening feeling that it had something to do with that bloody shirt crammed into the back corner of his dresser. At first I hoped that it wasn't someone else's blood, for fear he got too pissed off at someone and killed them, but then my fear was magnified over the idea that it might have been his. He had never mentioned it (of course not, it was Neil after alll), but I expected I would have seen something…
…but I had seen something. I'd been seeing a lot of things… the bruises and scratches, the shutting down, the drug use, the self-destruction… Clearly, something had gone terribly, terribly wrong either in Hutchinson or before, and I had stupidly not noticed… so I couldn't help but feel guilty, threatening to kick out my best friend who was currently in the middle of falling apart.
Still, there was a point when a person could only take so much. I was physically unable to keep working until I dropped just to be able to make rent and utilities, especially for even that to not be enough. I couldn't afford to let him keep leeching off of me like a parasite. I also couldn't allow myself to encourage his self-destruction anymore because, after all, I loved him. It was hard to know why I would at this point, but I did.
When we reached Jay's apartment, it seemed like Neil could barely stand up, legs wobbly underneath him. His hands were in his pockets, and I couldn't help but wonder if his hands were still shaking.
I wondered what he was thinking about.
Jay swung open the door with a smile. Neil gave him a quick onceover, and I could tell that he didn't like him because he never liked any of the boys I dated in the past. Jay wasn't particularly good looking, but I thought that he was so cool with his bleached white hair shaved short at the sides and his tongue piercing.
"Hey, Wendy," he greeted, leaning out and placing a kiss on my forehead. Neil made a low sound in his throat, threatening his disapproval at the man. He gave Neil a look of confusion, and if Neil realized how he himself looked, he wouldn't have been judging Jay so harshly. "Who's this?"
"This is Neil, my roommate. He insisted on coming along this time."
"Oh, well, hey," Jay said, extending his hand to shake.
Neil stared at his hand all decked out in rings and nail polish for a long second before taking it. His hands were still shaking a little.
"Nice to meet you, Neil. I've heard a lot about you," Jay said.
Neil grunted in response.
"So, what brings you two here?"
"Could we maybe use your shower? Dumbass here didn't pay the water bill, and I have to work tomorrow morning, so I'd like to be clean."
He opened the door and gestured to let both of us in. Neil was lighting up a cigarette, not caring whether or not Jay wanted people smoking in his apartment. I knew he wouldn't mind, but it was still rude.
"Shower's in the back," he said, pointing vaguely and plopping down on the couch with his roommate, a guy named Julian who looked a bit like he wanted to be Sid Vicious.
Julian stared at us. No, he stared at Neil. "Hey," Julian said. "Aren't you-"
"No," Neil replied, deciding to sit on the floor rather than on the couch with the other two boys.
I shrugged and left them to go shower. I took my sweet time, enjoying the smells of Jay's shampoo and soap. I combed my hair with his comb, hoping to leave a couple of strands there to remind him of me, and exited to find Jay and Julian in the same place and Neil…
Neil was curled up against the wall, looking half-dead, like he was fighting off sleep.
"Your turn," I said to him, tossing a towel in his face. I had to help him to his feet. This was just sad. "Need me to stand in there and make sure you don't bust your head open?" I teased him, hoping to get back a little bit of that Neil McCormick that I loved so much.
He took me by the wrist and locked me inside the bathroom with him.
"I was joking," I said flatly. "You're lucky Jay knows you're queer, or he'd probably be really pissed off right now."
"You offered," he said, pulling his shirt over his head by the collar.
Fuck, was he skinny. He was skinnier than I realized. I folded my arms across my chest and swallowed down the remorse I was feeling. All I could think was that he needed help and I was basically telling him to get the hell out. I felt like the worst person in the world.
He stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain shut, and the look on his face was unreadable but very… Well, I guess it would suffice to say that I didn't like it.
He didn't talk to me, he didn't sing (as if he ever did), he didn't say anything. He showered silently and as quickly as physically possible for his tired, tired limbs.
The water shut off, and he grabbed a towel and started drying himself from behind the curtain, and I decided to say something. "We can do this at home as soon as you pay the water bill."
"I get it, okay? Jesus," he grumbled, but his voice was strained, almost like he had been crying. "I just need some sleep. I'll look for a new job, and I'll pay your fucking water bill. Fuck."
"Neil? Are you-"
"No."
"You didn't even know what I was gonna say."
A long second... "The answer is still no."
He started sliding back into his clothes, and I realized that they hadn't been washed in a while. I hadn't gotten to them because he'd been wearing them so long.
…and I thought of that bloody shirt again.
"Neil."
He sat down on the toilet, rubbing his face with his hands. "What?"
"What's going on with you? Won't you please tell me now?"
"I'm fine."
I sighed and slid a hand into his wet hair. "I wish I could read your mind, since you sure as Hell won't tell me anything. You know how I'm going to worry about you no matter what you say."
…and he fell against me, arm snaking around my waist, and said, "I'm sorry…"
He had definitely been crying in the shower.
(Brian Lackey)
We stopped for the night in Columbia, Missouri at a Days Inn Hotel. After we checked in, we went to a Wendy's that wasn't far from our hotel and ate.
"If fast food is wrong, I don't want to be right," Eric said, sliding a French fry into his mouth. I smiled at him. "So, you've been pretty quiet the whole way. You're okay, right?"
"Stop worrying," I told him, dipping one of my fries into my frosty.
"You know I won't," he said.
I did know that, but really Eric shouldn't have been worrying. He was the only person in my life who could put me at ease and make me smile for real.
I looked over at the woman at the counter because she had been glaring at us whenever she had the time. "What's her problem?" I asked.
Eric snorted. "Apparently, you haven't been paying attention. This happens when I go anywhere with any guy. She thinks you and I are gay together and because that's offensive to her, she's going to try to set our heads on fire with her eyes… as if someone that ignorant would have that ability." He snickered.
"They just assume that?" I asked, blushing a little. It wasn't like I hadn't been called gay before, of course, since I did go to high school after all, but I'd never really taken that insult seriously before. It was mostly just something other kids said to nerds and geeks to make them feel bad. To actually be thought of as such though, just because I was with Eric who happened to be that way was weird to me, and it made me think…
Was I?
After all, my first time had been with a guy and-
Shit.
"Hey. You okay?" Eric asked, noticing the look on my face.
"Let's get the Hell out of here," I mumbled, gathering up the rest of my food and throwing it away. If I looked at the food a moment longer, if I stayed in there with my thoughts a moment longer, I was going to be sick… really sick. My tongue tasted like him again.
Eric followed me out into the parking lot, catching me by the shoulder before I reached the car. "Hey… I'm sorry if I said anything that made you uncomfortable."
I looked at him, the streetlight's beam making him seem pale and otherworldly. "You didn't," I mumbled. "I'm just… I'm just tired. Let's go to the hotel."
The room had two beds and it was kind of gross looking, but neither of us seemed to mind. I collapsed into the bed on the far side of the room, humming lightly into the pillow, and Eric chuckled at me, flipping on the light.
"You are wiped out, aren't you?" he said, sitting on the side of his bed to unlace his shoes. "So, I hope you don't mind that we're sharing the room. I mean, I thought that maybe you would, but there are two beds at least, so…"
I lifted my head off the pillow, adjusting my glasses that had gone crooked when I face-planted. "Eric. It's fine." I laughed at him because of how ridiculous he was being. He was babbling like a fool and more nervous than I was. He was a lot more innocent then he let on, whether he was a virgin or not.
Eric smiled guiltily and tugged his boots off. "Sorry."
I told him it was fine because it always was, and climbed off the bed to unzip my suitcase and dig out my pajamas. I paused, thinking of how I'd worked on this particular pair of pajama pants to get out a lemon-colored stain.
"Um… Eric?"
"What's up?" He tossed his shoes to the end of the bed and started unzipping his duffel bag.
I blushed and wet my lips, humiliated. "Um… you should know… sometimes I kind of… wet the bed."
I waited for a snicker and an "are you serious?" but it never came, and that was why Eric was my best friend…
"Well, there are some extra sheets in the closet, so if you do, just wake me up, and I'll help you make the bed again."
Actually, that was why.
"I just… I didn't want you to get all grossed out."
He smiled that genuine smile that I wished I had. "As long as you're not getting up and pissing on me then I won't be grossed out, and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't do something like that unless I did something to deserve it."
"Thanks, Eric."
"No need for thanks," he said, tugging his shirt over his head. "We all have things we do that we get self-conscious about. I'm not about to hold that against you. It's like I said before, 'when you gotta go, you gotta go,' and it's not like you can control it when you're asleep, right?"
"I guess."
He was trying to make me feel better, and even though it was a lie, it did help me out. He pulled a plain black t-shirt over his head and slipped out of his jeans and padded into the bathroom to wash off his eyeliner. I finished dressing in my pajamas and crawled under the kind of stiff and not very soft comforter of the bed. It was still somewhat early, but I felt sleep tugging at me from every end, and I was perfectly happy to oblige.
Tomorrow would be a new day, I told myself. Tomorrow would be the beginning of my rebirth. Tomorrow I'd figure out what I wanted to say to Neil.
Tonight though was not tomorrow, and I found that because of that, I still dreamed.
I still dreamed of that blue security light and of young, beautiful, ethereal Neil McCormick leaning in to kiss me. I still dreamed of that man's hands touching me and touching me. I still dreamed of the look on his face when he made me do things to him that I never wanted to do to anyone, that I couldn't understand why anyone would want to have that done to them. I still dreamed of his mouth on me and my mouth on him and of Neil's mouth and of that living room and the roaring in my ears and the blood in my nose and the sickness and the wondering and the not wanting to wonder and then the not wanting to know and the tears and the wishing I was dead and the fantasies of death and of the sounds that weren't me but were coming from me and of Neil McCormick and that pained look on his face and
"Shh, shhh…"
I was writhing around and screaming. I must have been because Eric was there in my bed, holding my head to his chest and shushing my wails. He stroked my hair and 'shh'ed over and over again, and I whimpered and cried against him wondering what time it was and what was real and what was all in my head and when he had been woken up by me.
"I'm sorry," I stammered and choked. "S-sorry, I-"
"Shh… it's okay. Don't worry," he whispered, pressing his cheek in my hair and rocking me side to side.
I let out another sob… and it came to me that every time this had happened to me, every time I'd woken in desperation, screams in the back of my throat and all kinds of terrible ideas poking through my brain, hands clawing at the sheet to grip onto something, anything… I'd been alone. No one had been there to catch me when I fell down and shattered again, but here Eric was, clutching to me, holding my haphazard pieces together to the best of his ability, and I didn't even ask him to.
Eric was far too good a friend to be Neil's friend, I thought idly. He had even been the one to remind me to call my mom before we went to eat and wouldn't let me duck out of it. All it had taken was a reminder that he couldn't call his mother anymore. I felt like because of Eric, my relationship with my mom would mend too. Eric was the glue holding me together.
I calmed down and came back to my senses. I stopped making those pathetic little noises that Neil had talked about and just leaned into his shoulder. For a second I half-expected a family to come inside, find us sitting there, and stare until we left, but I remembered that this was not Neil McCormick, and this was not Hutchinson, Kansas, and this was not Coach's house.
"Here, come on, get up," Eric mumbled, and I did, realizing my pants were sticking to me when I did. I gazed at the clock to see a blurry red number since I wasn't wearing my glasses. "How about you go get in the shower, okay? I'll… I'll make this bed up, and you can sleep in the other one, okay? Um…"
"Eric," I whimpered, wiping at my eyes. He placed my glasses on my face as I moved my hands, and his visage came in to me clearly. He had tears pricking at the edges of his eyes because he was just so worried about me that he couldn't help it…
"What is it?" he asked, brushing hair out of my eyes like a mom.
I sniffed, thankful that there was no blood there, and said, "Coach Heider molested me."
Author: osaki_nana_707
Pairings/Characters: Wendy, Neil, OC Jay, OC Julian, Brian, Eric, WendyxOC Jay, BrianxEric
Rating: light R
Warnings:language, mentions of abuse, drug abuse, sexual situations
Summary: Brian's not through with Neil. Neil's not through destroying himself.
Read
Chapter 7
(Wendy Peterson)
Something was wrong with Neil McCormick… something more wrong than I ever could have imagined. It was becoming abundantly clear that he wasn't just suffering from a drug addiction. Something else was eating away at him, devouring him from the inside out, and whatever drug he was using all the time was being used to dull away the pain of being chewed on and swallowed. I almost felt guilty for putting him on the spot like that only to watch him start crumbling, but that was Neil McCormick… sucking me in with his black-hole heart.
What was wrong I couldn't know, but I couldn't help but get the sickening feeling that it had something to do with that bloody shirt crammed into the back corner of his dresser. At first I hoped that it wasn't someone else's blood, for fear he got too pissed off at someone and killed them, but then my fear was magnified over the idea that it might have been his. He had never mentioned it (of course not, it was Neil after alll), but I expected I would have seen something…
…but I had seen something. I'd been seeing a lot of things… the bruises and scratches, the shutting down, the drug use, the self-destruction… Clearly, something had gone terribly, terribly wrong either in Hutchinson or before, and I had stupidly not noticed… so I couldn't help but feel guilty, threatening to kick out my best friend who was currently in the middle of falling apart.
Still, there was a point when a person could only take so much. I was physically unable to keep working until I dropped just to be able to make rent and utilities, especially for even that to not be enough. I couldn't afford to let him keep leeching off of me like a parasite. I also couldn't allow myself to encourage his self-destruction anymore because, after all, I loved him. It was hard to know why I would at this point, but I did.
When we reached Jay's apartment, it seemed like Neil could barely stand up, legs wobbly underneath him. His hands were in his pockets, and I couldn't help but wonder if his hands were still shaking.
I wondered what he was thinking about.
Jay swung open the door with a smile. Neil gave him a quick onceover, and I could tell that he didn't like him because he never liked any of the boys I dated in the past. Jay wasn't particularly good looking, but I thought that he was so cool with his bleached white hair shaved short at the sides and his tongue piercing.
"Hey, Wendy," he greeted, leaning out and placing a kiss on my forehead. Neil made a low sound in his throat, threatening his disapproval at the man. He gave Neil a look of confusion, and if Neil realized how he himself looked, he wouldn't have been judging Jay so harshly. "Who's this?"
"This is Neil, my roommate. He insisted on coming along this time."
"Oh, well, hey," Jay said, extending his hand to shake.
Neil stared at his hand all decked out in rings and nail polish for a long second before taking it. His hands were still shaking a little.
"Nice to meet you, Neil. I've heard a lot about you," Jay said.
Neil grunted in response.
"So, what brings you two here?"
"Could we maybe use your shower? Dumbass here didn't pay the water bill, and I have to work tomorrow morning, so I'd like to be clean."
He opened the door and gestured to let both of us in. Neil was lighting up a cigarette, not caring whether or not Jay wanted people smoking in his apartment. I knew he wouldn't mind, but it was still rude.
"Shower's in the back," he said, pointing vaguely and plopping down on the couch with his roommate, a guy named Julian who looked a bit like he wanted to be Sid Vicious.
Julian stared at us. No, he stared at Neil. "Hey," Julian said. "Aren't you-"
"No," Neil replied, deciding to sit on the floor rather than on the couch with the other two boys.
I shrugged and left them to go shower. I took my sweet time, enjoying the smells of Jay's shampoo and soap. I combed my hair with his comb, hoping to leave a couple of strands there to remind him of me, and exited to find Jay and Julian in the same place and Neil…
Neil was curled up against the wall, looking half-dead, like he was fighting off sleep.
"Your turn," I said to him, tossing a towel in his face. I had to help him to his feet. This was just sad. "Need me to stand in there and make sure you don't bust your head open?" I teased him, hoping to get back a little bit of that Neil McCormick that I loved so much.
He took me by the wrist and locked me inside the bathroom with him.
"I was joking," I said flatly. "You're lucky Jay knows you're queer, or he'd probably be really pissed off right now."
"You offered," he said, pulling his shirt over his head by the collar.
Fuck, was he skinny. He was skinnier than I realized. I folded my arms across my chest and swallowed down the remorse I was feeling. All I could think was that he needed help and I was basically telling him to get the hell out. I felt like the worst person in the world.
He stepped into the shower, pulling the curtain shut, and the look on his face was unreadable but very… Well, I guess it would suffice to say that I didn't like it.
He didn't talk to me, he didn't sing (as if he ever did), he didn't say anything. He showered silently and as quickly as physically possible for his tired, tired limbs.
The water shut off, and he grabbed a towel and started drying himself from behind the curtain, and I decided to say something. "We can do this at home as soon as you pay the water bill."
"I get it, okay? Jesus," he grumbled, but his voice was strained, almost like he had been crying. "I just need some sleep. I'll look for a new job, and I'll pay your fucking water bill. Fuck."
"Neil? Are you-"
"No."
"You didn't even know what I was gonna say."
A long second... "The answer is still no."
He started sliding back into his clothes, and I realized that they hadn't been washed in a while. I hadn't gotten to them because he'd been wearing them so long.
…and I thought of that bloody shirt again.
"Neil."
He sat down on the toilet, rubbing his face with his hands. "What?"
"What's going on with you? Won't you please tell me now?"
"I'm fine."
I sighed and slid a hand into his wet hair. "I wish I could read your mind, since you sure as Hell won't tell me anything. You know how I'm going to worry about you no matter what you say."
…and he fell against me, arm snaking around my waist, and said, "I'm sorry…"
He had definitely been crying in the shower.
(Brian Lackey)
We stopped for the night in Columbia, Missouri at a Days Inn Hotel. After we checked in, we went to a Wendy's that wasn't far from our hotel and ate.
"If fast food is wrong, I don't want to be right," Eric said, sliding a French fry into his mouth. I smiled at him. "So, you've been pretty quiet the whole way. You're okay, right?"
"Stop worrying," I told him, dipping one of my fries into my frosty.
"You know I won't," he said.
I did know that, but really Eric shouldn't have been worrying. He was the only person in my life who could put me at ease and make me smile for real.
I looked over at the woman at the counter because she had been glaring at us whenever she had the time. "What's her problem?" I asked.
Eric snorted. "Apparently, you haven't been paying attention. This happens when I go anywhere with any guy. She thinks you and I are gay together and because that's offensive to her, she's going to try to set our heads on fire with her eyes… as if someone that ignorant would have that ability." He snickered.
"They just assume that?" I asked, blushing a little. It wasn't like I hadn't been called gay before, of course, since I did go to high school after all, but I'd never really taken that insult seriously before. It was mostly just something other kids said to nerds and geeks to make them feel bad. To actually be thought of as such though, just because I was with Eric who happened to be that way was weird to me, and it made me think…
Was I?
After all, my first time had been with a guy and-
Shit.
"Hey. You okay?" Eric asked, noticing the look on my face.
"Let's get the Hell out of here," I mumbled, gathering up the rest of my food and throwing it away. If I looked at the food a moment longer, if I stayed in there with my thoughts a moment longer, I was going to be sick… really sick. My tongue tasted like him again.
Eric followed me out into the parking lot, catching me by the shoulder before I reached the car. "Hey… I'm sorry if I said anything that made you uncomfortable."
I looked at him, the streetlight's beam making him seem pale and otherworldly. "You didn't," I mumbled. "I'm just… I'm just tired. Let's go to the hotel."
The room had two beds and it was kind of gross looking, but neither of us seemed to mind. I collapsed into the bed on the far side of the room, humming lightly into the pillow, and Eric chuckled at me, flipping on the light.
"You are wiped out, aren't you?" he said, sitting on the side of his bed to unlace his shoes. "So, I hope you don't mind that we're sharing the room. I mean, I thought that maybe you would, but there are two beds at least, so…"
I lifted my head off the pillow, adjusting my glasses that had gone crooked when I face-planted. "Eric. It's fine." I laughed at him because of how ridiculous he was being. He was babbling like a fool and more nervous than I was. He was a lot more innocent then he let on, whether he was a virgin or not.
Eric smiled guiltily and tugged his boots off. "Sorry."
I told him it was fine because it always was, and climbed off the bed to unzip my suitcase and dig out my pajamas. I paused, thinking of how I'd worked on this particular pair of pajama pants to get out a lemon-colored stain.
"Um… Eric?"
"What's up?" He tossed his shoes to the end of the bed and started unzipping his duffel bag.
I blushed and wet my lips, humiliated. "Um… you should know… sometimes I kind of… wet the bed."
I waited for a snicker and an "are you serious?" but it never came, and that was why Eric was my best friend…
"Well, there are some extra sheets in the closet, so if you do, just wake me up, and I'll help you make the bed again."
Actually, that was why.
"I just… I didn't want you to get all grossed out."
He smiled that genuine smile that I wished I had. "As long as you're not getting up and pissing on me then I won't be grossed out, and I'm pretty sure you wouldn't do something like that unless I did something to deserve it."
"Thanks, Eric."
"No need for thanks," he said, tugging his shirt over his head. "We all have things we do that we get self-conscious about. I'm not about to hold that against you. It's like I said before, 'when you gotta go, you gotta go,' and it's not like you can control it when you're asleep, right?"
"I guess."
He was trying to make me feel better, and even though it was a lie, it did help me out. He pulled a plain black t-shirt over his head and slipped out of his jeans and padded into the bathroom to wash off his eyeliner. I finished dressing in my pajamas and crawled under the kind of stiff and not very soft comforter of the bed. It was still somewhat early, but I felt sleep tugging at me from every end, and I was perfectly happy to oblige.
Tomorrow would be a new day, I told myself. Tomorrow would be the beginning of my rebirth. Tomorrow I'd figure out what I wanted to say to Neil.
Tonight though was not tomorrow, and I found that because of that, I still dreamed.
I still dreamed of that blue security light and of young, beautiful, ethereal Neil McCormick leaning in to kiss me. I still dreamed of that man's hands touching me and touching me. I still dreamed of the look on his face when he made me do things to him that I never wanted to do to anyone, that I couldn't understand why anyone would want to have that done to them. I still dreamed of his mouth on me and my mouth on him and of Neil's mouth and of that living room and the roaring in my ears and the blood in my nose and the sickness and the wondering and the not wanting to wonder and then the not wanting to know and the tears and the wishing I was dead and the fantasies of death and of the sounds that weren't me but were coming from me and of Neil McCormick and that pained look on his face and
"Shh, shhh…"
I was writhing around and screaming. I must have been because Eric was there in my bed, holding my head to his chest and shushing my wails. He stroked my hair and 'shh'ed over and over again, and I whimpered and cried against him wondering what time it was and what was real and what was all in my head and when he had been woken up by me.
"I'm sorry," I stammered and choked. "S-sorry, I-"
"Shh… it's okay. Don't worry," he whispered, pressing his cheek in my hair and rocking me side to side.
I let out another sob… and it came to me that every time this had happened to me, every time I'd woken in desperation, screams in the back of my throat and all kinds of terrible ideas poking through my brain, hands clawing at the sheet to grip onto something, anything… I'd been alone. No one had been there to catch me when I fell down and shattered again, but here Eric was, clutching to me, holding my haphazard pieces together to the best of his ability, and I didn't even ask him to.
Eric was far too good a friend to be Neil's friend, I thought idly. He had even been the one to remind me to call my mom before we went to eat and wouldn't let me duck out of it. All it had taken was a reminder that he couldn't call his mother anymore. I felt like because of Eric, my relationship with my mom would mend too. Eric was the glue holding me together.
I calmed down and came back to my senses. I stopped making those pathetic little noises that Neil had talked about and just leaned into his shoulder. For a second I half-expected a family to come inside, find us sitting there, and stare until we left, but I remembered that this was not Neil McCormick, and this was not Hutchinson, Kansas, and this was not Coach's house.
"Here, come on, get up," Eric mumbled, and I did, realizing my pants were sticking to me when I did. I gazed at the clock to see a blurry red number since I wasn't wearing my glasses. "How about you go get in the shower, okay? I'll… I'll make this bed up, and you can sleep in the other one, okay? Um…"
"Eric," I whimpered, wiping at my eyes. He placed my glasses on my face as I moved my hands, and his visage came in to me clearly. He had tears pricking at the edges of his eyes because he was just so worried about me that he couldn't help it…
"What is it?" he asked, brushing hair out of my eyes like a mom.
I sniffed, thankful that there was no blood there, and said, "Coach Heider molested me."