Clash Read Free Page B

really stuck with me came from Dylan that morning. He actually noticed me, not to call me some dorky name, but to compliment me in his own way.
    After school, Casey insisted I spend the night at her house. I knew John wouldn’t miss me. It was Friday, and by this time he was already three sheets to the wind. After last night, it was probably best I stayed away.
     
    ***
     
    Sunlight shone through the window heating my skin. It felt so nice. The big cozy, plush blanket formed a cocoon of safety and I didn’t want it to end. I loved the mornings I woke up at Casey’s house. I loved the smells, the sounds, and knowing that no matter what, no one here would hurt me.
    Just as I began to fall back to sleep, I heard raised voices filter through the hallway. Lifting my head just enough to hear better, I focused on the conversation.
    “Tell me who the hell he is Casey…now!” Dylan sounded angry.
    The voices seemed to come closer, and I no longer had to focus as hard to hear them clearly.
    “Dylan, please just let it go. You really have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s none of your business.”
    There was a pause, then Dylan spoke again. “If you don’t tell me who the fucking punk is who’s hurting her, I’ll ask her myself. Really, Casey, is she that lonely, that desperate to have a boyfriend that she would let him beat on her? Is her self-esteem that low?”
    My stomach lurched, and I suddenly felt the room was closing in around me. My safe harbor had now become the one place I needed to escape. Hearing Dylan call me desperate was hurtful. The only thing I had been desperate for was a life without terror.
    “Just stop, Dylan!” Casey raised her voice to be heard over her brother’s irate rambling. “You need to leave her alone.”
    By this time I had gathered my bag and held my car keys in my fist. I could feel my body trembling with fear and shame. I just needed to get out.
    As I reached for the door handle, the door opened and Casey and Dylan filled the doorframe. They both looked back at me in surprise.
    “I am going to head home,” I told Casey in a low, embarrassed voice. Without waiting for either of them to say anything, I pushed past them and darted down the hallway toward the front door. Through the pounding in my ears, I didn’t hear either one of them moving to catch up. Just as I reached out for the door, Dylan placed his hand on my arm to stop me. “Payton, I can’t sit back and let some guy hurt you like this. You deserve better.”
    I looked up into his eyes, and felt nothing but empty inside. “If only that were true,” I whispered. I walked through the front door and Casey rushed after me, crying. She hugged me to her tightly.
    With a pleading look she said, “You don’t have to leave. You can stay another night. I can talk to my mom, Payton. Maybe you can stay even longer than that. Please don’t go back there. Please. I worry about you. You need to get help.”
    Over her shoulder, Dylan was standing on the porch watching us. I loved that Casey wanted to protect me, but I had to go. “Don’t worry about me. I’ll be okay…I’ll call you later.” I released my hold on her and walked toward my car.
    I didn’t go straight home. Instead, I drove around for an hour just thinking. I needed to calm down before I faced the storm. Weekends were usually pretty bad; because he didn't have to work, the days were a constant drinking binge. Who needed food when he had whiskey?
    It was about noon when I pulled into the driveway; his truck was gone. Maybe he never came home last night. Maybe he stayed at one of his loser friends’ house after a night at the bars.
    I went inside and found the house a mess. Empty beer cans and half-eaten bags of chips were strewn across the coffee table. An empty pizza box was tipped over on the kitchen floor as if it had fallen from the counter.
    I began gathering the garbage and throwing it into a bag. I didn’t want to give him any reason to be angry