“Jeez, how many Disney movies do you own?” I asked with a laugh as Alyssa fanned out the other Disney movie options she had, deciding which one to put in next.

“Enough for the entire night, that’s for sure,” she answered happily. “What are your thoughts on Toy Story?” she asked, picking it out of her collection.

“Quality movie,” I gave her the “okay” symbol and smiled happily at the choice. Alyssa didn’t pick out the lovey-dovey Disney movies—like Cinderella or Alaadin—and, for that, I was grateful. We watched heartwarming movies like the Lion King and Toy Story, also picking up the funny adult humor that we didn’t understand back when we were ten and twelve years old.

We sat quietly, concentrating on the movies and how they were distracting us from the problems in our lives. However, I knew we would have to talk about them eventually. When Toy Story faded to black, I turned to Alyssa.

“Hey,” I started.

“Hello,” she smiled.

“Can we talk?”

“About?”

“Things,” I said vaguely. She swallowed, and then she mumbled something along the lines of “um, sure.” She looked nervous, as if she knew that I was going to bring up earlier.

She turned the television off with a click of the remote. “Alyssa, how was school today?” I asked.

“Good,” she said, but I knew she was lying. “Um, it was okay,” she corrected.

“Lissy, I have this horrible feeling that something is going on that you aren’t tell me,” I frowned. “Please talk to me if there is something,” I pressed. She bit her lip, and that was enough to prove my speculations correct.

“Alyssa,” I sighed, giving her a “look”. A I know something is up look.

“You really read me like a book,” she frowned, crossing her arms and furrowing her eyebrows.

“Not really, Lis. I had no idea you were having problems until last night. You hid it unfortunately well,” I frowned back.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Hey, I know it’s not easy,” I said. She shrugged her shoulders.

“They aren’t my friends,” she mumbled.

“What?”

“The people from this morning? You asked if they were my friends because I was looking at them, but I lied. They aren’t my friends, Vic,” she said, and then she began to cry.

“Aw, Alyssa,” I whispered, pulling her into my arms.

“High school fucking sucks,” she muttered.

“I know,” I agreed, rubbing her back gently. “Will you tell me about it?” I asked softly.

“No,” she sighed. “You don’t need to hear about my drama,” she sighed.

“And why not?

“Because you’re older and won’t care about high school students and their shenanigans,” she muttered.

“You don’t know that.”

“Vic, you’re nineteen years old. You’re past this point in your life. I’m just a silly seventeen year old,” she muttered.

“Alyssa Perry, stop that right now,” I scolded. “It doesn’t matter if it’s petty drama between friends or actual, physical or mental bullying, or whatever. If it hurts you, then it matters,” I declared. I picked up her arm and held it delicately in my hands. “There’s clearly something going on,” I said softly, tracing her arm carefully. “And I care, okay? I care,” I said.

She nodded slowly. “They just hate me for no reason, Vic,” she cried.

“No…” I whispered sadly. “Not you…” I frowned.

“What do you mean, not me?”

I shook my head. “I… I don’t believe it,” I furrowed my eyebrows. “How can they hate a girl like you? What did you ever do to them?” I asked rhetorically. This hit me hard, because I knew exactly how it felt to be hated for no reason. Alyssa didn’t deserve it.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “They just stopped being my friends suddenly,” she said. “You saw yourself, Vic. I had plenty of friends the beginning of the year. And then out of the blue…” her voice trailed off.

“I’m sorry, Lissy,” I said softly, rocking her a little back and forth. “I’m sorry I didn’t even notice. I always thought you were such a happy girl,” I muttered.

“It’s not your fault,” she said. “Like you said, I hid it well,” she shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t want to talk about it,” she muttered.

“You have to talk about it eventually, though, Lissy,” I said. “If something happens specifically, please tell me,” I urged. She nodded and bit her lip, as if she wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. I decided not to pressure her, though, hoping that she would tell me what was going on when she was ready.

“Do they hurt you, Lissy?” I asked carefully. Even though I wasn’t going to pressure her, I had to ask. I had to make sure. I flinched as a memory of being kicked, punched, and slammed into sharp corners crashed into my brain. I flinched again as the thought of people doing that to Alyssa invaded my mind.

She didn’t answer, she just frowned. “No,” I whispered sadly. “What do they do?”

A look of pain stuck her face. I held her cheek gently with my hand. “Lissy, what do they do?” I asked again. She shook her head, and I dropped my hand.

I held her arm in my hand and traced the scratches on her forearm. “How do they feel?” I murmured gently.
“They’re okay. I’m mad at myself. It’s like I get in these moods where I don’t give a fuck and I just do it, and then when I calm down I regret it, y’know?”

“I do know,” I whispered with a small nod.

“I never intended to become like this,” she frowned. “I’ve always been strong. I knew what went on with my brother, and I never really understood. I never lived like him. I have always been happy. I never really lived the kind of life Tony lived, until now. I never thought that I would become the punching bag,” she cried. “Why do people do that? Why me?” she whispered.

I frowned, tears of my own forming. “I don’t know, Lis,” I said. I wrapped my arms around her more securely and pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head. I rested my chin on the top of her head and sighed.

“It must run in the family,” she muttered. “I guess I’m just an easy target,” she sighed. “I don’t blame Tony though,” she added, and I was glad. “I don’t want to get as bad as he got, though. I really don’t want to be like this,” she cried.

“It’s okay,” I said. “You won’t get that bad. I won’t let that happen,” I said.

“Thank you,” she said, leaning her head into my shoulder.

“You don’t have to thank me, Lissy,” I said. I sighed a little as I let her get more comfortable. She had her hands on my shoulders and her head curled into my chest. Her knees were tucked in while she laid on my lap, and I kept an arm wrapped around her back and a hand protectively on the back of her leg, just above her knee. I held her as she cried softly, and I wondered when was the last time she let all of her emotions out like this, in a safe, harmless way.

“When ever you feel bad about something, you come to me, okay?”

She nodded. I lifted her chin up with my hand and looked into her eyes. I saw pain, and I also found a hint of an emotion that confused the hell out of me. “And if they… if they hurt you again, you tell me, alright? I will literally kick their asses,” I declared. She smiled softly and nodded again.

“Vic…” she went to say something, but her voice trailed off.

“Why do you keep doing that?” I asked.

“Doing what?” she asked, even though I knew she understood what I meant.

“You go to say something, but then you stop. You don’t have to be afraid of telling me something,” I said. “Just tell me,” I urged. A piece of hair fell in front of her face as she slightly looked down, and I moved it out of the way. “Just talk to me,” I whispered.

“I-I…” she shook her head. “I feel guilty,” she mumbled.

“Guilty? Lissy, you didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t believe for one second that you deserve their treatment, or this treatment,” I referred to the small cuts on her arms.

“I’m not guilty in the sense that I think I deserve being hit in school,” she mumbled, and her words, her small confession, made me frown. School was supposed to be a safe place, not a place where students physically hurt each other for their own personal pleasure.

“But I feel guilty for other things… the torture at school isn’t the only reason why I did this to myself…” she said slowly.

“What is the other reason?” I asked quietly.

“It’s not your fault. It’s mine. And then I feel guilty about it, so I hurt myself,” she said.

“What do you mean?” I didn’t understand.

Alyssa’s mouth twitched sadly, and she looked up at me with even sadder eyes. I saw her hand rise in my peripheral, and it was shaking until it made gentle contact with the side of my face.

“I don’t expect you to understand,” she said quietly. She went to drop her hand, but, strangely, I liked how it felt there. I covered it with my own. I reached up and gently stroked her cheek with my other hand. “Vic, I…” her voice trailed off yet again, and she averted her eyes from mine.

“Lissy,” I whispered. “Look at me,” I said. She shyly looked up, her eyes connecting with mine.

She bit her lip subconsciously, and, suddenly, I understood. A small part of me knew the whole time.

I couldn’t stop myself as I leaned forward, fearlessly moving the connection of our eyes to the connection of our lips. The kiss was fierce, and I found myself smiling into it. I felt Lissy smile back, so I knew that I was right.

I remembered when I first kissed Bree. Everything about it was slow and wonderful. My heart ached for her, and a sting of guilt slashed through me, but then I remembered Alyssa. The way we kissed was not as slow, but it was just as wonderful. It was passionate and strong and even a little needy.

I didn’t think about anything. I knew I’d feel guilty later, and I finally understood what Alyssa meant when she said she felt guilty, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. None of that seemed to matter. I held the side of her face strongly with my hand, while my other hand snaked around her waist, traveling to her back. Instinct took over as I pushed her back gently.

“Is this really happening?” she whispered against my lips. I pulled back a little and stared at her, my eyes studying her features. I smiled softly.

“I… I think so,” I whispered back. She smiled and wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me back down. Her hands tangled in my hair, while mine played with the ends of her hair as my elbows propped me up above her.

“Are you sure this is okay?” she asked shakily as my hands traveled down to her hips.

“Are you sure this is okay?” I repeated her question, resting my mouth on her jaw as we caught our breath.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. “But it feels right,” she said.

I nodded, planting a kiss where my lips rested. “I agree.”

Notes

oMG

what have I done?????????/
Im conflicted beyond belief!!

I never thought I would have to say this, but... WHAT TEAM ARE YOU GUYS ON? COMMENT BELOW!

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Yay for awkward self promotion: check out my new story if you haven't already! "The Concrete Night" :D