We The Pretty Stars (Court High 4)

“Yeah, it was.” His tone hardened, his expression as well. He swallowed. “So they went. Went without me and Dad, but that was okay. I wanted that, too. Wanted them to have fun, but things got so worse after they left. My fever was crazy… I was only seven. I…”

He didn’t finish, and I held his hand, feeling he needed that.

He closed his mouth against my skin. “I got scared, Em. I got freaked because I thought I was going to die and I wanted to see my mom and sister. I wanted them home with me and was such a fucking brat. I begged my dad to call them, lost my mind until he did, and he didn’t even need to. He had it covered. He was taking care of me, but I still wanted more.”

“Royal—”

“They died that night.” The words shot through me, the tears falling down from my eyes but not from his. He wouldn’t let that happened, absolutely shaking in front of me. His nostrils flared. “A snowstorm. They couldn’t catch a flight in the weather, so they rented a car and drove to get my bitch ass—”

“Don’t say that about yourself.” I brought his head to me, forcing his forehead against mine. I’d make him listen to me. He had to. I shook him. “You were a child, you hear me? What happened to them was not your fault. You were just a kid.”

“A kid with blood on my hands.” He forced my hands away, gripping them. “And child or not, that’s truth. I don’t deserve to have any memories of them. I need to let go. I don’t deserve…”

What did he deserve, then? Was it pain? The beatings inflicted on him by his father in result of all this? Did he deserve to have all the happy times fall away with their memories? This may not be true, but he sure felt that way. He honestly felt he deserved it all.

Things made so much sense now.

In a single motion, he was off my bed, but in a second I had his arm. He wasn’t going to run from this. He wasn’t going to run from me.

“Well, I won’t let you forget,” I urged, grabbing him and throwing my arms around him. His body shook, absolutely quivering in my arms. He was a simmering volcano, only two seconds from the brink of eruption. I pressed my lips to his ear. “I’m going to make you hold on to them, you hear me? You’re going to keep every moment, every feeling, because I won’t let you forget the good things. I refuse.”

An ache rumbled deep within him, his hard chest pressed against mine. “I can’t.”

“You can.” I pulled him away, making him look at me. “You don’t deserve the beatings. You don’t deserve the pain from your dad and all this guilt. Your sister and mom loved you, and I didn’t know them, but if they saw what you were doing now, Royal… How you were trying to let go of them because you feel like you deserve it…”

He blinked, his face so cloudy because I was crying. Actual sobs coming from my throat. I couldn’t breathe, and something told me he was having a hard time too, his big body shuddering for breaths.

“It’d hurt them, Royal.” In the end, he touched me, curling a finger and catching my tears. I shook my head. “It’d pain them so much. Don’t you love them?”

“I do,” he said, the words light and barely heard. They were filled to the brink with emotion and he gazed away.

I brought him back with a touch. “Then you can’t forget. Who will remember the good things if you don’t?”

His dad? The man was already lost to his anger, his hate clearly. I mean, look what he did and was still doing to his son? Royal said he used to be so nice. Maybe even like who my dad used to be before my mom died. Pain brought terrible out in people, but he didn’t need to be like his dad. He didn’t need to be cold and unfeeling to the world.

He braced my face. “I’m scared. Scared to lose them.”

“Then don’t.” I touched his other cheek. “Forgive yourself. Heal and be free. There’s no space for them if you don’t release all this you have pent up and let them through. They’ll leave, and you don’t want that.”

“I don’t.” Agony laced his shaken words, and I pulled my arms around him, tugged him into me.

“I won’t let you forget them,” I told him, holding him close. “You won’t.”

“Promise?” His hands curled into my skin, his mouth in my hair. “I don’t want to forget.”

Then he won’t. He’d get through this pain. He’d let everything but what truly mattered—his sister and his mom—go, and I’d made sure of that.

I’d promise him that.

Twelve

December

My night was filled with lots of tears. Mostly on my end as I finally got Royal to open up and see the truth. Together, we got him to see his truth. He’d been blinded for so long. He’d been in the depths of so much pain both physical and mental. His dad had kept him there, but he wouldn’t anymore. I’d love Royal as harshly and beautifully as he deserved to be loved, with as harsh and beautiful as I knew he loved me. I’d do that, and I’d keep doing it over and over again. Lather, rise, repeat. I’d do it until it sunk in.

I’d do that forever.

We held hands together on a Sunday morning, sitting in his car in the middle of a quiet street. With all downtown businesses closed, it was the perfect time to visit his dad’s jewelry store, end this. I knew that cell phone was somewhere inside that store. I just had a feeling. Eventually, we weren’t alone anymore when another car pulled up right behind us. We parked down the street, discrete. Royal started to let go of my hand, but I held on, kissing it.