Miss Me Not

"I think my mom needed an outlet. I'm gathering things didn't go all that well with your mom," he admitted.

"Do I need to call her?" I asked, dreading the thought.

"No, Mom said they'd worked out some kind of compromise where you get to stay with us for a few days," he said, avoiding my eyes.

"Otherwise translated, I'm not welcome at home," I said, seeing through his lie.

"Um, pretty much. Needless to say, there was a lot of swearing on Mom's end after the call ended. But trust me when I tell you my parents wanted you to stay with us for a few days anyway. Your mom just thinks it was her idea."

"That sounds like her. Hopefully, in a couple days, she'll calm down enough that I'll be able to talk to her," I stated, trying to sound confident while I ignored my panic over the idea of being homeless at seventeen, that just sounded bad.

"Don't worry, we'll work it out. My mom has a plan," Dean said, patting my leg reassuringly. "Trish laid out a pair of yoga pants and a sweatshirt for you if you want to take a quick shower, and then maybe we can go for a walk."

"That sounds perfect," I said, pushing my fears to the side for the moment.

"There's an extra toothbrush in the cabinet in the bathroom," Dean said as I made my way back up the stairs.

A half an hour later, I felt more human. The yoga pants Trish laid out for me were long in the legs since she was taller than me, but fit snugly across my butt since I had more curves than her. I pulled the hem of the sweatshirt down self-consciously as I made my way down the stairs. Dean looked at me appraisingly in my borrowed outfit and a small spike of pleasure shot through me. Despite everything, he was still here looking at me like I belonged here.

"Ready?" he asked, taking my hand.

"Sure," I answered, slipping on my shoes.

The air was crisp from a cold front that had obviously moved in while I was sleeping.

"Swing?" Dean asked, pointing to the tire swing.

"Yes," I answered, strolling that way.

"How are you feeling?" Dean asked as he held the tire still for me so I could climb on.

"Fine," I lied, falling back on my old secret-keeping habits.

"Madison?" he said, seeing through me.

I sighed. "Aren't you sick of all my drama yet?" I asked.

"Madison, nothing about you is drama. You're so much more. I wish you could see yourself the way I see you."

"And how is that?" I said as he swung me lightly back and forth.

"Smart, beautiful, stubborn, loyal," he answered. "Snippy for sure, but in a cute way," he added.

"Lay off the drugs. I think they're messing with your brain cells," I said uncomfortably.

"My brain is in perfect working order, and it knows what it likes," he said, tugging me over so that my back was nestled up against his chest. His arms encircled me, keeping me in place as I sat on the now stationary swing. Eventually, he asked me questions about my childhood, stuff I had glossed over the night before. With no more secrets between us, I opened up to him, answering each question honestly, even when it hurt. Despite their understanding, there was no denying that I had been a brat as a child, and a pain in the ass as preteen.

We were still on the swing an hour later when Sarah and Trish pulled into the driveway. Dean and I joined them by the car to help carry stuff in.

Sarah gave me a hard hug. "How are you doing?" she asked, looking at me with concern.

"Weird," I answered honestly. "I feel better that it's out there, but I feel weird that I just let it all pour out. I kind of feel like I betrayed someone's trust, even though it was my secrets that came out," I added in a rush.

She pulled me in for another hug. Her warmth spread through me, and I brought my arms up around her, returning the hug. "Thank you for listening," I said quietly, fighting tears.

"I'm honored you trusted me," she said, finally pulling back to look at me with bright eyes.

Trish gave me a hug next. I could tell Sarah had filled her in, but it didn't bug me. I had no more secrets to hide.