Chapter Three

                                    

                                          
**This has not been edited or proofread.**
Cassidy
I blush stole across my cheeks when I stepped into my English class and saw Alan there. The classroom was still mostly empty; I hardly ever showed up this early, which was probably why I hadn't noticed him before.
Or maybe it was because lately, he was all I could freaking think about—the way his hand felt on mine, the strength clearly displayed in his arms, back, and shoulders, his crooked smile...
The man was absolutely dreamy.
Feeling my eyes on him, he looked up, and instantly, that crooked grin stole over his face. He patted the spot next to him, and with my cheeks heated even more than they'd been before, I made my way over to him.
"Fancy seeing you here," he teased.
I quietly laughed and set my bag down before dropping into the chair next to him. "No one sits here?"
He shrugged. "My friend Callum does, but he'll deal. I'm sure there's plenty of girls that would pay to be able to sit next to him." He laughed quietly and shook his head. "Guy is the biggest player I've ever known."
"You two been friends long?"
Alan shrugged. "Since freshman year. We're on the football team together. All of us guys are friends, I guess you could say. But I'm not really into all the parties they go to and throw. I like to kind of stick to myself."
I frowned. That hadn't seemed like him, and suddenly, I felt like a jerk from judging a book by its cover. "So, no close friends?"
He laughed. "Oh, no. I definitely have a best friend. His name is Drew; we room together. But he's as lame as I am."
It didn't take long for students to begin filtering into the classroom, and we fell into a comfortable silence together, waiting for the class to start.
~*~*~
"Hey, you wanna grab coffee and go for a ride?" Alan asked once we were packing up, both of us choosing to wait until everyone filed out of the classroom before trying to leave.
I smiled at him, getting that warm, fuzzy feeling in my chest. "Sure. This is my only class of the day anyway."
He grinned. "Cool. Come on."
We walked over to the food court and grabbed Starbucks before heading out to the parking garage. I gaped at his truck. It was lifted with shiny rims that I could honestly do my makeup in and huge tires. The entire black truck gleamed.
He sheepishly rubbed the back of his neck. "She's kind of my pride and joy."
I shrugged. "I love your truck."
He smiled at me as he opened the passenger door. "Really? My parents bought me the truck, but Drew and I did everything on it." He pointed to an older Honda Civic that looked decked out for a race track. "That's his."
"You two are super talented."
A little bit of redness stole over his cheeks as I hefted myself into his truck. Once he was in on his side, he continued the conversation while he backed out of the park and made his way out of the parking garage. "We both wanted to work on cars when we graduated, but both of our parents wanted us to have degrees. So, we're majoring in business. We hope to open our own shop one day."
"That's pretty brilliant. Nothing better than doing what you love and getting to work for yourself."
He shook his head. "Trust me, I know. I hate taking orders."
I snickered. "Bet you gave your mom all kind of crap growing up."
He flashed me an innocent look that I could instantly see through. "Who, me?"
I barked out a laugh.
~*~*~
He pulled into a field and cut the engine. "We're here."
I frowned. "A field?" I asked. I hadn't sat in one of these since I left home. They used to be my sanctuary; a place where no one would bother me. It was just me, the moon, and the stars.
He cringed. "Sorry; I can definitely go somewhere else. I just thought you might like peace and quiet—"
I shook my head, my throat suddenly tight. "It's great," I croaked, my voice thick with tears.
I hopped out of the truck before he could say anything and rubbed at my chest, staring up at the sky. I jumped when Alan suddenly set his hand on my shoulder, his eyes intent on mine, now blocking my view of the beautiful moon.
"You okay?" he gently asked.
I swallowed thickly and nodded. "I came from Georgia," I softly explained. "It's a long story, but this—a field was always my safe spot."
He grabbed my hand in his, linking our fingers together. "Come on."
He helped me into the back of his truck, and together, we spread out blankets and pillows. Then, we lounged together, both of us extremely close. I felt it every time he inhaled.
"You want to talk about it?" he quietly asked me.
I licked my suddenly dry lips. Did I? I never had before—not to anyone but my therapist, anyway. But suddenly, I felt this insane need to tell someone all my dark secrets—but not just anyone.
I wanted to tell Alan.
"My mom was extremely neglectful," I quietly began. "Dad left us when I was a kid." I drew in a deep breath, twisting a loose piece of thread on my shirt on my finger. "I used to be really upset about it, but then I saw him with this new family, and I just... I was angry."
"You had every right to be," Alan told me softly, understanding in his voice.
"Mom was so lost inside her head most days. Depression—she might as well have already been dead, to tell you the truth. She never came out of her room. I used to have to go in there and bathe her myself to get rid of the stench. There was never food in the house. We got food stamps, but she never knew where her card was, and anytime I searched, I couldn't ever find it either."
"Did she ever get help?"
I shook my head. "Never. I learned to fend for myself at a really young age. And I kept my mouth shut at school about my mom because I didn't want people to find out and take me away. I'd heard too many horror stories about foster care. I figured home was better than what some of those kids went through."
I rubbed my arms. "I used to release all my pent up pain and anger by cutting. God, the release—it felt so good for those few seconds."
Alan's hand covered mine. "What made you stop?"
I looked up at him. "I vowed to be better than my mother. So, when I got to school here—by Greyhound, by the way—" his eyes expressed how surprised and proud of me he was, "I went to the school counselor here. And she helped me get state insurance, and then she got me on medication. I wore a rubber band for months that I would snap until the urge went away and I no longer had to wear it anymore. I haven't cut in two years."
Alan's hand covered my cheek. "I'm so proud of you, Cassidy. So, so proud of you," he whispered.
His eyes glanced down at my lips before locking back on mine. I licked them and just slightly nodded my head.
And Alan took my first kiss, claiming my mouth in the sweetest, most delicate way possible.