Chapter 42

Lilly's POV 13 Years Old

I had been trying my best to keep a smile on my face all day, but it was getting really hard to keep up the facade. I was with Sutter and a few of our friends and we were enjoying a snow day, which are very rare in Oklahoma.

Things at home we're starting to get exceedingly worse, and it was really hard for me to come terms with the fact that my own father detested me. I had no idea what I had done to deserve such poor treatment. I wanted to figure out what I could do to make things better.

Sutter had showed up at my house this morning and told me to get on some warm clothes, we were going sledding with a bunch of our friends at the park. And while I appreciated the invitation, and loved spending time with Sut, I just wasn't in the mood for acting like everything was okay when it wasn't.

He hadn't taken no for an answer though when I wouldn't give him a reason on why I didn't want to go. He pushed his way into my house and went upstairs to my room, picking out my warm clothes to put on. When he told me it wouldn't be fun without me, and kissed me on the lips, I caved.

"Are you sure everything's alright?" Sutter asked, and his voice cracked in the middle of his question. His body was starting to go through changes, and I couldn't help but realize how handsome he was becoming, even more so.

I nodded my head at him. "Yeah, everything's fine."

"And you're not mad at me?"

"Why would I be mad at you?"

"I don't know, you've been different lately. Not yourself."

I know I have to tell him something, I have to make something up that seems believable. So I decide to tell something that's true, but still skirt around the real reason as well. "My dad has just been really hard on me lately, especially since you and I started dating."

I use the term 'dating' loosely, because there wasn't much dating that two thirteen year olds could do. But we did spend a lot of time together, like always. Except now our parents seemed to be worried about it. I say our, but what I really mean is my parents. More specifically, my father. Sutter's parents couldn't have been happier, especially his mom who claims she knew we were meant to be together from the moment we met.

My father on the other hand started telling me if I had a boyfriend so young, I was going to stop caring about the things that truly mattered that much sooner. He already criticized everything I did, but it was even more intense now. I couldn't make a single mistake without it being blamed on my new relationship with Sutter.

In truth though nothing had changed, except the title of our relationship. We spent just as much time together when we had been friends. My father didn't see it that way, though.

I brought home a report card, all As, and a 3.89 grade average. But that wasn't enough for him, it should have been a perfect 4.0, and there was no excuse.

I had a swim meet against our instate rivals a couple weeks ago, and I won first place in every single one of my races. I even made the local newspaper and they had my picture on the front page, for breaking state records at the age of thirteen. My dad circled my race times in the paper, and made sure to let me know they were slower than my overall best.

Did I mention I was swimming against kids who were eighteen?

I couldn't tell anyone this though or vent to them, because then that would just bring up more questions. Questions I wasn't willing to answer.

"He'll get over it eventually Lil, every father is always protective of their daughter when they get their first boyfriend." He tried to reassure me and I mustered up all my strength to give him a fake smile.

I did end up having fun though, and we laughed our asses off when Jesse forgot to roll off his sled and he ran into a tree at the bottom of them hill. After we knew he wasn't seriously hurt, of course.

Sutter had just pushed Nadine's sled to go down the hill and jumped on the back, racing down it with her. I walked over to the edge to watch them better, when I felt something wet drip from my nose and then red stain the snow at my feet.

I put my fingers to my nose and when they came away red, I couldn't stop the irritated groan that slipped out. I turned and walked my way towards the brick bathrooms in the park, covering my nose with my hand and tilting my head forward.

Damn nasal membranes, I thought to myself. Hating the fact that I always got nosebleeds in the winter time, when the air dried out my nostrils.

I went to open the door to the bathroom when it swung open before I could even grab the handle.

Cross and I locked eyes for a second before he looked down and saw the red coming out in the cracks of my fingers.

"Oh shit, did you get hurt on the sled?" He asks, at the same time he places his hand on my arm and leads me into the bathroom, the door closing behind us.

I shake my head. "No, I just always get nosebleeds when the air is dry or cold."

I head over to the sink and lean my nose over it as best as I can, and as soon as I remove my hand, blood starts pouring from both my nostrils in a steady stream.

"Dear God, thats a lot of blood." Cross says, and I notice his face go a couple shades lighter and turn almost ghost white.

"Hey, don't pass out on me." I say, and snap my clean fingers in his face.

I grab some paper towels and do my best to clog my nose with them, ignoring the taste of blood on my tongue. I wash my bloodied hand off quickly, and then grab another wet paper towel and sit it on the back of Cross's neck.

"Everything is spinning, Lil." He says, and his feet stumble a little. I grip his upper arms and move us to the wall, before sliding down to the ground. Trying to ignore the fact that we're sitting on a disgusting bathroom floor.

"It's okay, just take a couple of deep breaths in. And then let them out slowly." I instruct him as best as I can, trying to turn my face in an angle so that my nose isn't in his direct line of sight.

      "I'm supposed to be the one helping you." Cross says, while his head is lolling to the side and still pale as a ghost. I can't help the small giggle that slips out of my mouth.

      He looks at me and smiles softly. "You should see you, with a wad of tissue hanging out your nose. You look funny too."

      I giggle again, because I'm sure I do. We're both packed heavily in snow clothes, sitting on a bathroom floor, both of us trying to get a grip on things. If I don't laugh I'll cry, so laughing it is.

      I pull the tissue out of my nose and see that the end isn't nearly as saturated as it was when I first got in here, and I know the nosebleed is thankfully over. I get up and throw away my tissues in the trash can before walking back over to Cross on the floor, who's finally getting some color back in his cheeks.

      "Feeling better?" I ask him.

      "A little bit, not feeling like i'm going to pass out anymore. What about you?"

      I shrug my shoulders. "Of course, nosebleeds don't hurt unless something hits you to cause them."

      "Wasn't talking about the nosebleed." Cross says and gives me a suggestive look.

       "Then what are you talking about?"

       "You've been acting upset or sad all day. Everytime you laugh its sounding like youre having to make youself or something."

      I do my best to hide my surprise that he was so observant, but i'm sure my face gives me away. It always did, Sutter told me constantly my face was an open book into my feelings. I needed to work on that. "I'm just cold, and tired. I really didn't want to come today but Sutter wouldn't take no for an answer."

"I believe the part about you not wanting to come, but the rest seems like bullshit to me."

His colorful vocabulary at such a young age always seemed to surprise me, even though I heard him cuss like that all the time. Cross always had a way of sounding so much older than what he really was. He was thirteen like me and Sutter, but he was able to word things better than us, and he knew a lot of stuff about everything. He was sharp as a tack when it came to just about anything. I always admired him for that and wished I could be like that too. It was for that very reason though that I had to be careful what I said to him, I knew he wasn't one to let things get him by him.

"I'm fine." I said, not being able to come up with anything else.

He shook his head. "You know, its hard to lie to someone who has that same look on their face everyday, like you do right now."

"What look?" I asked, and even looked in the bathroom mirror that was body length against the wall, trying to see what he apparently saw.

    "The look that says there's damage done to you, but not the superficial kind, but the deep kind. The soul wrenching kind that makes you feel like you can't sleep because your mind won't shut off." His tone is haunting, and causes my heart to stop because he's speaking about something I know all too well about, and you can tell he feels that kind of pain too.

    "What makes you feel that way?" I ask, not being able to contain my curiosity.

    If he's surprised or mad about my question, he doesn't show it. He does however, look away from me and bite into his bottom lip, concentrating on the brick walls surrounding us. "I should have never seen my mom dead. I told my dad I didn't want to see her, not like that. I wanted to remember her alive, vibrant. Not dead and cold, eyes closed and not moving. I was too young for that shit, wouldn't even want to see her now. For months after her funeral, I would have these reoccurring dreams where I'm back to standing over my moms casket, but this time her eyes open.." His voice trails off to a whisper and I can see the traumatized look in his eyes, as if he's seeing the dream right here in this bathroom. "She sits up and asks me why were putting her in the casket, she keeps telling me she's not dead. I look around in the room but its like no one can hear or see this but me. I look back at her and shes got blood running out of every hole in her faces, all the hair follicles in her head, her fingertips, just everywhere..she asks me for help, but I don't know how, its like my feet are welded to the floor. They close the lid and the whole time I can hear her screaming inside and beating on the wood, trying to get out. But she can't obviously, because she really is dead. But its obvious that she didn't want to be."

    I gulp, and find it's hard for my voice to work, and feel like my whole body is shaking. "That's why you turned so white when you saw my nose bleeding, isn't it?" My voice cracks like Sutter's, but its not because of preteen hormones.

    He turns his head to look at me, and this time there is a look of shock on his face. I guess he didn't think I would ever make that connection, but it all makes sense now. I never did remember Cross as the queasy type, seeing as how someone in our town always ended up bloodied or with a broken bone every time we got together, and never once did he turn white and almost pass out.

    "It was almost too real, seeing you like that and that's what she only looks like in my head. Most nights I just stare at her picture frame on my bedside table, so I don't forget what she really looks like, not the awful nightmare version I have conjured up in my brain."

    "I'm so sorry, I don't know what else to say." I swipe a tear away from my cheek, feeling so inadequate for not being able to say more to help him.

    My reason for being upset seems so minuscule now compared to his, because at least my parents were alive. They didn't treat me great, but they were here, and they clothed and fed me. At least I wasn't haunted in my sleep too.

      "It's okay, you don't need to say anything." Cross tells me, and I let out a sigh of relief. "Wanna tell me why you have that look on your face now, since you know my secret?"

      My breath caught in my throat, but not because I was scared of his question, but because I realized I actually did want to tell Cross what was going on at home. I had no idea why, but the thought of talking to him and letting him in on what was causing my life to plummet..actually felt very liberating.

     It made zero sense, because Cross and I had never got along. Not as bad now as it was when we were younger, but we still didn't go out of our way to talk to each other. So why was I willing to open up to him about something that nearly made me sick to just think about telling someone else?

      I didn't have an answer for that, but I did want to get better, and I did want to tell someone. And why not tell someone who seemed to understand that dark, hidden side of me that no one else knew about?     I opened my mouth to speak, to let out all my truths, when suddenly the bathroom door was flung open.

      "She's in here, Sutter!" Nadine yelled, while giving Cross and I a clear look of confusion.

      Sutter skirted around Nadine, and I saw his body literally relax when he laid eyes on me. "I had no idea where you were, we've been looking for you for like forty minutes."

      We had been in here that long talking? It seemed like it was only ten.

     "Sorry about that, I got a nosebleed and Cross helped me out with it."

      Sutter just seemed to notice that his cousin was sitting next to me. "Why are y'all sitting on the floor?"

     Cross was about to answer, but I took the lead, wanting to steer the conversation away from him. "I got dizzy from losing that much blood and seeing all of it, Cross had to help me sit down and relax until I didn't feel so bad anymore."

      Cross's face softened, and I could swear I saw something else twinkle in his eyes. I didn't get the chance to really look though, because Sutter was grabbing my chin and making me face him.

      "I'm sorry, I never should have made you come. Cmon, let's get you home and then you and me can have a movie night at my house. We can make your favorite snack foods."

      I smiled at Sutter, loving how he always seemed to know what to do for me. "Sounds great."

      He helped me up off the floor, and looked at Cross before we left the bathroom. "Thanks for taking care of Lilly, see you around."

      "Anytime, Sut."

     Cross and I locked eyes, and I could tell he knew his secret was safe with me. I felt a pang of sadness that I didn't get to share mine, but maybe it was for the best.

Present time.

     For whatever reason, that memory slammed into me on my drive to Cross's house, and I have no fucking idea how I could ever forget something like that. I guess being practically out of your mind can do that to you.

     I found myself being even more confused now, remembering how even back then, he was able to read me and settle me down better than anyone else could.

     Even better than Sutter.

     Opening the sliding glass door to his downstairs area, I had to do my best to remind myself, I left him for a reason. And that couldn't change.

A/N: so don't hate me!! Things will start coming together very soon.

   Any guesses on what will happen?

    Team Sutter or Team Cross?

    Love you all so much!! Bai 💕