So Much It Hurts (6 page)

He immediately apologized, his eyes wide with shock over his own actions. “Oh my god. I’m sorry, baby. I know you don’t really have a choice about who your lab partner is. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

I rubbed my cheek where he had slapped me across the face in anger during the argument. Tears welled up in my eyes.

“Please,” he begged. “I love you. Please forgive me. I’m so sorry. I can’t live without you!” He tentatively reached out to touch me.

I recoiled from his hand.

“Oh, Kaitlyn,” he cried with tears welling up in his eyes. “Please don’t be afraid of me.” His hand caressed my bright red cheek. “I’m sorry. I love you,” he pleaded.

Cautiously, I let him draw me into his arms. He smelled so good. He was wearing the new cologne I had bought him for his birthday. His warmth enveloped me, and the memory of this past summer when things were so good between us flashed into my mind. He seemed sincerely regretful. Resistance seemed futile.

“I love you too,” I whispered.

After the first incident, it seemed easier and easier for him to raise his hand in anger toward me. Our arguments always ended in the same scenario. He begged for my forgiveness, professed his love for me, and held me in his arms until I caved. Every single time I surrendered to his pleadings, I scolded myself for being so weak.
When did I become such a pushover? Why did I let Trevor walk all over me? Why couldn’t I just walk away from him? Why did the thought of letting him go terrify me so much?

I laid in the bed at night and argued with myself about the reasons why I bothered to stay with Trevor. First, there was the Trevor that I fell in love with in the beginning. We had a history. He was my first date, my first kiss, and my first love. The world viewed him as a hero—a god. He was the junior co-captain of the varsity football team, gorgeous, popular, headed to a great college on a scholarship, raised by a good family…the list went on and on,
ad nauseum
. Everyone expected me to be with him. People constantly reminded me of what a cute, great, wonderful, ‘add your own adjective’ couple we were together. No one knew that he hit me, shoved me, or bruised me. No one knew that he threatened to kill me if I ever broke up with him. No one knew that under that façade of godliness, he was a monster. I felt like a scared kitten on the edge of a bridge in the middle of a busy freeway. Either way I turned I was sure to meet with doom. Staying with Trevor would cause more pain and heartache. Breaking up with him would only cause more of the same. I felt scared and lonely. Fear apprehensively clutched the key that would unlock the real truth about Trevor.

Late one night while my parents were out to dinner with some friends, we were in my bedroom arguing about my instant messenger chat activity. He insisted that I log in so he could search my chat history. While I knew I had absolutely nothing to hide, I refused to yield to his demand. Searching my history and invading my privacy was a line I was unwilling for Trevor to cross. He ranted and raved, clenching his fists and pacing the floor like a crazed lunatic, accusing me of cheating on him. I stood my ground and insisted he was imagining things. His faced hardened with frustration while his eyebrows furrowed in a deep crease. He demanded me to log in immediately, which I adamantly declined.

“Log in now, or you will regret it!” he growled and grabbed my arm, leading me toward my computer.

“No!” I yelled and attempted to jerk my arm free of his tight grip. “If you don’t trust me, I’m sorry, but that’s your problem!” I managed to slip away from him and took a few steps backward.

“How can I trust you if you won’t let me see your history?” Gritting his teeth, his jaw muscles twitched while the veins of his neck bulged on each side.

“I’m just not going there, Trevor. This is just something you are going to have to deal with, or else.”

“Or else, what?” Trevor’s eyes held fast with a menacing glare.

“Or else…” I hesitantly fumbled for the words, but I’d had enough of his possessiveness and the constant arguing. Gaining my composure, I shouted with brazen fury, “Or else, it’s over. We’re over. I’m done!”

“Oh yeah?” he hissed as he came at me with fire in his eyes. Grabbing me by my throat and shoving me backwards, his tense arms held me tight against the wall of my bedroom. Shallow breaths fought against the choking sensation in my throat. My hands desperately clawed at his fingers that were wrapped tightly around my neck, struggling to break them free. His words seared themselves into my memory. “If I can’t have you, then no one else can either! I’ve got a 9mm pistol with a magazine full of bullets. I’ll give you one guess as to what I’ll do with them.”

“Please,” I gasped, panicking under his suffocating grip.

He spat more words into my ear before he finally loosened his grip. “And if you even dare to breathe a word about this conversation to anyone, I’ll hunt you down. Don’t worry, sweetheart,
trouble
will find you.”

I felt sure it was just a threat. He would never actually do it, right? I was too terrified to tell anyone. That night I slept with my closet light on and double checked all the locked doors. Nightmares of dark shadows and gunshots plagued my dreams all night. I woke up sweaty and out of breath several times, crying into my pillow until exhaustion overcame me. I never threatened to break up with him again, nor did I ever find the courage to tell anyone.

Our senior year was no different than our junior year. I was still a frog sitting in extremely hot water, but for whatever reason I couldn’t will myself to jump out of the pot.

“So, I guess I’ll take you home after practice today.” It was more of a statement than a question. Trevor had a presence about him that kept most people from questioning him.

“Okay,” I said. “I’ll meet you at my locker after school.” Trevor had picked me up earlier that morning to take me to breakfast before school started. It was a nice gesture, but I wondered if it was more for him to keep tabs on me than for anything else.

“See you later,” he blew me a kiss as he walked into his class.

My last class came and went in the blink of an eye. I was so ready for the day to be over.

Arnold stood by my locker as I took out the books I would need for homework that night. “So, have you finished the science project for the county science exhibit yet?”

“Nah, but I’m working on it,” I told him.

Arnold was in several of my classes. Always friendly, a bit overweight, and unbelievably intelligent, he held the title of Valedictorian of our senior class. He and I had worked on a few projects together in the past.

“Just let me know if you need any help with it,” he offered as he picked up the pencils I had accidently dropped on the floor while getting out my books.

“Thanks,” I said.

“See you later!” He waved as he walked down the hall toward the library.

Out of nowhere, a fist punched into the locker beside me. Startled, I flinched causing me to bump my head on my open locker door. “What the hell were you talking to that guy for?” Trevor’s eyes burned with anger.

“That was just Arnold,” I said, stunned. “He was asking about our science project.”

“I don’t care what he was asking you. You better not be talking to him again,” Trevor barked at me. Trevor’s anger always made me uneasy. Attempting to calm him down only made him even more furious.

“Okay.” I chided myself for backing down so easily.

Trevor grabbed me by the arm and tightened his grip. Blood pulsed in the veins of my hand. He glared at me, his face inches from mine. “It better not happen again,” he practically growled.

Storming away, he slammed the door on his way outside to football practice. I stood there, rubbing the tender spot on my head caused by my open locker door.

Tears sprang to my eyes as I finished getting my stuff from my locker. I caught a glimpse of Amanda out of the corner of my eye. Amanda was a girl from my Spanish class. She sat a few rows over from me. I barely knew her, but she seemed really nice. “You really shouldn’t let him treat you like that,” she whispered.

I knew she meant well, but those words were just not the ones I needed to hear at that moment. I smiled politely at her and said, “I know.” I quickly turned to face my locker just as the first tear rolled down my cheek.

I changed into my cheerleading practice clothes in the upper hallway bathroom; no one ever went into that bathroom after school. I just needed some time to compose myself before practice began. The other cheerleaders were well aware of how Trevor treated me, but blinded by his popularity, they had a tendency to overlook his temper. Maybe they were secretly jealous that I was dating the newest captain of the varsity football team. How lucky I must have looked in their eyes.
Little do they know…

I finished getting dressed for practice and walked outside toward the football field. Just as I rounded the corner, I saw a group of guys skateboarding near the gym. I recognized a few faces from my senior class, but several of them were underclassmen. A couple of guys were sitting around the base of
Bruiser
. Bruiser was the statue of our school mascot, the bulldog, that was erected outside the gymnasium and dedicated by the graduating class of 1995. The guys who were sitting around Bruiser were strumming their guitars and singing while the skateboarders jumped the curbs and rode the rails.