Page 50 of Crossing the Line

“I’m fine,” I answer, hating how thick my voice sounds.

He glances at the house. “Do they do this a lot?”

A nod is my only response. This is so embarrassing. I wish he would just go away. It would be one thing if he were just some random person, but he’s one of the cutest boys in school—at least I think so. We were lab partners in biology last year, but I could barely speak to him, and he wasn’t exactly trying to strike up a conversation with me, so most of the year we just quietly asked each other to pass things. He barely even looked at me.

The new school year started a few weeks ago, and this is the first time we’ve said anything to each other this year.

“Does it ever get worse?” He’s still standing at the end of our walkway. It’s probably smart of him to keep his distance—I wish I could.

“What do you mean?” I ask.

Shifting his weight, he shrugs in the darkness. “They don’t hit each other or anything, do they?”

I shake my head.

He nods as he takes in my response, but doesn’t say anything else.

And he doesn’t leave.

He just stands there.

I don’t know how long we stare at each other in silence, but it feels like a really long time. Finally, I ask, “What are you doing?”

“Just making sure you’re okay.” His eyes pass over the house again before looking back at me.

“I’m used to it.” I lie.

He nods again. After a pause, he says, “Can I sit?”

“Okay,” I say as I wipe my eyes one more time for good measure.

Aiden takes a seat next to me on the step, and it feels a lot like Biology class. Not in the sense of measuring stuff in beakers, but in the sense of both of us sitting side by side, staring straight ahead, and not talking.

We sit like that until I hear a loud shriek of laughter from Kelly’s house. “Don’t you want to go back to the party?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “Not really. It wasn’t that fun. That’s why I went for a walk.” His words are accompanied by a glass shattering inside, and I wince at the sound.

Aiden glances over his shoulder but doesn’t seem phased by it. He stares at the house for a long time like he’s debating something, and when he finally looks back at me, he says, “Do they ever take it out on you?”

Hugging my knees to my chest, I shake my head. “No.”

I can feel him watching me, so I hug my knees a little tighter. It’s a long time before he says anything, but when he does, his voice is barely above a whisper. “You can tell me if they take it out on you.” I turn my head to look at him, and he adds, “My dad takes stuff out on me sometimes.”

My eyes widen. “He does?”

Aiden stares down at his hands for a long time. “He gets mad.”

“But he hits you?” I ask, looking at him a little more closely. He’s wearing jeans and a black hoodie, so there’s not much of him I can see.

He shrugs off my question. “Do they hit you?”

Shaking my head, I quietly answer, “No.”

“Good,” he says.

I feel like I should ask him more about his dad, but I don’t want to scare him away, so instead, I ask more about the party, and he tells me that I’m not missing anything, but I’m not sure if I believe him. It sounds like everyone over there is having a lot of really loud fun.

Then we talk about the kids at school.