“Who was your first crush?” I ask Ben.  We are nearly done with our meal. Well, I am. Ben has done nothing but watch me. The place is a bit more quiet. I nibble on my lips as his eyes grow intense. He smoothens the front of his tux with a wink. “Answer me,” I say with a smile. Why do I feel like it’s someone I know? Possibly Olivia.  “You first,” he mutters. He starts on his meal before I get another word out, I shake my head.  The lights in the restaurant grow dim, waiters move about the place silently and soft music plays in the background. I sneak a peek at my phone which lights up. We have been here for over an hour. I place the phone face down to avoid any distractions. It is a few hours until Christmas and our anniversary.  Does he remember?  Poking my cheeks with my fingers, I stick my tongue out. “My first crush was Brian.”  Ben sets his fork down, then the knife. His brows furrow, he leans

Daddy fucked up our reservation. Maybe he forgot or the restaurant made a mistake as he said. I am not sure which but the longer we wait in the car, the angrier Mum grows. She’s angrily typing on her phone, probably to one of those her rich friends who come to the house to drink our wine while they gossip.Hayden is busy with his tab. I peek over his shoulder to see the game he’s playing and a soft sigh leaves my lips. So many guns and shooting. My phone has been silent since we left the house. Ben must have gone for the dinner. He hasn’t texted me. I don’t want to ruin his not-so-family time but I miss him.We look up at the sound of approaching footsteps. Daddy. His boots create prints on the thin layer of snow covering the path. He jams his hands into the pockets of his jacket and expels a breath of white air. His facial expression spells bad news and his steps falter before he reaches us. I glance at Mum. Her arms are crossed on

BENThe pain in Mum’s voice splits my heart into a million pieces. I ball my hands into fists. “For what?” She is the reason I have trouble sleeping alone. If Asher is not home, it’s harder to fall asleep. I might give him a speech about being strong anytime he sneaks into my bed after a nightmare but those are the best parts of my nights. Sleep comes easily when he is there. She won’t hurt me if I am not alone. Tears cloud my vision as the dark memories try to overpower me. She’s not here. She can’t hurt me. My fingernails dig into my palms until they draw blood. I focus on the pain. I think about the fights. About my Gracie. Her sheepish grins and our silly notes. Our kisses. And the anger slowly eases from my body. I raise my head to see Mum watching me and the pent up emotions come rushing down on me again. I needed her then. I still do. But I don’t know how to move past this mental blo

BEN I don’t believe her. Either she likes Noah and she is lying to protect my feelings or she is tired of me. Last year, she asked a lot of questions about Noah. I didn’t want to worry. I didn’t think I had any reason to worry because I trusted her. I still do. Maybe I shouldn’t. If she truly loves, she will want me to be happy. Gracie has changed. I know it’s not her period. It happened a day before Christmas. It shouldn’t be here so soon already. I press a finger to my temple and set my painting brush down. This is not even my class. Olivia drags her high stool closer to me. She nudges me with her elbow as her brush makes soft strokes on the canvas. I tuck a hand under my chin and try to guess a title or the inspiration behind the painting.  We have been doing that for half an hour since we escaped to this place but it’s barely helping my mood. The last time I saw her was at the restaurant. Mum invited her and her mother so they weren’t alone o

I am barely listening to Mr Banks, our maths teacher. His lips move but I hear nothing. Ben’s words keep reverberating in my head, stabbing me in my heart but I take comfort in the fact we haven’t broken up.Mr Banks throws a question to the class, someone answers and he nods in approval. I count the seconds until the bell rings but a peek at my wristwatch shows I’ve been in the class for less than ten minutes. A period is supposed to last forty minutes but I don’t think I will survive that long without talking to Ben. I shoot to my feet. My books clatter to the floor and my chair squeaks. “Yes, Theresa?” Mr Banks says. Heads turn in my direction, my eyes locate the floor, wishing the earth will swallow me. Buying time to compose myself, I pick my books and set them on my seat. His footsteps approach me and I lift my head. “I’d like to use the bathroom.” A girl snickers b