Chapter 3

She was still smiling at me as she left.

"I didn't have much to say, but Dad wanted me to pass along a message. If you don't come home soon, don't bother coming back at all."

I fell silent.

My relationship with my father had always been on the verge of completely breaking down. It all boiled down to the mess of a blended family, which had been magnified to extreme proportions in our case.

Selena and I shared the same father, but we had different mothers. My stepmother was my father's first love. She was the type to be domineering, a classic spoiled rich heiress, which left no room for me in her life. And my father, guilty over the past, catered to her every whim.

My childhood memories were filled with me and my stepmother clashing, her running to my father in tears, and him punishing me for it. So, once I was old enough, I couldn't get away from that house fast enough. I hadn't gone back for years.

-

I stared at Ben, who was curled up on the couch, hugging his knees with those wet eyes of his locked on me.

I sighed.

Why had I gone ahead and spent 273 bucks to bring him back?

Financially, I was already struggling to make ends meet..

But, if I were to give him credit, Ben was actually pretty well-behaved.

Forget whether he did a good job, at least he cleaned the house. When I went to work, he would watch cartoons or draw.

His drawings... well, let's just say they were abstract.

I asked him what his art was supposed to represent, and he rubbed the edge of his paper with his pale fingers for a long while before finally pointing at the picture.

"This is you, Jen, and this is me."

He couldn't remember more complicated names, so he just called me Jen.

When he said that, his deep, cool voice echoed in my ears.

And that was when I realized: He really was a man now.

He could easily pull me into his arms, and without much effort, he could do things to me a man would.

Even though his expression was still goofy, his eyes pure and unclouded, as if he would never hurt me.

-

That night, the storm was the worst I had heard in months.

The wind was howling, and since I lived in a mid-rise, the gusts seemed to roar through the windows like a wild beast.

Ben usually slept on the fold-out couch in the living room, while I stayed in the bedroom.

Suddenly, a thunderclap cracked so loud it shook the walls, followed by the sound of something shattering in the living room.

I jumped up and ran to check, only to find that the vase on the coffee table had been smashed.

But Ben was nowhere in sight.

As I fumbled for the light switch, I found him huddled in the corner, shaking.

I pressed the switch, but the light wouldn't turn on.

There had been random power outages these past few days, and with the rainstorm, it was clear the power was down again.

I couldn't do anything but walk over to the trembling figure in the corner.

"What's wrong? Don't be scared. It's just thunder..."

I tried reaching out to pat him, but then I realized—he wasn't scared.

He was holding something back.

Another thunderous roar shook the room, and then a flash of lightning lit up the entire space.

I could only see the red of his eyes, but before I could blink, he lunged at me, knocking me to the floor.

No matter how I looked at it, I shouldn't have ignored it. Ben was a man.

A man with a bit of muscle, over six feet tall, still in his adolescence, full of restless desire.

I couldn't tell if he was kissing me or biting me.

Was he aroused, or was this just some kind of outburst?

I just wanted to reach the phone on the coffee table and dial 911.

But, in the end, I let go.

Instead, I gently rubbed his back.

Emotions could be a strange thing. People would connect and feel the same things sometimes.

I felt like he and I were the same—two strays, lost and forgotten.

So, with all my strength, I held him tight and kept calling his name.