Page 20 of False Idols

No, that’s the fifteen year old girl that fell in love with him at first sight.

It’s her that’s excited by his attention, but it’s also me too, because I never fell out of love with Beau. My body is so conditioned to want him that even though my brain is begging me to be smart, I can’t.

It’s like I don’t know how to choose survival when it comes to Beau. If he’s the one that’s going to end it all, I’ll let him do it. That’s not even taking into the account the guilt that’s taken root and blossomed in my bones over the years. It’s in so deep that I don’t know how I’d ever get it out. I can’t even remember what life was like before I carried the guilt and doubt of what happened that night. Whatever is coming to me, I earned it. I squeeze my eyes shut. This is all so messed up.

“Who the fuck was that idiot?” Beau asks casually, like we’re friends.

We’re not even, though I always wished we would be. Now I don’t know what we are. Enemies maybe, if I could find it in me to hate him for what he’s promised to do to me. But I can’t. I don’t know how.

“He’s just a guy,” I say quietly.

“He wants to fuck you.”

I blush hot at his words. There’s no denying that I’m blushing, but I don’t say anything about what Beau just said. “I don’t want you to hurt him.”

“Why not?”

“Because no one should be hurt over me. W-whatever is going to happen, just let it be to me.”

Beau hums. “Oh, she’s grown brave. My sweet little liar has a backbone now that she’s all grown up.”

“I’m not brave,” I tell him before I can stop myself. It’s hard not to talk to Beau like I would a friend. I used to wish he would talk to me and then when he was gone, I daydreamed. I pretended that we had been something when we hadn’t. I can’t stop myself from doing it now that he’s in front of me and I know that he wants to hurt me.

I have zero self-preservation instincts when it comes to Beau Du Pont.

“Who hit you?” Beau asks and I’m caught off guard by his sudden change in conversation. I thought I covered up the bruise well enough when I was with Sunny, but that was in our dorm. It’s easy to see in the brighter light of the lecture halls. I know he’s got to be able to see exactly where my face hit the shower wall in the direct sunlight, so I don’t bother saying he’s wrong.

“I don’t know. They did it fast.”

“When?”

“Last night.”

Beau rolls his eyes at me. “I know it was last night. You didn’t have that fucking bruise the last time I saw you, now did you? Now, where were you when they did it?”

“I was in the shower,” I tell him quietly. I hate how I’m blushing again from him talking down to me the way he is. Beau was always so otherworldly. So much smarter than anyone else I knew. Bigger than life. Even if I wanted him to want me the way I did him, I don’t think I believed he would talk to me like we were equals. Shame fills me, because the way things are between us now feels right.

I don’t deserve to be around him.

“Someone put their hands on you in the shower?” Beau asks and lowers his voice. “Before me, angel?” A cloud moves over the sun and the change in light casts his face in shadow. He looks less like the golden hero I remember now.

“What?”

“I said, someone put their hands on you before I’ve gotten to?” Beau tsks and smiles at me. “That’s not the way this works. I didn’t do four fucking years for you, for some fucking cunt to fast pass their way to marking you. That’s for me. I’m the one that’s going to tear you apart.”

I feel dizzy. The look in Beau’s eyes, it’s possessive and dark. Greedy. There’s nothing else this man wants but me. I know that.

It’s everything I’ve ever dreamed of.

“I don’t understand.” I take a step back because somewhere in my lizard brain, the part that’s supposed to keep me alive has woken up. “I have to go.” Beau stands when I move back and purses his lips.

“Did I say it was time to go, angel? You’re mine, remember?”

I open my mouth to speak but someone yelling cuts me off and I flinch. My hands come up to cover my face and I drop my books for the second time that day.

“Is that Beau Du Pont?!” The yell is closer and another joins it before there’s a chorus of whoops and hollers. “There he is!”

“Jumpy as a fucking cat,” Beau mutters as he bends to pick up my books, but I’m not sure what’s going on, because we’re not alone anymore. There’s a guy next to me and behind me. When I turn, I run into another. Beau waves them off to hand me my books. The guys make room around me, but that’s not much better than when I was bumping into them, because I’m suddenly in the middle of everyone with only Beau beside me. I clutch my books tighter and look around the circle of faces and the familiar pit in my stomach I know is anxiety forms. They’re not looking at Beau, they’re looking at me. And from the glares aimed my way they aren’t happy to see me. Some of them look familiar and I realize it’s because I went to high school with them. I’ve seen these faces. I know them. There’s Andy whose dad owns the hardware store and Mike who I went to Sunday school with and helped lead the youth group last summer.

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