Page 41 of Betraying Bexley

Chapter 7

Bex lay beside Bronx, unable to sleep. They invited her to stay the weekend at the house with them. She’d never deviated from the plan. Never spent a night away from home before. Her mind conjured up every issue that might come up, from not having any clothes to no toiletries and the fact they’d all see her leg—not as though they hadn’t before then. However, something about her staying there was intimate and intimidating.

“You’re shaking.” Bronx rolled over to face her. “Are you having another panic attack? Should I get Jamie?”

Bex shook her head. “N-No. Anxiety.”

“Have you never had a sleepover before?” Bronx scooted closer, ramping up the anxious tremble engulfing Bex’s body.

“N-No.”

“Wow. That sucks. What about birthday parties?”

“N-No.” Her father didn’t believe in celebrating the day she was born. From what she gleaned from her bodyguards at the time, it reminded him of the woman who gave birth to her, and he hated her. It’d also been why after her thirteenth birthday, he drugged her and brought her to some medical place and had her sterilized. So she couldn’t have kids either.

“Have you ever done anything fun?”

She didn’t even know the meaning of fun, so how could she have it? “N-No.”

“That’s it, get up.” Bronx threw the covers back and slipped out of bed.

Bex looked at the clock. It was after eleven. “W-Why?” She sat up apprehensively, making sure to keep her leg covered.

"I'm going to teach you about having fun." She turned on the bedside light before motioning for Bex to move. "You have to get dressed though and be quiet."

She blinked. “Uh...”

“Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.” Bronx winked at her. “Now, get dressed.”

Bronx opened her dresser and began pulling clothes out of it. The only thing Bex had to wear was the set of pajamas Bronx let her borrow. Her uniform was covered in dirt and blood from Kenner attacking her. “M-My u-uniform.”

“No, silly.” Bronx brought over another pair of jeans and a sweater. “This should fit. Go try it on.”

After Bex slipped her prosthetic into place, she went into the bathroom with the clothes Bronx had given her. The jeans appeared wide enough at the leg to fit Bex, but there were some that, even though they looked like it, didn’t necessarily mean they would. It was part of the perks of their school uniform. She never worried about what clothes would look like, because she always wore a skirt.

She put the sweater on first then sat down to tug on the pants. She started with her prosthetic first. If it didn't fit, it would be easy to pull off. As she unfurled the denim material, she noticed a zipper from the knee down to the cuff like the other pair Bronx had given her. Bex had never seen anything like it before. Amused and thrilled, she took her leg off, then slid the jeans on. After she reattached her leg, she zipped up the pants leg and stood. Though they were snug, there was also room for her to move in them. They fit her perfectly.

Bronx called out to her and Bex hurried up getting ready. The idea of wearing clothes that fit her instead of hung off of her because they were three sizes too big, filled her full of wonder. Everything she'd wore was a hand-me-down from someone she didn't know. Plus, when she wasn't wearing those things, she wore shorts because it was easier, even in the dead of winter. Now she wondered, if perhaps, everything had been done to keep her hidden or oppressed.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, Bronx whistled then motioned for her to turn around. Heat filled Bex’s cheeks. She rotated in a small circle, not sure what Bronx’s point was. As she pivoted, the small smile on Bronx’s face settled some part of Bex. She didn’t understand why, hell, she didn’t understand most things as it was. Yet warmth spread through her and a sense of acceptance followed it.

“Flawless.” Bronx clapped. “I had a feeling, if we fixed up your leg, made it a bit streamlined so it fit your body type, it would be easier for you to wear something besides your uniform or P.E. clothes.”

Bex frowned. Had they been watching her?Stop being paranoid.She couldn’t though. “H-how did y-you k-know?”

“Casual Friday, duh,” Bronx said in a teasing tone. “We’re allowed to wear whatever we want to school as long as we have our school shirt on.”

Bex stared at Bronx in confusion. She tried to remember every Friday she’d been in school, but it was all a jumbled mess of fear and self-loathing most of the time. Had she been so wrapped up in hiding, she hadn’t taken the time to pay attention to what happened around her? There was also the fact her father received all of the paperwork about the school and she never saw any of it. Jesus, she was pathetic. “Oh. B-But they fit.”

“Because, I might have snooped around a little and—Wait. You didn’t know?” Bronx crossed to Bex and placed her hands on Bex’s shoulders. “Next Friday we’re glamming you up. Promise.”

Heat filled Bex’s cheeks and instead of being angry at Bronx for ‘snooping,’ she’d been grateful. She’d cherish the jeans and take care of them. “I-I d-don’t k-know.”

“I do. It’ll be fun. Grab your shoes. Let’s go.” Bronx picked up her boots as she headed for the door.

“S-sure.” She grabbed her tattered second-hand shoes and followed Bronx out of the room. “W-Where are w-we g-going?” She tried to keep her tone low as they snuck through the house.

“I have a place you’ll like.” Bronx waved Bex forward, into the living room.

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