*Thank-you for the reviews on the last chapter. THey were greatly appreciated. Thank-you all so much!*
I wake up covered in snow, freezing and wet. I can't go to school like this if I even go at all. I sit up on the bench and brush the snow off of my legs before I stand up. I grab my book bag and start to walk home to take a hot shower and to change into something dry. I have no idea what time it is or if I am late for school or not. I make my way back to my house. I open the torn and damaged screen door before the dirty white door. I sigh as I enter the house and see my mom passed out over the couch, naked and dirty. I lay my bag down by the door and walk around the living room to pick up cigarette buds and empty beer bottles. My mom had quite the party after I left last night. I walk into her bedroom and grab a blanket off her bed, carry it out to the living room and cover her with it so she stays warm. I make my way to the small bathroom and start to strip out of my wet clothes. I noticed that it was only 6:30 in the morning so I have time to go to school. I start the water and step into the refreshing warm water as it hits my body. I wash myself and wash my hair before I go to school I don't know why I care so much but I do. I get out of the shower and wrap a towel around me. I walk into my room to grab something new to wear. I smile as I decide on a pair of jeans, a grey beater and a leather jacket to wear over. I quickly comb through my hair before walking out into the living room where my mom is now awake. "Dean," she says.
"Yes, Mom," I say as I stop as I go for my book bag.
"Where are you going?" she asks.
"I'm going to school," I say, "I have to go to school."
"Dean, I'm sick. I can't be here alone."
"Mom," I say, "I have to go to school. I have a test coming up in English. It helps if I am at school to get a good grade on it."
"Dean," she says, "you don't need to go to school. When are you going to realize that? Those people don't care about you. They just make us send our kids to school. Look outside, Dean, that's your life. That's what you're going to be. You're going to be working those streets. You're going to be getting your fix and your high. You're not going to college."
"Mom," I say, "I would like to try school."
"Dean," she says as she sits up. "Don't go to school today please. I need you."
"Mom," I say. "I have to."
"You don't love me do you?" she asks.
"I do love you," I say. "I really do love you but I need to go to school. The principal was on my back yesterday for not applying myself."
"Dean," she says, "please stay with me today."
"Mom," I say with conflict in my voice. "Why?"
"I need you today. Please," she says as her voice cracks. I don't want to see her cry nor do I want to make her cry. I take off my leather jacket and put it onto the couch.
"Okay, Mom," I say. "I'll stay but I have to be somewhere by 5 is that okay?"
"Yes, Dean," she says. "I love you, Dean. You know that right?"
"Yes, Mom," I say as I look at her wrists and see bruising and see a faint bruise on her face. "He hit you again didn't he?"
"I didn't have money," she says, "I didn't want to pay him through his friends. It is what it is, Dean. This is our life. This will always be our life. Just promise me when you find one of those skanks out there that you never beat her around."
"Mom," I say, "I would never put my hands on a woman." I have seen my mom get beat around too many times and seen the after effects I could never put my hands on a female especially a female that I love. "And Mom, he shouldn't put his hands on you."
"Dean," she says, "it's what I know."
"But you shouldn't' know it," I say. "Are you hungry? Do you want anything to eat?" I ask.
"Please," she says.
"Well, what would you like? Our fridge is pretty bare today. We have bologna and milk. We have some bread. Do you want a bologna sandwich and a glass of milk?"
"That sounds wonderful," she says as she grabs my hand as I stand up. "Thank-you, Dean."
"You're welcome," I say as I make my way to the kitchen to make her a bologna sandwich. I pour her a glass of milk and then take it to her in the living room. "Here you go, Mom," I say as I place it down on the coffee table in front of her.
"Thanks," she says as she sits up with her blanket wrapped around her to eat. "So what's at 5?"
"I have to work on a project for school," I say. "I'm working with some girl on it."
"A girl huh? Am I going to meet her?"
"Probably not," I say, "she's not like us. She's just someone that's helping me out with my grade. Don't read into it."
"I'm not," she says. "So what's this project?"
"Something stupid," I say, "I don't understand what it is or what we're supposed to do. She gave me notes and stuff but I still don't understand it."
"I see," she says. "Maybe you should talk to her a little more about it."
"I guess," I say.
"Where did you stay last night?" she asks.
"I stayed in the park," I say. "What the hell kind of party did you have?"
"A wild one. Mack brought his friends over we smoked a little, snorted a little and drank a little. Things just got out of hand."
"I've seen things get out of hand, Mom," I say, "I hate leaving you alone with Mack but I can't stay here and watch him hit you because then that makes me want to kill him. I don't care what kind of life I have but I love you and I have respect for you but I can't stand to see a man put their hands on my mom."
"He said he won't do it again," she says as she finishes her sandwich.
"He's said that before," I remind her, "and yet here we are again."
"He meant it this time," she says. "I know him. He got carried away."
"I guess," I say. "Mom, you should take a shower."
"All right," she says, "then can we hang out this afternoon."
"Yes," I say.
"Okay," she says as she gets up with her blanket wrapped around her to take a shower. I clean up her mess from eating while she takes a shower.
After her shower she comes out of her bedroom dressed in a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt. Her long dark hair soaking wet falling to her shoulder blades as she takes a seat on the couch, "Let me take care of your hair for you," I say. I go into the bathroom and grab her comb and a ponytail holder as well as the blow dryer. I make my way back into the living room. I sit behind her on the couch after plugging in the blow dryer and turn it on to dry her hair as I comb through it. I like to take care of my mom. She may not be the best mom but she tries. It's been just us since my father left when I was 3 years old to go to the store and he never came back. I don't remember much of him. I just remember my mom loved him very much but he left us. I wanted to go to the store with him that day too but now I realize why he didn't' want to take me. I don't even remember what he looks like and the only thing I know of him is the once a year Christmas card he sends us. I have no desire to want to see him again or even talk to him because I might punch him in the face for all the hell I have been through since he left. It tore my mom apart. I remember so much of her lying in bed for days and not wanting to eat. I've been taking care of my mom since I was 3 years old. She's just not well.
I brush through her hair after it's dry and brush it off to the side preparing to braid it. "Dean, I like when you play with my hair."
"I know, Mom," I say with a smile. "I like to make you look beautiful."
"Thank-you," she says and I can see her smile in the TV and it makes me smile. "I have to work this afternoon. I won't be home till after 9," she says.
"Okay," I say as I braid her hair. "I don't' know what time I am getting back from the library but I should be here. Just please be careful walking these streets alone at night. Do you want me to pick you up? I don't mind picking you up to walk you home."
"Dean, you don't have to do that," she says as I tie the hair tie into her hair.
"I want to, Mom. I don't' want you walking by yourself. I'll be there to pick you up. What time do you get off?"
"8:30," she says.
"All right," I say with a smile. "I'll be there at 8:30."
"Thank-you, Dean, someday you're going to make one lucky girl very happy."
"I doubt it," I say.
"You're a good man, Dean, I'm sure any girl would be lucky to have you," she says.
"We'll see," I say, "so let's hang out today."
"Sounds like a plan to me," she says with a smile.
At 5 after spending the day with my mom watching TV, playing games and just talking I arrive at the library. I see Anastasia sitting at a table and make my way over to her. "Hey," I say.
"Dean," she says softly as she looks up at me with her dark eyes. "Are you okay? You weren't at school today."
"My mom was sick," I say taking a seat next to her. "So I stayed home to take care of her."
"Is she okay?" she asks and I can hear the sincerity in her voice.
"She's better now. She went to work."
"That's good," she says with a soft smile. "I have some more notes for you from Mrs. Regan's class," she says as she hands me some more notes.
"Thank-you," I say.
"So did you look over my notes for our project?" she asks.
"Yes," I say. "I don't understand it."
"It's pretty much about class and society. Do you think that there's an emphasis on what class you belong to in Society today?"
I think about it for a few minutes and finally say, "Yes I do. Society wants people to be rich. If you're not in the upper class or making the right amount of money you're frowned upon. If you're not carrying the latest cell phones in school or any at all or wearing the newest and trendiest clothes in school you're shunned. I've seen it many times."
"I agree," she says, "I think that there's so much emphasis on money and wealth these days no one takes the time to get to know a person."
"In all honesty, Anastasia, your crew wouldn't hang out with my crew because my crew doesn't have money and yours does."
"And that may be true but don't act like I'm like them, Dean. Money and wealth mean nothing to me."
"Yeah right," I say, "you're probably planning to be some big CEO like your dad."
"No," she says "I'm not. I have other plans in mind like being a ballerina or even a writer. I don't' want to be a CEO."
"That's interesting," I say. I'm shocked she doesn't want a job that makes her money. "Why is that?"
"Because I would rather do something that I love then be unhappy making money," she says. "Money doesn't matter to me."
"Are you sure?"
"I'm very sure," she says, "money can buy a lot of things but it can't buy happiness."
"Very true," I say nodding my head.
"And what about love?" she asks. "Do you think two people from two different classes in society could fall in love and would it be frowned upon if they do?"
"No," I say, "it's impossible why would someone from the upper class ever be interested in someone in the lower class? They wouldn't be because there is nothing in common."
"I don't know," she says, "I think it's very possible. A person can't stop their heart from falling in love let alone who they fall in love with," she says with a smile. "I'm sure there have been poor people and rich people that have fallen in love, gotten married and lived happily ever after. I don't think money should stop anyone from falling in love. If you love someone you love them would it be frowned upon probably so but it shouldn't be. You can't stop love from happening."
"You don't think it's weird that someone from the lower class would ever be with someone from the upper class?" I ask.
"Dean," she says placing her hand on top of mine and I feel the electricity flow between us. I quickly remove my hand from hers. "No I don't. I think it's admirable. I think anyone that's brave enough to fall in love with someone outside of their class range is amazing. Like I said you can't choose who you fall in love with. Your heart knows what it wants."
"I see," I say. My conversations with Anastasia always leave me confused. I'm still not sure why but she makes me think. "I just think poor people should stick with poor people like take me for example," I say, "I'm not going anywhere in life. I'm probably going to live off the streets the rest of my life. I'm never getting out of my class range. I'll get some crap 9-5 job where I make minimum wage, I'll drop out of high school and I'll knock up some random girl and struggle to take care of my baby. I'll never get out of where I am because that's who I am. This is my life. No respectable rich girl is ever going to find anything desirable in me."
"If they see your heart rather than your class and how much money you have then yes a rich girl could very well find you desirable."
"And what would your mom and dad say if you brought someone home like me?"
"My dad would be pissed," she says quietly as she looks away, "but why should the opinions of my parents matter if I am happy?"
"Would you ever fall for a poor guy?" I ask and I can feel the awkwardness of my question as well as see it on her face.
"I don't know maybe," she says. "This isn't about what I would do," she says quickly changing the subject. "You and I just don't agree on it. I think that two people from two different classes could very well fall in love and be happy. There is not a doubt in my mind."
"I'm just saying what I know, Anastasia. I know no rich girl is ever going to fall for me. I'm stuck with the girls in my neighborhood and you're stuck with your rich boyfriend. It is what it is, Anastasia."
"I guess it is," she says quietly. Neither of us say anything for a few minutes. The tension is rising between us and I don't' know what to say. She finally breaks the silence and says, "did you eat today?"
I look down at the table and say, "No. We don't have any food to eat."
"I'm sorry," she says grabbing her purse. I watch and my eyes grow big as she pulls out a wallet. She pulls out a $100 bill and hands it to me. "This is for you to go get groceries and get some food. You need to eat, Dean."
"I can't take this from you, Anastasia."
"I want you to have it," she says as she tries to hand it back to me. I don't know what to say or do. I fight with her and then she looks at me with her beautiful dark brown eyes and I can't say no. "Take it please, Dean," she says as she places it into my hand.
"Why are you being so nice to me?" I ask.
"Because I care about you, Dean and I just want to be your friend," she says, "so please just take the money."
"I don't want to be your charity case," I say.
"You're not," she says, "just look at it as a friend helping out a friend."
"All right," I say as I put the money into my pocket. "Thank-you."
"You're welcome," she says with a smile as she looks at me, our eyes meet and I feel myself being pulled to her. She feels the same magnetic pull as she moves closer to me. I lean down and my lips find hers. I trace my tongue along her lips and she parts her lips granting me access to her mouth. Our tongues meet each other, our tongues twirling and twisting with each other. The passion building between us and rising between us, she brings her hand up to my face to cup it as I cup her face with both my hands. Our kiss continues and leaves us breathless as we pull away from each other. "Um," she says with a shy smile.
"Yeah um," I say with a smile of my own. "That was unexpected."
"A little," she says nervously. We look at each other again before our lips meet again and we kiss each other passionately. "All right," she says as she pulls away. "Let's focus on the project."
"I'm sorry," I say.
"No," she says, "I'm sorry. I really am," she says before things go silent between us again. She looks like she's deep in thought and randomly says, "do you ever think about leaving this town?"
"All the time," I say, "do you?"
"I've been thinking about it," she says, "where do you think you're going to go if you ever leave?"
"I don't know," I say as I feel myself warming up to her not that I didn't just warm up to her while I was sticking my tongue down her throat but I'm warming up to her. "Where ever life takes me. What about you?"
"I am thinking of New York. I am trying out for a ballet company there in a couple months. I want to go but my dad may not like the idea."
"Well, you said it yourself," I say, "why let your dad tell you what to do if you're making your own decisions and you're happy. Do you think you can make it into the ballet company?"
"My dance teacher says I can," she says with a smile.
"Then go for it," I say with a smile.
"I think I will but then there's Shawn, Dean, I don't' know about Shawn and how he'll feel about it."
"You want my opinion on, Shawn?" I ask.
"Go ahead," she says.
"I think he's an asshole. I don't' know why you are with him. You could do a lot better and you're definitely not like him so why be with him?"
"Shawn is a bit of an asshole yes and I am only with him because my dad and his dad are really good friends. They have been pushing it down our throats since we were little that we should fall in love and get married. They still do it. I guess that's their plan for us. I don't really know."
"Do you want to marry him?"
"No," she says, "I don't even love him, Dean," she says honestly surprising me.
"Don't pull me into the middle of this," I say, "but if I were you. I would do what makes you happy. You shouldn't be forced to be with someone you don't want to be with."
"I know but sometimes making my dad happy is the only way I can get some peace."
"Lifestyles of the rich and famous," I say.
"Yes," she says. "Dean," she says looking at me. "Please don't tell anyone what happened between us tonight."
"Why would I do that?" I ask as I shrug my shoulder at her. "I know you didn't' mean to do it and we will just forget about it."
"Thanks," she says nervously. "I just never mind it's not important," she says.
"Our secret," I say with a smile.
"Thanks" she says with a smile, "so back to the project," she says with a smile.
"Back to the project," I say with a soft smile as we go back to looking at the notes but I can't keep my eyes off of her. She barely even knows me and she just spilled some of her biggest secrets to me. I am really confused about her now.
*A/N: What do you think about Dean's sensitive side? What about his relationship with his mom? What did you think of Anastasia giving him $100 to buy groceries? What about their kiss? Do you think there are some feelings there between both of them or was the kiss a mistake? Anastasia chose to tell Dean some of her secrets like leaving the town and not really loving Shawn why do you think she told him her secrets? Why do you think Dean is confused about her? Please review and thank-you for reading.