Chapter 17

I'm just as bad as Douchebag Dad.

I walk to the door and shut it, standing so close to him I can feel his breath on my forehead.

"Sorry, I'm not sure what to do here." I'm about to suck air into my cheeks but I stop myself. "But I hate seeing you like this. And I'm not leaving till I can help fix whatever's wrong."

He finally turns to me, perplexity all over his face. Not saying anything, but at least he's looking at me. His dark eyes focus on mine, hair still mussed from the shower and flopping across his forehead. But what gets me most is his lips. Tight in the corners like he's suppressing some giant emotion. Anger, maybe, but it seems more like pain.

He's… oh gosh, he's hurt.

Don't know what comes over me. I don't care that my head is starting to throb again and my whole body aches. This stupid hangover doesn't matter right now. I don't want to see his pain anymore and next thing I know, I'm trying to erase the pain from his lips by pressing them with mine.

He's hesitant at first, refusing to respond and keeping his hands firmly at his sides. Am I still doing things wrong? Or did I just shock the hell out of him? I mean, I don't know how I ended up kissing him, but I don't want to stop. Like, never want to stop. So I don't pull away. Instead, I bite on his bottom lip, hoping he'll kiss me back.

And he does. Like, hell yes he does! He gives in with a sexy grunt, picks me up by my butt, and allows me to wrap my legs around his hips.

Ho-lee crap, I like that. A lot.

He whips me around so I'm trapped between him and the door. His tongue slides past my teeth and I suck on it, hoping he'll never take it back. Oh yes, yes, yes. He's the best kisser in the whole freaking world! Even with the frenching, it's not sloppy or gross, it's just so flippin' fantastic!

His fingers linger on my sides as deep moans escape his throat. Damn, that's hot. I can't stop my own passionate noises when his hips press into mine, making the door creak with every movement we make. Oh. My. Gosh. Oh gosh, oh gosh, oh gosh. Everything gets warm as I feel every part of him I've wanted for so long against me. His hand moves from my side to the inner workings of my knee, pulling me closer, which I didn't think was possible.

Is this really happening? Is he letting go of everything I've done to him? Everything I put him through? Does he want me just as much as I want him?

The weird thing is I'm not afraid of this. With every other guy it was so different. Like, it wasn't me kissing them. And when things got too heated I'd jump back in my body and tell them to get their paws off. But with Sonic, I'm here—like the real me, Freak Amy, and she wants this too.

I leave his lips for a moment to kiss behind his ear, biting his lobe and involuntarily moaning as I let him explore my body with his hands. But before I get back to his amazing mouth, he backs off, dropping me flat on my butt.

"No," he says between breaths. "Amy, I can't." He starts mumbling a whole bunch of sorries and keeps his front from my view.

It takes me a minute to catch my breath and get in a comfortable position on the floor. And for the room to stop spinning. "Why… why not?"

"I can't do it again." He interlocks his fingers behind his head and starts pacing, still keeping his back to me.

"Do what again?"

"This!" He finally turns around. "You. Me. I don't think I have it in me."

"What?" I can feel everything inside my chest tighten. Oh gosh, I don't want to have this conversation. I don't want to hear how horrible I am, because I already know.

"I can't fall for you again, Ames. Especially now."

My eyes widen, but other than that, I try to keep my composure. "Why not?"

"Because I don't know who you are anymore."

There's more tightening in the chest area, and something heavy falls into my stomach as what he says sinks in. "But, you know exactly who I am. You're the only one who knows who I am."

"That's my point. Why am I the only one who gets to see both sides of you?"

My eyes drop to the floor. "You should know the answer to that."

"Why should I know? You're so hot and cold. One minute you're the girl who used to be my friend, spouting off inside jokes, playing video games, laughing. But then you become someone who's ashamed of not only me, but yourself." He stops as I take it all in. I don't know what to say because he's right. And I have no idea how to explain it.

"What happened last night?"

I gulp and give him the only answer I have. "I drank. A lot."

"And kissing me just now. Was that some kind of side effect?"

I shrug as waves of stupidity roll over me. "T-that's not why… I-I mean I didn't mean to… It just sort of happened."

"Like before? It just happened and then you…"

He pauses for a second, and I shift on the floor to my knees in case I need to bolt from the room crying.

"Look," he says, his voice softening, "my dad left when I was thirteen. My mom was a mess, and she used work to help her escape it all. I only had one thing." He pulls me up from the floor. "You."

My heart thumps an extra beat as his eyes meet mine, and he drops my hand.

"You took my mind off everything. Playing video games, going to conventions, watching The Werehog all in one day and repeating the Japanese language to me. You made me laugh, and it was something I could only share with you."

"Is that why it's important to you?" I whisper.

He ignores me. "I couldn't help but feel something more for you. I thought you felt it to, but then things got all screwed up."

I wrap my arms around myself, trying to hide the word "guilt" which I'm sure is painted all over my body. He turns away, and leans his forehead against his door before punching the wood with his fist.

"You cut me out, Ames. The one person who helped me through everything, and you left. Just like he did."

My mouth drops. Is that seriously how he feels? Comparing me to his prick of a dad?

Crap, he's totally right though. I did bail. I didn't think it was possible to sink into a lower spot than I was before, but here I am, plummeting down into the pits of emotional hell.

"And now both of you are trying to get back in my life, without so much as an 'I'm sorry'."

He turns back around, his hair falling in his eyes. They're watery, but he's not crying. It's more like he's torn. So frustrated with himself. His dad. Me.

"I never left," I mutter. "Not really." Because Freak Amy is still here.

The corner of his mouth twitches. "Yeah, with you, it seems worse. I have to see you every day. I see you fall short of who you could be all the time. I hear things about you. Things I know can't be true because you're better than that. And hating myself for thinking, what if you're not? What if everything is true? And you've become a different person? And I've lost you forever?"

"You'll never lose me." He won't. I'm still me… somewhere, and especially with him. I'm still me.

He shakes his head and doesn't look at me. I cross the room and grab his face, forcing those dark eyes to look into mine.

"I'm. So. Sorry. For everything." Crap here come the waterworks. I sniffle and try to push them away. "I still feel everything for you. Still…" I want to say it but I can't. Not now. Not after being compared to his dad. Not after everything I've put him through over the past few years. Saying everything I feel for him would be wrong right now. "Want you to just smile."

His eyes tighten, and I hope he's ready to give into me again. But his voice comes out low and hurt, tossing my expectations for anything more with him right out the window.

"I don't believe you."

I've lost the ability to breathe. Like I've been shot with poison directly in my lungs. "What?"

"I don't believe you're sorry."

Now my breathing is abnormal, like hyperventilating to the point of passing out. "Why not?"

"What'll happen on Monday, Ames? When we're back in school and I want to hold your hand in the hallway? When I want to say more than two words to you? When I want you to sit with me at lunch?"

I don't answer. I can't answer without it hurting either one of us.

"Yeah, that's what I thought." He wiggles from my hold, and I let him, still too stunned and hurt and guilty to move at all.

I hate crying. It seems like it's all I ever do. And I will not cry in front of him again. He's not the reason why I feel like this.

I am.

"Um, can you forget about this?" I wish I didn't have to ask that so much. And really wish my voice didn't crack a million times in that sentence.

His green eyes shine as he looks at me, his face fighting between hurt and concern. He still worries about me, even after all I've done. I so don't deserve him.

He finally opens his mouth to say something, and I can tell he's still fighting his torn emotions. "I don't want to forget. Even though you were backwards drunk," he reddens as his eyes flick to his bathroom, "you're close to the girl I used to know."

I try to smile, but not sure how it looks. Maybe I can get in some sort of, I don't know, gratitude or something, because I totally sucked at that. And because he needs to know I do care about him. "Um, thanks for helping me last night. My parents would've killed me if I… yeah. So, thanks."

He nods, shuffling his feet. He grabs his jacket and walks over to me.

"Come on, I'll make sure you get home okay."

x.X.x

Yeah, I know I said this was supposed to be finished by New Years but a lot has come up since I last posted that were much more important than this but at least here is the next chapter you've been all waiting for. I will write the next when I have time. Happy New Years Everyone