Andrea and Damyn by Anya (bts books to read txt) đ
- Author: Anya
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âSo, a girlfriend? Did she dump you, cheat, or something?â
âKind of. But I donât want to talk about it. Not now, not ever! And I said âdonât talk to meâ, because I donât trust women. Several have stabbed me in the back, one was more brutal than the others.â He confessed, his tone deadly serious. I was left speechless, paralyzed by the thought of his ex-girlfriend doing some horrible thing to turn his previous self into this. Damyn, on the other hand, was still clearly suffering from the side effects of his torment. When he talked about the betrayal, his eyes were pained and he spoke quietly until his ânot now, not everâ outburst.
I stared at him in shock, but Damyn was still suffering. He sat down beside his pack and pulled a ring out of his pocket. He held in his fingers, examining it. He held it up to the sun and twisted the ring this way and that, trying to read the inscription. He must have loved his girlfriend very much to be so broken and still hold on to her ring. But what did it signify for him? Why did he keep it, even after all of the pain heâs gone through? Most guys would have chucked the ring in the nearest stream and recovered from their loss, throwing themselves into another girlâs arms and forgetting about the previous girl. With Damyn, it was obviously different. What happened to him?
Chapter Two
Break came and went. Heck, so did the rest of the school day for that matter! Before I knew it, Damyn and I were exchanging addresses. Well, I was telling him my address without getting his. He was real secretive about it for some reason. Itâs probably related his to ex.
âWhy are you telling me youâre address, Andrea? Its not like Iâll ever come over, so whatâs the point?â
âI usually exchange addresses and numbers with my friends.â
âWhoa, wait! No. No, no! I am not your friend!â He exclaimed, shaking his head in confusion, then pointing his finger at me like he had this morning.
âYes, you are. You helped me get accustomed to my new school. And even though you might not think of me as a friend, I still think of you as a friend and that will never change, no matter what you say or do!â
âNo! We are not friends. Friends means hanging out, getting close, risking heartache. All three are things I do not wish. I am perfectly happy going solo and I will never get close to anyone else!â
âBut why? And a friend is also there when needed for the other, a shoulder to cry on. Someone to help you out of a tight spot, someone for you to trust. I would like to be that friend, since everyone is too scared to approach you. Please, Damyn. I promise, I wonât be like whomever made you so hard and cold. Let me be your friend, Damyn.â
âNo. I canâtâŠI couldnât handle it. As broken as I am now, even though I have nothing left to lose, if I let myself get close to you, how do I know you wonât be Bell? If I let myselfâŠopen my heart to you, in any way, how do I know you wonât betray me, rip my heart to pieces, and destroy what barrier Iâve managed to put up? How do I know I can trust you enough to fâŠâ He stopped, turning away. The pain from the past was back, and he had a lot of valid excuses for not letting me close.
âFall in love? Is that what you were going to say?â I whispered, shocked by how far his ex had managed to get before turning traitor. âIs that what happened? You fell for her, then she left?â I prodded. He looked like he was about to burst with the truth. He shuddered, tears and an intense pain entered his eyes. He put his head in his hands, gripping his hair. My protective instincts went into overdrive. I stepped forward, risking my sanity if he refused my comfort, put my arms around his waist and snuggled into his chest, trying to erase his pain simply by willing it to happen. He froze for a moment, trying to figure out how to respond to my hug, then put his arms around me, bending down to rest his head against my shoulder. He held me close, his body convulsing with tears and the pain of the past. I just held him tighter, close to tears myself. I tried to recreate what happened in my imagination and I was horrified by what Bell might have done. But, no matter what situation I put up, nothing could be have such lasting effects. Judging from the ease of his pushing everyone away, the reluctance to think or say anything about Bell, the number of tears running down his cheeks, and the intensity of his sobs, he had been alone for a long time. Years, perhaps. And no amount of dating betrayal could leave him scarred for years.
His hands gripped my back, bunching my shirt in his fists, pulling me flat against him. Trying to steady myself, I placed one of my legs between his, knowing there was enough room for it. I snuggled closer, telling him that I am here, will always be here, that he could trust me.
Then he collapsed. He fell to his knees, bringing me down with him. It was a much more natural position. He placed his chin on my shoulder, brought his arms around the top of my shoulders, moving one down my spine to the small of my back.
Not long after, his sobs were nothing but hiccups and he was pulling away from my embrace. I looked into his face and placed my hand on his cheek. He gripped my hand with his and rubbed his cheek against my palm. He opened his eyes and look into mine.
âThank you, Andrea.â He whispered, his eyes changed from pained to grateful and tender.
I smiled before pulling him into another hug.
âCongratulations, Andrea.â He whispered in my ear.
âFor what?â
âFor getting past my shield, for getting me to cry.â
âOh, come on, Damyn. I didnât do anything. Okay, so maybe I started the waterworks, but the rest was you. You were ready to spill and I was the one close and caring enough to help.â
âEither way, getting to me is a big deal. Making me cry is even bigger. I trust you, Andrea.â
I was speechless. He has given me his trust?
âI trust you, too, Damyn.â I replied.
Tuesday greeted me in the form of Damyn knocking on my door. My mom was the one who opened it. âAndrea, youâve got company!â She hollered.
âAlright! Iâll be right there! Invite him inside!â I replied, finishing my hair and starting on my makeup.
When I shot down the stairs a few minutes later, I rushed to the foyer, eager to see Damyn. Sure enough, there he was. He was sitting in the red love seat, admiring the painting across the room from him.
âDamyn.â I said, glad he was here. He spun to face me and his eyes light up.
"Wow. Andrea, you look really great." I blushed, knowing that such a mild compliment was not easy for him.
"Why, thank you, kind sir. What is the nature of your business on this Tuesday morning?" I asked, switching from my American accent to an obviously fake British of the late 1700s in London. He caught on to my game and, showing an impressive amount of manners, fisted his hands, brought his left behind his back and his right across his belly as he bowed at the waist. "To escort one Andrea Peters to her daily lessons at StoneCrest. Do I have permission to proceed with this task?" he finished beautifully when he stepped forward, grasped my right hand and brought it to his lips. "Although I must admit I am not very sure it is proper for me to be escorting such a beautiful maiden to such a common facility."
"But darling, that's the fun! What better way can I learn to think like them in order to avoid future problems, then to be one of them? And this is the first step. Commoner's school." My act was completely made up on the spot and it was so pathetic I had to struggle from laughing, turning me red. Damyn must have thought the same because he grinned like a fool and played along well.
"I suppose that is true."
Having nowhere else to go, we ended the facade and busted up laughing.
When we finally settled down, I grabbed my backpack and lunch money envelope and Damyn held the door for me when we went out. "But seriously, though, you do look beautiful."
"Thanks. If you think this is good, wait until Prom! The dress is going to knock you dead!"
"Oh, I find that rather hard to believe, but I'm sure you will look absolutely gorgeous anyway."
It was a short walk from my house to StoneCrest, but it was far enough for us to exit the 'Mansion District', as Damyn liked to call it, and enter his territory. Yes, I am filthy rich and I will occasionally show it, but only on special nights like Prom or Homecoming. My parents are big-shot photographers and with my novels selling like they are, our combined income is enough to buy several houses in cash. But I'm saving my money for college and starting up my future as part-time novelist and full-time bio-engineer. I have already published three novels and my pride and joy, 'Everlasting', has been on the nations bestselling list for five months now. The other two claim spots two and three of that same list.
We made it to English with no problems and we were seated and ready to start the day long before the bell rang.
Today, Mr. Jasper checked off our 'homework', checked to make sure we all had our ID Cards, then took us to the library
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