Darkness Before Dawn

for a moment before I recover my thoughts. "I was not checking you out! I was trying to figure out what your tattoo is. There's a difference. Besides, you're not in your uniform today. It's weird to see you wearing grown up clothes." He doesn't really wear a uniform, but most of the time he's dressed in jeans, a white T-shirt and a leather jacket.
    He shakes his head. "If you say so." I can hear the disbelief in his voice and it makes me want to throw something at him.
    I roll my eyes. "Do you have another magazine for me?"
    He's been bringing me magazines to help my boredom. I have to hide them whenever Alex comes to check up on me just in case, but that's a small price to pay for entertainment. I may not know what's going on in the world, but I know which celebrity couples are together and what the latest trend fashion is. So far, Drew Barrymore got married and Jessica Simpson had a baby. Maybe if I had kept up with gossip before, this would be exciting for me to know, but frankly, I don't give a damn. I sigh dreamily at my own thoughts as I daze off thinking of Gerald O'Hara. God, I need to get the fuck out of here! You know it's bad when you're daydreaming of an old dead guy.
    "You're such a pain in the ass," Dean says with a laugh, and then suddenly stops when he sees me wipe my tears. "Shit. I was kidding, chick, you didn't have to go and cry about it." I bury my face in my hands before more sobs can escape. How pathetic am I that I can't be called a pain in the ass without crying? Once I calm down, I wipe my face again and bring the tray onto my lap, avoiding his gaze.
    "So, you don't like being called a pain in the ass?" he asks quietly. I know he's trying to keep the conversation light, but I'm not in the mood for any of it.
    "No," I grumble before taking a bite of toast. "I don't like being called anything."
    He sits in front of me and watches me eat in silence. When I finish, I get up and head to the bathroom, leaving him sitting on the floor by my bed.
    I sit up on the counter and begin to draw circles over the green bruises on my calf. That's all I am these days, cuts and bruises—inside and out. I snap back to reality and hop off the counter, picking up my hair in a messy ponytail as I open the door, hoping to walk into an empty room, but Dean is still there flipping through my magazine.
    "You gonna sit here and read old gossip all day or you gonna try to help me out?"
    He raises an eyebrow. "This is new gossip and I am trying to help you out."
    As he walks over to me, I notice our difference in height. For some reason I've never noticed the way he towers over me. Probably because I'm always looking at the ground, unless I'm sitting on it. He's definitely not as tall as Cole, nothing about his physical appearance is like Cole's. Cole is tall and muscular, Dean is tall and lean. Cole has more of a playboy face, whereas Dean is more of a rugged pretty boy. The only thing they have in common is that swagger, or spark that some guys have. The one that draws you to them, even though you know in the back of your mind that you will get burned once you get too close. When he leans close to me, I take in his scent of nicotine and cinnamon before he hands me the magazine, making me flinch a little.
    He holds my stare as we both grip either side of the magazine. "Chill out, I'm not gonna hurt you, chick."
    "You are hurting me," I whisper as I sit down on the bed and look down at the magazine. It looks blurry through my eyes, so I can't make out who's on the cover of this one. He cups his hand under my chin and lifts my face to look at him, but I turn out of his hold. "Don't touch me, please."
    He exhales heavily. "I'm sorry about your sucky situation, and I'm sorry you're the one that has to deal with the mess others have made."
    "I just wish I knew why this was happening to me," I say quietly as I stare at my chipped red nail polish.
    "I dunno the whole story, but from what I've heard your dad screwed Benny over. Alex's beef with your dad is personal though," he says quietly.
    I take a deep shaky breath. "How did my 'dad' screw them over?" I ask, emphasizing the word that's so unfamiliar to me, just like the man himself.
    "Well, from what I've heard-"
    "Dean! I've been calling you, where's your goddamn phone?" Alex shouts as he stomps over to my room. I hide the magazines under my pillow and bring my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around myself. Dean gives me a grateful look before picking up the tray