Tell Me Your Truths

One Year Ago The weight of Ayla hanging on my left shoulder grounds me to reality that she's gone and done it again. I walked up the steps of my porch, my feet lightly bouncing on each step making Ayla's dangling arms sway from side to side. I hear her moan. "Don't worry, big girl. We're almost there." Jared's party was a bust, I didn't even know she was there. My little friend group consisting of my two brothers, Dane and Ayla created a system to follow whenever we attended these functions. At least one of us had to be sober to watch over the rest. And that someone was always my older brother, Julian, who seemed to always have an aversion to getting drunk. I can't blame him, since losing control was somehow a manic fear of his. So, the shitty mantle of being the fun police at parties is crowned to that inflated head of his. Talk about boring. He needs to get laid in every aspect of the f*****g word. God knows that on and off girlfriend of his don't do him good in bed no more. I look back out the lawn to where Julian and Sierra were engaged in a now heated argument for God knows what this time. Shaking my head, I head inside the house, not bothering with their issues. They better not fuckin' mess around near my truck. God knows I've had my fill of car smashing in a week. Fuckin' miss my Convertible. The same one Ayla's gangster of a boyfriend smashed for losing a d**k swinging competition. So long as Julian and Sierra don't wake up Ayla tonight, I'll leave them to their business. This girl needed a fuckin' break. Walking up the stairs, I carry her to my room, pushing the door open with a leg. I gently laid her down on my bed like I routinely do for the past two years since I've known her. I tuck her inside the duvet, laying two large pillows on both sides of her body just how she likes it. Claims it was a comfort being trapped between small spaces. That's fuckin' weird if you ask me. Most people wanted to stay away from tight spaces. But then, Ayla is not like most people. Hard as rock yet gentle Ayla who gave no qualms about anything in her life. My fingers smooth away the piece of hair that was covering her face, her shallow breathing indicating she was fast asleep. Ayla was beautiful in a steal the room kind of way. When I first met her freshman year sitting at the bleachers at Orientation Day, she was quiet but she had a lot to say in that silence. She never picked fights but was always ready to end one when the need arises. A spitfire who doesn't take anyone's s**t. But then Cole's crew had to go and recruit her for his drug dealing s**t. Cole Fuckin' Jenkins, whose brother's drug empire was passed down to him when big bro got busted with a sentence to serve a fuckton of years in jail. It was also Cole Fuckin' Jenkins who wrecked my Convertible last week when his goons broke into Ridgewood High. And it sure as hell was Cole Fuckin' Jenkins who turned Ayla into a mess. I don't blame her for wanting to earn money above the average minimum wage, I just hate the fact she's doing it illegally. I'm not above stating what's wrong and what's right since I've had my fuckin' fair share of morally questionable acts. But Ayla was smart, she knows how to get out of trouble before it even begins. Unfortunately for her, this was a rut she would have trouble getting out of. I gently place a kiss on her forehead, careful not to wake her up. I move away from the bed, leaving her to rest. I think I still have a couple of Advil on the cupboard in the kitchen. I'll run to the store tomorrow morning to get her a juice pouch, strawberry as she always liked, since we ran out of those last week. "Elio?" I hear her soft voice break the quiet air. I look back and see Ayla sitting up on the bed looking groggy with her droopy eyes and lips turned down. Even in a state of lethargy, she still looked breathtaking. I give her an innocent smile. "Hey, I'm here," I reassured her. "Go back to sleep." I don't think she heard me. "Did I drink . . . too much again?" Her words were slurred. I sit next to her on the bed, propping my leg under my ass. If this was some other day, she would've shooed me away and told me to eat s**t then claiming the bed as her own. "Yeah. At least you're not responsible for twenty thousand dollars worth of damage this time," I joke. Let's just say, most days her alcohol intake sometimes leads to expensive repercussions. That's how our safety system was born. Out of wedlock in the form of erratic behavior and poor judgement. You can put that in my resume. Harboring helpless people in a nonprofit organization founded by the Pavlov brothers. Ayla didn't respond, instead her gaze lazily focused on something behind me, her conscious thoughts lost in the sea of drunken thoughts rapidly zooming across her head. "Rest up, you'll feel better tomorrow." Here eyes went up to mine. "Where's Sierra?" Her soon-to-be stepcousin. Her mother was set to marry Sierra's uncle. Ayla's not supposed to go to parties anymore since that twenty grand fiasco. Ayla's fuckin' lucky like a horseshoe that Jared, the host of that said party, owed Julian big time for whatever the fuckin' hell Jared's schemes managed to piss him off. One minute in a room alone and Jared was like a forgiving saint. The magic of fuckin' blackmail and reputation. Since Ayla neglected to inform us she was going to tonight's party, I'm guessing her back-up plan was Sierra so she'd have someone to drive her home. Smart. But not fuckin' smart enough. She's going to have an earful from me tomorrow. "She's downstairs. Don't worry about it, she's okay." I don't tell her about the heated argument her friend and my brother were having out on the lawn. She's got enough on her plate for tonight. She seemed satisfied and closed her eyes. I gently push her back down on the bed, but her palms went to my wrist, stopping me. "Can I tell you something?" she whispered, dragging the letters as she spoke. I hummed, gently caressing her cheek with my knuckles. I remember when she used to cuss me out whenever I touched her face or squeezed her cheek. She absolutely hates it. But tonight, I was getting a free pass. She gave a lazy smile, opening her eyes. "You look so handsome." I smirk. Not that she needed to say it for me to know. I mean, come on, who wouldn't want to get with the captain of the football team? "Yeah? Is it possible for you to say that again in a voice recording?" I pull out my phone. I was absolutely going to have a field day with this tape. Not that I was going to use it for blackmail purposes, but it was going to annoy the hell out of her when she finally sobers up. I would finally get to one up her after that "Dancing Queen" she posted online of me in the f*****g shower at the boy's room. Let's say, my ass wasn't so fond of the picture it painted him to the whole world. Again, she doesn't respond. Her eyes travelled down to my lips. I stiffen. "And that mouth," she slurred. "What I would give to have a taste of them." He mouth parted slightly, her tongue darting out just a few inches. What the hell was she doing? She's never expressed this much fondness for me before. Now I really had to press record on my camera. But I was a gentleman, and a gentleman doesn't take advantage of vulnerability. Setting aside my phone, I gently grabbed her hand off my wrist and set them down on the duvet. "Ayla, you're not thinking straight—" Before I could finish my sentence, her lips dart out to catch mine. My eyes widen, trying to make sense what is currently happening right now. Ayla Morales was kissing me with her eyes closed, savoring the feel of my mouth against hers. And I found myself kissing her back. She shoves her tongue inside in a desperate lust kind of way and the heat from her tongue rushes down to my groin creating a swell against my jeans. Her hand flies to the back of my neck, pulling me down with her on the soft cushions of my pillow. f**k, her lips feel so soft. Without thinking, I thread my fingers against her long brown hair, tugging on it sideways to exposing her neck. I dive in, savoring the feel of her tight skin. She smells so good. Her grunts and moans only spurred me on. As if my inhibitions suddenly powered up after the minute-long make-out session spurred on by my best friend, I break my assault on her neck. Guilt instantly filled my whole being. When I look up at Ayla, her lids were tightly shut, indicating she was fast asleep. Fuck, I just made a huge mistake. But I liked it. This was bad. Extremely bad. It wouldn't be so much if she didn't have a boyfriend and I wasn't in a relationship of my own.