Quick, heavy footsteps start stomping up the stairs toward us. 

Cruz and I freeze in each other's arms. 

I stare at him with round, panicked eyes. "Fuck!"

He looks back at me anxiously. "Shit!"

We scramble to get away from each other.

Trying not to freak out, I squeak, "He's coming! What should we do?"

Cruz orders in surprisingly calm tones, "Get out of my room before my dad sees you."

Despite my distress, I still insist on staying with Cruz, "I'm not leaving you. Your dad sounds like he wants to kill someone."

Cruz only got suspended because of me. This whole shitshow is my fault. I'm not about to abandon Cruz when Ron's on a rampage.

"Let me handle him," Cruz pleads, "if my dad finds you in here, it'll only make things worse and harder to explain. I'll be fine, I promise. Don't worry."

The footsteps are growing louder. They're coming closer.

Anxiously, I think back to Ron's overblown reaction to my googly-eyed prank on Cruz's laptop.

Goddamnit!

Maybe Cruz is right?

Maybe I'll only make things worse for him by sticking around?

"Fine," I relent reluctantly, "but I'll be eavesdropping the whole time. The moment something doesn't sound right to me, I'm rushing in!"

Cruz gives me a small, reassuring smile and urges, "Just hand me those earbuds on my desk and get the hell outta here. Please."

I don't question his request and do as I'm told. I sprint over to grab the earbuds and toss them at Cruz. He catches the earbuds with one hand as I dash out the door. From there, I head straight into the guest room that shares a wall with Cruz's bedroom. I press my ear against the shared wall to listen, to wait, to see what Ron will do to Cruz.

My heart is beating like crazy in my chest.

I'm scared for him.

Seconds later, I hear Ron enter Cruz's room and growl in menacing tones, "The fuck, Cruz! Why are you still here? Sitting on your lazy ass? Didn't you hear me call for you downstairs?"

"Sorry, dad, I didn't hear you. I had my earbuds on."

Cruz's lie sounds muffled through the wall.

Ron snaps, "Funny how you're in the mood for music after the shit you pulled today."

"I know what I did was wrong. I'm so sorry, dad. I swear, I won't let this happen again."

To my ears, Cruz's reply sounds emotionless, monotone, like, he's reading from someone else's script in someone else's life.

It sets me on edge.

Ron continues to rail at Cruz, "What the hell were you thinking? Don't you know who Brody's father is? Carson Carlisle is one of my golfing buddies. How am I supposed to look him in the eye after what you did to his son?"

Ron's hostile demeanor is making me nervous.

Is he about to get violent again?

What if he chucks a book or something at Cruz?

The muscles in my calves tense up as I get ready to run back into Cruz's room at a moment's notice.

Cruz offers, "I can talk to Brody if you want—"

His dad cuts him off, "What's the point? What's done is done! You already fucked everything up."

"Dad, please, I already said that I was sor—"

"You're so goddamn selfish! Just like your whore of a mother. Neither of you ever appreciated anything I did for our family. Everything I do, I do for you, and then you go and bite the fucking hand that feeds you. I can't believe you got yourself suspended. Do you have any idea how badly your shit reflects on me as a parent?"

"You're right, dad. I really messed up this time. I can't apologize enough for what I've done."

"Next time," his dad snarls, "if you even think about starting another fight at school, I'm going to punch you out myself."

This sounds like a threat if I ever heard one. I start hurrying towards Cruz.

"Like I said, dad, it won't happen again. I promise."

Ron barks, "You better be on perfect behavior from here on out. I'm talking straight A's. 4.0 GPA. W's at all of your games. One more fuck up, and you're done. As long as you live under my fucking roof, you do things my fucking way. You hear me, son?"

"I hear you, dad. Don't worry. I won't let you down."

Before I reach the hallway, I hear Ron's footsteps exit Cruz's room. Their entire exchange has left me with a terrible, disgusted feeling in my stomach. I'm no parenting expert, but there was something that felt extremely wrong and gross about the way Ron kept talking down to Cruz.

I could tell he wasn't trying to discipline Cruz to make his son a better person. Ron didn't even bother asking Cruz to share his side of how the fight with Brody went down. Ron didn't ask about Cruz's scrapes and bruises from the fight, either, to see if his son was okay.

Ron wasn't disciplining Cruz. He was trying to dominate, to control, and to belittle. Cruz's submissive replies only made their dynamic all the more fucked up. It felt like Cruz had been trying his best not to rile shit up, so Ron's wrath might simmer down and blow over.

Would Ron treat Aunt Katrina like Cruz after their wedding?

Who knows.

But I imagine he can't keep his true colors hidden from her forever. I really want to warn my aunt about Ron even though she probably won't listen to me. If this was merely a glimpse into what Ron was capable of, then I didn't blame Cruz's mom for leaving the man. I did blame the woman, though, for abandoning Cruz to fend for himself. No child should have to grow up, alone, with a dad like Ron.

My mind shifts back to all of the crazy shit I just overheard. I feel so bad for Cruz. The one-sided onslaught with his dad couldn't have been an easy thing to endure, and, all of a sudden, more than anything, I feel the need to check up on Cruz.

To see that he's okay with my own two eyes.

To understand more about his strained relationship with this dad.

So I know how to be there for him.

I grab my phone and text Cruz: u okay?

He texts back: Yeah

I'm not convinced, but I know better than to approach Cruz while Ron is at home. Ron is still fuming, and I don't want the man to overhear us talking about him.

I message him: if u wanna chat, i can meet u at the park in 5 min?

I stand in the hallway and wait for Cruz's reply. A few seconds goes by. Then, a full minute slips away.

No response from Cruz.

I walk over to his bedroom and tap lightly on the door before poking my head through the crack. "Hey..."

Cruz glances up with a stony expression, but, otherwise, he looks fine. I don't think Ron laid a hand on him. Thank fuck.

"Sorry for not replying right away," Cruz apologizes with somewhat guilty eyes, "but... I don't feel like talking at the moment."

I can feel him withdrawing from me, and the feeling is kind of shitty even though I know it's not fair to hold it against him.

"That's cool," I respond gently, forcing myself to be chill about it, "we can always talk... later."

He mutters, "Yeah. Later."

"Will you be okay by yourself?"

"I'll survive."

I take a hesitant step towards him. "You don't have to say shit, but, if you'd like another warm body in the room, I'm down to watch a movie or something."

"That's probably not a good idea," Cruz reminds me, "since my dad is home. I don't him to see us together."

I know I shouldn't take it personally, but his rejection stings a little.

I thought Cruz liked me?

I thought we were kind of dating?

Why doesn't he want to talk to me about this shit?

I try not to dwell on these loaded questions. This moment isn't about me. It's about Cruz, and whatever he needs to do to decompress from his heated run-in with Ron. Feeling like an extra cookie that no one wants to eat, I make my retreat by backing out the door in slow, shuffling steps. "I guess... I'll head to my room. Text me if you need anything, okay?"

As Cruz watches me go, he suddenly calls out, "Wait."

I pause in mid-shuffle. My head snaps towards him with hopeful eyes. "Yes?"

He coughs in a sheepish manner. "I know I'm acting kinda weird right now, especially after we just kissed, but... I think... I need some time to... calm down. Alone."

I reply, "No, no, that's cool. You do whatever you gotta do!"

To my surprise, Cruz adds, "I'll come find you later tonight. We can talk then. Is that okay?"

My expression softens at his attempt to reconnect with me. I'm so relieved that he's not pushing me away for good. I don't mind waiting a few hours. If my guy needs a little space right now, then I'll give it to him.

Happily, I assure Cruz, "That would be more than okay. I'll be waiting."