Thorn Ch. 02

DISCLAIMER (Since I didn't make one for the first chapter)

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Yes, this is a story about a bully conquering a wimp's mom. Yes, Aaron and Holly will have sex eventually. I want Holly to be a whole, believable character with flaws and qualities. No, Aaron will not be completely redeemed, and there is some humiliation content planned, but Holly still loves her son, after all. I want it to be as realistic as possible, and so I don't plan on Holly having sex with her son's bully until around Chapter 4 or 5, so if you want to wait until I hit those, feel free to do so and skip ahead to those chapters. This is my first real story on here and I envision it as more of a slow burn.

Finally, English is not my first language, so please forgive the occasional syntax weirdness or odd turns of phrases.

Hope you all enjoy nonetheless!

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Friday, October 14th, 2022

I was getting lost in the shifting shades of my son's black eye, which was now devolving into yellow and beige blotches. The bruise's edges were illuminated by the light from Eric's cellphone. I had tried to convince him to use concealer, but my boy wouldn't wear makeup if his life (and in this case, his reputation) depended on it.

I imagined the boy's knuckles colliding with Eric's brow, and a fresh wave of anger surged through me.Why haven't I gone to the principal about this yet? Or the police?!My son. Mybaby boy. The fact that the Adamik boy had dared hurt him... it was beyond me, truly.

Eric was scrolling on his phone, his cheeks bulging as he chewed on the pork chops I'd cooked. The kitchen was bathed in low, warm overhead light, and a profound silence only broken by the clinks of cutlery and the fridge's ice-making machine. I was used to it, at this point, but damn it if it didn't still hurt a bit. My son had never been the most sociable, but James' passing and the bullying had made him even more withdrawn. The scene contrasted heavily with faraway memories of James making a younger Eric laugh so hard he'd cry with his stupid imitations of movie villains.

It brought a smile to my face, but it quickly faded when Eric looked at me quizzically, like he'd just noticed I was wearing clown makeup.

I couldn't let the silence sit like that. It wasn't like it was going to resolve itself ; somebody had to take charge and do something about it.

"How was school, baby?" I eventually asked him. The question was a tired cliché, but I was hoping Eric would tell me if Aaron had kept his promise.

He finished chewing and swallowed slowly, looking unsure.

"It was alright," was all he said. He took a swig of his Diet Coke, and I noticed some wiry hairs starting to poke from the skin of his chin. He was a man, now.

"Just alright?" I hesitantly pushed.

He shrugged. "Sure." He was pushing the food around his plate with his fork without really touching it, and I understood his signaling. He didn't want to talk about it. Unwilling to make him even more uncomfortable, I nodded, accepting his answer.

Silence fell once more on our small, miserable family. I distracted myself by thinking about the potatoes.Damnwere they good. The seasoning I'd bought on a whim at the grocery store really made a difference.

"You know," I started, "I was thinking we could go and buy you some clothes."

Eric looked up at me, the brown eyes he'd inherited from me widening a bit. "Really?"

"Yeah! What do you think?"

He was smiling softly, giving me hope, but he shrugged. "I dunno. I was kinda wanting to save some money to buy some myself."

You don't have a job, sweetie. I kept these thoughts to myself and insisted, "Consider it an early birthday present. You deserve it, honey."

His smile widened, showing teeth. My heart squeezed at the sight. "That would... yeah, sure. I'd love that. Thank you, mom."

Yes! I don't know what was in the air that night, but I just couldn't stop winning.

"Great! We'll go tomorrow."

He nodded. After weeks of feeling like a stranger in my own home, Eric's reaction filled me with warmth.

"I like the food," Eric said. "Love the potatoes."

"I know, right?! I mean, thanks, sweetie."

He laughed a bit, restrained, like he was ashamed to find me genuinely funny. It made me smile.

Once we were done eating, Eric picked up his plate and washed it quietly.

"Thank you for dinner, mom."

"You're very welcome, sweetie. See you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, for sure."

He left his washed plate by the sink and started walking upstairs.

I was getting ready to load the dishwasher when his shy voice came down from the staircase.

"I love you, mom."

It stopped me in my tracks. My eyes filled with water at the sentiment.

"I love you too, Eric."

Later that night, the warmth left by the evening made me comfortable enough that I allowed myself to leave the sleeping pills on the bedside table. Natural sleep was a welcome embrace as I let my mind wander on what tomorrow was going to be like.

Saturday, October 15th, 2022

"No."

I sighed in frustration. I was holding up a t-shirt with broad coral, white, black and pastel blue stripes.

"Honey, you've said no to literally everything I've pulled out of the rack."

"Well, how about I choose for myself? Can't you let me pick the clothes I wanna wear?"

A little bit of respect would be nice for the woman who's paying for these clothes.

I bit my tongue and gave my son a wide smile. "Sweetie, you need to wear something colorful once in a while. If you keep wearing those gloomy clothes, it'll affect your mood. There's studies about that, you know. Confidence is fake-it-until-you-make-it!"

"So it's my fault I'm getting bullied, is what you're saying."

I blinked, taken aback. It took me a while to figure out his angle. How had he...

"What? No! No, honey, when did I say that?"

"Well, you're saying if I was wearing colorful stuff, I wouldn't be getting bullied."

I sighed. "You're putting words in my mouth. I never said that. All I meant was-"

"Whatever," Eric said, cutting me off.

The nerve?!

"No, not whatever. What is going on with you? Is Aaron still being an asshole?"

"I don't wanna talk about fucking Aaron again," Eric drawled. "I thought we were here to buy clothes?"

I shut my eyes for a second and took a deep breath, resisting the urge to snap at him for his language and his refusal to talk to me.He's an adult, now. You can't coddle him anymore.

"Okay. Why don't you look through the racks, and I'll buy you what you want. That okay?"

"Sure," he mumbled, disappearing into the rows of clothing.

What was I doing wrong? Every mention of that Aaron boy seemed to throw him into fight-or-flight. I knew he wanted me to leave it alone, but I was hismother. Wasn't it my job to keep an eye on him, protect him? Maybe it was hurting him more than helping. As a young man, he maybe needed to feel in control of his life.

To distract myself, I started looking through racks of shirts to find something for Eric. A peach-colored polo shirt was a no. Checkered button-up? No...

I was about to give up when I found him a dark, almost black crewneck shirt with a small electric blue kingfisher embroidered above the heart.

It felt like a compromise between us. His restraint with a splash of color.

Eric came back to me then, holding a pair of dark jeans.

"Hey," he started, a bit awkwardly. "I'm sorry for... the way I blew up at you. It wasn't right. I was just wondering... um... what did you do?"

"What do you mean?"

"At school. Did you go see the principal? Aaron stopped pushing me around. He won't even look at me anymore. I know you did something."

"I..."

Damn it. I knew this wasn't going to go over well.

"I went to school during my lunch break and I had a talk with him."

Eric's expression turned into one of horror. "You went to school? As in, you showed up in front of everyone?"

"Well... yes."

"Mom, you can't be serious! That just makes me look like a fucking baby who needs his mommy to come save him!"

"Who cares about any of that?!" I burst out. "You had ablack eye, Eric. If I didn't act, who knew what would've happened next? Plus, it worked, didn't it?"

"I guess," Eric shrugged. His cheeks were flushed.

"Look. I found this little number and I thought it'd suit you really well."

He opened his mouth to protest, and that was when my composure broke.

"Eric," I said sternly. "Try it, at least. Please."

"Okay," he mumbled.

I breathed and regained my composure as he walked to the changing room.

Did I not deserve a 'thank you', for basically handling the situation for him? He might have had a point, though. Had I overdone it? Maybe showing up to school had been a bad idea. I could've just called a meeting with the principal, or... or...

Why did it have to be me? Eric was about to go to college. Why did I have to fight his battles for him?

Eric stepped out, smoothing over the crewneck with his hands. My eyes widened.

He looked more polished, more mature, more... adult. My baby boy was an adult now.

"You look amazing, honey," I told him, my attitude from before softening.

He gave me a corner smile. "Thanks. I think I like it."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. I think we should buy it."

"Yes! I'm so happy, Eric!"

I pulled him into a hug and he chuckled.

"Thank you. For the shirt, but... for Aaron, too. Thank you, mom."

There he was. The sweet boy I knew so well hadn't completely left.

"I promise I won't embarrass you like this anymore," I told him.

We moved to the line to buy the shirt, and I celebrated internally.

My first goal of the day was checked off. I'd made Eric happy and I'd bought him some fine clothes. Now, for the second goal...

A knot of anxiety rose from my stomach into my throat. I could just stay home, with Eric, watch a movie, sleep in, and...

No. I was strong, I was capable. I would do it. Tonight, I was going to be that girl in the mirror again.

*

The black dress hugged my curves a littletoowell. I couldn't hide behind a baggy sweater like my son, and since I'd pushed him out of me, I had gained some stubborn weight that refused to go away.

I looked at myself one last time, in the tall bathroom mirror. I could hear Eric playing video games with his friends, soothing my fear of leaving him alone at home.

You are beautiful. You look amazing.

It wasn't like I was obese. I had simply gotten... curvier. Yeah, that was it. The dress stretched around my hips and my chest, but that was fine. I had my wavy brown hair done in a half-bun, like I used to do when I was younger, and I had even decided to put on some lipstick and mascara.

James used to say I was a 'light'. What good was a light if it was only allowed to shine in closed rooms?

I secretly harbored hopes that a man would meet me, find me beautiful and flirt with me. I didn't allow myself to fantasize any further, though. I was a mother, and I needed to be responsible.

Alright. You got this.

I made my way down the stairs and out of the house, remembering to lock the door, before climbing in my car.

I tried my hardest not to stare at myself in the rearview mirror as I drove, because the face I would see was full of doubt and anxiety. What would people say when they saw me, all alone, a forty-year-old mother? Would they pity me? Even worse,laughat me?

This wasn't high school, and I didn't care. That's what I told myself.

The thrill that was tightening my chest reminded me of my first outings, when I'd been twenty-one and new to the bar scene. Right before Eric had cut that part of my life off short. Well, not that it was his fault. I had chosen to have him, and I didn't regret it.

I pulled up in the parking lot of a local pub James and I used to go to a lot, when we were younger. It was familiar, yet exciting ; I hadn't set foot in there in years.

Without allowing myself to doubt for another second, I decidedly exited the car and entered the pub.

The smell was immediately comforting ; leather, beer, faint dust. Music was playing, quite loud, an old pop song. It made me smile to immediately notice younger women drunkenly singing along. How old had I been when that song got released? Sixteen?

The pub was split into two wings, with a central rounded space where the bar was. The right wing held a dancefloor and a few chairs along the side, while the left side of the pub was quieter, walls lined with leather booths while pool tables occupied the far side. I decided to settle in at the central bar, which was the perfect space to settle in, let my gaze rove upon the local fauna, get a first drink. All I could feel was the dress digging into my skin. I needed a drink, fast.

After a few seconds, the barmaid, a tired-looking woman in a dirty-blonde bun, smiled tightly at me.

"I'll take a beer, please, any one of your IPAs," I told her.

She nodded, "Coming right up."

I looked at the dancefloor to my right. It wasn't quite late enough for the dancier music to play yet, and there were only a few groups of people sticking together like penguins.

Then, I looked at the booths to my left.

My breath caught.

Shit.

Are you fucking kidding me?!

He was here, against all odds and most likely illegally. Aaron Adamik sat at a booth, arms lifted up against the leather on either side of him. He was laughing loudly at something one of his two friends said. Theonenight I decide to finally come out of my shell and have some fun is the same night my son's bully decides to show up. How had he even gotten in?! Anyone with a brain could see these boys weren't twenty-one.

When his gaze shifted toward me, I looked away, afraid to be caught looking at him. I waited for my beer patiently, hoping he wouldn't come over, but I sighed when I felt rather than saw someone sit beside me.

"Mrs. Fisher! What a surprise. Fancy seeing you here."

With a sigh, I turned to look at him. The little fucker was grinning like a kid in a candy store. His smile was wide and sincere, untarnished by shame or timidity like Eric's smiles usually were.

"I'm not talking to you," I said.

His smile widened. "You look amazing tonight, I have to say."

Ugh.

"How did you even get in here? You're a high-schooler."

"Don't be so loud," he hushed, looking around before producing a card from his wallet.

Taking a quick look at it, I saw the young man had a fake ID, complete with an accurate picture of his face and a fake date of birth.

"So you're that kind of teenage degenerate, huh? Should I maybe tell the bouncer?"

"Please don't," Aaron pleaded, bringing his hands together. I saw his eyes looking me up and down unabashedly.

"You really do look beautiful."

There it was, again. I tried to fight off the flush I could feel creeping up to my cheeks, but I couldn't.

You wanted to be noticed, didn't you? Well, you got what you wanted. The monkey paw's finger curls.

"What do you want?" I asked him, eager for him to stop flirting with me.

"Well..."

He actually looked a bit awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. I hated myself for noticing how it made his bicep bulge against the sleeve of his navy blue polo.

Damn it, Holly!

"I actually wanted to invite you to play pool with me and my buddies. There's three of us and that's hardly an easy number to split into two teams."

I blinked. "You think I'm going to playpoolwith you?"

He grinned again. "Yeah. Why not?"

"Because everything! I'm more than twice your age."

"So what are you gonna do? Drink alone?"

"Excuse me?"

He shrugged. "I don't mean to be rude, but... look around you. You didn't come with a friend. You gonna go dance on your own?"

I sighed. "I amnotplaying pool with a teenager."

"Alright. I don't think you'd be any good anyway."

I choked on air. "Why? Because I'm a woman."

"No. Because you're a mom," he said, a defiant look in his eye. He really was very handsome, with his dark-lashed eyes squinting slightly like this, a corner smile drawing the eye to the defined angle of his jawline.

A part of me was hesitating, burning to prove myself, to respond to his juvenile taunt. I looked over at his two friends, who were staring at us, grinning dumbly.

I knew what this probably was. A way to taunt Eric further, something to use to bully him even more. The fact that he was out in bars playing pool with his mom. The thing was... my pride simply couldn't take the insult.

"Alright, little man. I will play with you, ifonly!"

I stopped myself to sigh when he pumped his fist.

"Ifonly," I continued, "to prove to you that just because I'm a single mother doesn't mean I lost my skills.And, you have to promise me that you won't tell a word of this to Eric. Understood?"

He winced.

"Understood?"

"Sure. Okay. Damn it, I was looking forward to... never mind."

I was about to change my mind when the barmaid interrupted us.

"Ma'am, your beer."

"On me," Aaron said quicker than my motion to take my card out. Aaron slid a 10-dollar bill on the counter and told her to keep the change.

I glared at him. "I don't want you paying for my fucking drinks, you little asshole."

He just flashed another one of his damn grins. "I love how feisty you are. And I love how you drink beer, and not wine. Makes you cool."

I rolled my eyes.

"And also, I guess, as an apology for bullying little Eric."

Without a word, I got up from the stool, beer in hand, and followed him to his two friends.

Jake was taller than Aaron, with blonde hair only an inch longer than a buzzcut. He wore an emerald green hoodie and seemed languid, lazy, offering to shake my hand.

Max was louder, a bit rambunctious. He was wearing a brown shirt with a picture of a mountain landscape. His brown hair was messy and he had a shorter, stockier build.

"Hey, baby-Eric's mom decided to join us!" he announced.

It immediately made me dislike him. Jake, on the other hand, wasn't too bad.

Seeing the kind of guys Aaron hung out with made me wonder how much they influenced each other. It was decided that Aaron and I would be on the same team after a complex game of coin-flipping I didn't quite follow, letting my gaze float about the pub.

It was a bit awkward, at first, as we moved to one of the pool tables after paying. As soon as I got the cue in my hands, though, I started feeling thatthrum, the buzzing that used to surge through me whenever I played pool, younger. The young girl who had learned pool on her father's table, in his basement, was standing here, in my shoes.

When I sank two shots in a row, Aaron whooped, raising his glass and grinning his wide, boyish smile.

I couldn't really keep from feeling proud of myself for showing these cocky teenagers up.

Aaron wasn't half-bad either. He played with a cocky ease, sinking ball after ball. It irritated me a bit that he could live up to his bragging, but I was rather happy that I was on the winning team. Meanwhile, Max was getting grumpy, the alcohol clearly getting to him no matter how old he was trying his hardest to seem.

He whistled after another one of my turns. "Maybe if Eric was more like his mom, he wouldn't be such a fucking loser, am I right?"

"Watch it, Cooke," Aaron warned Max before I could say anything.

Max deflated instantly, and I was left slightly shocked, pondering on why Aaron had said that. Was he genuinely defending my son, or was he just trying to seem like he was in front of me, to gain my trust? I was exhausted of this guessing game, and decided I'd much rather believe he was being truthful.

I gave the cue to Jake, whose shot almost sank the eight-ball early. "I suck at this," he mumbled, making me laugh. Then, it was Aaron's turn.