**"But now take me home**
**Take me home where I belong**
**I can't take it anymore." - Aurora**
*Flashback - Part 1*
The school felt more stifling than usual. The smells from the cafeteria mingled with the rain outside—sandwiches and wet earth in an exotic combination that evoked the nostalgic atmosphere of school life.
I had never been a bad student, much to the surprise of most people around me. I enjoyed studying, and if life had allowed it, I would have been one of those nerds sitting in the front row.
But what can one say about life? An unpredictable hurricane that thrusts you into a home you didn’t ask for, with people you don’t know and are expected to love. Where’s the divine beauty in not being able to choose your own future?
I wish I could have chosen. I wished I could have handpicked the parents who would give me a peaceful life, and who would offer me affection and protection. After all, isn’t that what parents are supposed to do?
But I, Alissa Blake, had been dealt a sort of divine punishment. I don’t feel special because of it. It’s just a shame.
I had been willing to love Gerald and Helena, my biological parents. When I was five, I wrote them little notes and made my bed in my clumsy way, hoping it would lift their spirits. But nothing worked.
The arguments were constant. And if they were unhappy, I had to be unhappy too.
School seemed like a good option. Once I realized I could spend hours away from home, I was thrilled. Maybe it would make them less angry with me. What a mistake.
Now I had two places to feel oppressed. One with rich, snobbish students, the kind who never had to go to bed hungry and couldn’t understand why I savored the free school lunches while they spent dollars upon dollars at the fancy cafeteria.
They didn’t understand what someone like me was doing there, much less why I didn’t have nice clothes instead of secondhand rags. How could they understand? They were born with everything. They had the world at their feet.
And amidst that teenage jungle, I found him. Holden saw me in the hallway, flashing that wide, effortless smile of his, the kind that seemed to take a piece of me with it. He was gorgeous.
Thick, wavy black hair, sun-kissed skin, and green eyes. He had that rock star vibe without actually being one—dressed in black, ripped clothes, yet always polished, a reflection of his financial comfort.
“Want to come over today?” He leaned against the locker beside mine, his voice loud, almost deliberately so. Holden seemed eager for everyone to know we were friends, not realizing it could cause him problems. “My parents are coming home late. We could... I don’t know, study?”
I rolled my eyes at him, trying to mask how much I wanted to smile.
Study, sure.
Holden was rarely subtle about his intentions. Despite being surprisingly respectful compared to other boys his age, he was still a boy.
Even so, I nodded. That’s what I did around him—give in. I wasn’t the kind of girl who got invitations, much less to someone like Holden Young’s house.
When we arrived, the scent of books and polished wood enveloped me. The house was enormous, as always. While I took off my damp coat, I felt his eyes on me.
“Hey, Ali!” he called, seeing me lost among the books. “Are you okay? You’re acting strange today.” His tone was calm, but I knew he was worried. Holden worried too much.
I just nodded.
I didn’t tell him about the purple marks on my arm, hidden by the sweater sleeves. I didn’t tell him how they burned every time I moved.
Holden seemed like he wanted to press me further, but instead, he shrugged and smiled.
“How about a movie?”
I agreed because speaking felt impossible at that moment. He put on a DVD—Pride and Prejudice. The romance wasn’t my thing, but Holden was the kind of guy unashamed to admit how much he loved love stories.
We watched in silence, but my mind was elsewhere. I couldn’t stop focusing on the scenes where the protagonist shone, her beauty lighting up every frame. Admiration or envy? Maybe life in that era seemed more enchanting than modern times, and ethereal beauty was easy to idealize.
“I wish I were like that,” I murmured, more to myself than to him.
“Like what?” he asked, tilting his head.
“Beautiful,” I replied without thinking. “Dazzling. The kind of person everyone notices.”
He looked at me as if I’d just said something absurd. “You are beautiful, Alissa.”
I turned to him, disbelief etched on my face. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No,” he said, nonchalantly, then started listing. “Your eyes are incredible, like the sky after a storm. And the way you tie your hair when you’re annoyed…”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Holden…” I stopped him, looking at his goofy face, those big eyes full of expectation.
Before I could think, I kissed him. It was clumsy, almost impulsive, but filled with everything I felt and had never said. He froze for a moment but then kissed me back, slowly, as if discovering something entirely new.
It was warm, and comforting, like wrapping yourself in a blanket after a cold day.
And then… oh, it was a blur. Shy touches and nervous smiles. Discovering the world through each other, some touches clumsy, others deliberate. One piece at a time, until we gave ourselves completely.
I had never felt anything like it. For a few hours, the world seemed simple.
We lay there for a while, silent, both staring at the ceiling, unsure of what to say. My mind spun with unwritten words, while Holden seemed lost in a melody he hadn’t yet found.
That day, we became one.
But the sound of a car pulling into the driveway shattered the magic.
“My parents,” he said, his eyes wide. My heart raced. I didn’t want to leave. I didn’t want to leave that moment behind.
I grabbed my things in a hurry—some books he had lent me, and the iPod he insisted I borrow. We rushed down the stairs, his hand in mine.
“Go out the back,” he whispered, opening the side door.
I ran to the gate, trying not to look back. But I wasn’t fast enough.
“And who are you, and what are you doing here?” Holden’s father. I recognized him from the portraits. In person, he was even more intimidating. Beside him stood his mother, elegant but with a cold stare from the paintings.
Holden sensed something was wrong and appeared moments later. “This is Alissa, my girlfriend.”
My eyes nearly popped out of my head when I heard him say that. To make it worse, he was only wearing sweatpants, nothing else.
I wanted to bury my face in the grass and disappear, but I was trapped in this mortifying moment and had no choice but to endure it.
“Girlfriend?” his mother asked, puzzled.
“Yeah. I’ll take her home. Just let me grab a shirt,” Holden said, giving me a quick kiss on the cheek before leaving, abandoning me with them.
They both looked me up and down, scrutinizing me despite the dim garden lights. But it was enough to see what they needed—a girl who didn’t belong in their world.
Worn-out, holey sneakers, a stained uniform, an old backpack bursting with Holden’s books and the iPod.
When Holden returned, we were still silent.
His father stepped forward, cutting him off before he could speak. “You stay, Holden. I’ll take Alissa home.” A chill ran down my spine, but I couldn’t muster a word.
Holden tried to object, but his father was relentless. “See you tomorrow, Ali.” He squeezed my hand.
His father shot a single glance at Holden’s mother, who followed him back into the house. I walked to the car in silence, quiet and afraid. Little did I know I was sitting beside the man who would take away the only thing I had ever loved.