by Hart, Rebel
And the pain in my neck quickly dissipated as her pillowy soft lips inched closer to mine.
11
Raelynn
“Are you sure you have to cancel? I mean, I’m sure Dad’s work will understand.”
Michael and I sat on the couch, listening as Allison bartered with her parents. We looked at one another with knowing looks. Our weekend was about to be flushed down the toilet.
“I get it. I understand. No, no, no, I’m not disappointed. I just know how much you were looking forward to this. Are you okay?”
I sighed as I pushed myself off the couch. I gathered up the snacks Allison had handed to me earlier and pressed them into my backpack. No use sitting on the couch if we had to get out of here before her parents got back.
“An hour out? Gotcha. Want me to order a pizza or something? I know that always makes you feel better.”
Michael grumbled. “Better get a move on.”
The two of us began packing ourselves up as Allison hung up the call. She came back into the room with a sorrowful look on her face. I held up my hand. I didn’t want her feeling bad for this. It wasn’t her fault. I mean, her mother was a stay-at-home mom, sure. But her father owned his own business. A few of them, in fact. And that always made for a very volatile schedule. This wasn’t the first weekend extravaganza his work had impeded, and it wouldn't be the last.
Allison sighed. “Well, I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you guys.”
I paused. “What do you mean?”
She shrugged. “I was hoping to celebrate this weekend. But since my parents are on their way back from the airport…”
Michael paused. “You got in somewhere, didn’t you?”
Allison smiled softly. “I got into UCLA. My first pick. I just got the acceptance letter a couple days ago. I’m officially in their architecture program.”
“Oh. My. Gosh!”
I squealed with delight as I rushed toward my best friend. I picked her up, swinging her around as laughter fell from her lips. Michael pulled her away from me and hugged her close. The two of them shared a long embrace as I watched, smiling from ear to ear. I walked up behind Allison and rubbed her back. Michael tucked her head underneath his chin while he held her close.
And for a split second, I was jealous of the relationship blooming between them.
Michael murmured. “I’m so proud of you.”
I smiled. “So am I, Allison. Really.”
She sighed. “That really takes a load off my shoulders, you know?”
“So what does that mean for your senior year? Can you coast it now?”
He chuckled. “She’ll have to submit her final report cards at the end of every semester. Just to make sure she keeps her grades up.”
“Well, that’s bullshit.”
Allison giggled. “I’m just so glad I got in, you know? I didn't want to leave California in order to study, and now I don’t have to.”
“Which means we can see each other all we want.”
She turned around, facing me. “Exactly.”
I embraced her again, hugging her close and swinging her from side to side. Michael wrapped his arms around both of us, trying to get back in on the action. I looked up at him, giving him a knowing wink. And after he was done blushing furiously, we all stepped away from one another.
“Ice cream. Sunday afternoon. That’s what we’ll do to celebrate,” I said.
Michael nodded. “And it’s on me.”
Allison rolled her eyes. “Not everything has to be on you.”
Michael scoffed. “Why don’t you two let me spoil you every now and again? I don’t get it.”
I laughed. “Because you’re always doing it.”
He rolled his eyes. “Fine. But I’m picking you up. Be ready by three? That sound good?”
And after Allison and I nodded, the three of us headed upstairs.
It was almost painful, walking away from our planned weekend. But I understood why we had to do it. I walked myself home, watching the sun set over the horizon as the smell of garbage and darkness filled my nostrils. I thought back on the conversation I’d had with my mother this morning. Maybe this would be a good time for our girls’ night in. I mean, with it being so last-minute and all that, she wouldn't have enough time to invite her bullshit boyfriend over.
Or so I thought.
“Hey, Mom. You here?”
She poked her head down the stairs. “Rae? I thought you were at Allison’s for the weekend.”
I set my bag down. “Her parents’ spa retreat or whatever had to be canceled because of her father’s work. So I’m home.”
“Oh, that’s nice.”
“Want to do our girls’ night tonight? I’ve even got some snacks in my bag. Some chips, some cookies. There’s a sandwich or two, too.”
Instead of seeing my mother smile, I saw her wince.
“What?” I asked.
She sighed. “I didn't think you were going to be home until Sunday. So I invited D.J. over for the night.”
“Ah.”
“I’m sorry, honey. It’s just that—”
I waved it off. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it. It was a last-minute thing anyway.”
“You can have dinner with us. He’s picking up something nice from that Italian place up the road. I could give him a call really quickly. You want some lasagna?”
I shook my head. “No, it’s fine. I’ve got plenty of food in my bag.”
“We could throw a movie in after dinner?”
“Mom, it’s fine. I promise. I have some homework I need to get done anyway if I have any chance of actually enjoying my weekend. You two have fun, okay?”
I carried my things up the stairs, brushing quickly by my mother. Of course she’d take this time to invite D.J. over. What the hell else did I expect? I made my way into my bedroom and closed the door, ready to tear into my reading for English while I munched on some cookies. I flopped onto my bed and pulled out my books. I spread out my snacks as my mouth began salivating. I didn’t know what it was about the on-brand cookies that tasted so good. But they were always better than the off-brand ones my mother bought.
However, I didn’t even get halfway through my reading before the fighting started.
“I’m sorry, D.J. I didn't realize you wanted me to get wine.”
He sighed. “Beer doesn’t go with Italian food. Are you that thick-headed?”
Mom scoffed. “Well, I’m not a wine connoisseur. I wouldn't even know what kind to get with noodles and shit.”
“No, you just know how to open your throat and chug it back so you can get drunk all the time. Right?”
“You’re the one always dragging me off to parties when I’m completely content hanging around here with you. Just you. In your arms.”
“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a boring little fuck, I wouldn’t always have to drag you to parties to get you to loosen up!”
I rolled my eyes as I reached for my headphones. Then I remembered that D.J. had thrown my iPod full of music against a fucking wall. Great. I hunkered down in my bed, pulling the covers over my ears. I tried blocking out their fighting as I struggled to get through my reading. But finally I couldn't take it any longer. It had taken me two hours to do what should have only taken forty-five minutes, and I couldn't take their arguing any longer.
Homework can wait.
Mom cursed. “Fuck, D.J.! I just wanted to have a nice night with you. Why did you have to come in here and blow a gasket first thing?”
D.J. snarled. “You cuss at me one more time and I’m going to show you exactly what dirty mouths like yours deserve.”
“Oh, really. A threat to hit me? Like you don’t do that enough as it is. You keep slapping me around enough and I just might hit back!’
“I’d like to see you try, you pathetic excuse for a woman.”
I shook my head as I slipped out of bed. I stored my snacks underneath my bed for a rainy day, then changed my clothes. I
put myself in the only sundress I had. I wanted to feel the cool summer air on my legs as I walked around. Because being anywhere right now was better than being here. D.J. was hot, then cold. Good, then bad. One week, he brought over flowers and money and gifts. And the next week, they were fighting downstairs until he decided to beat on my mom. I felt it coming, too. The beatdown. The cold to his hot.
And if I was here for it, I wasn’t too sure I wouldn't try to kill him.
“Just get out!” Mom yelled.
Something crashed against the wall before D.J.’s voice sounded.
“You’re lucky that didn’t land, you little bitch.”
I heard my mother on the verge of tears as I slipped into my tennis shoes. I pried open my window, feeling the cool summer breeze against my legs as I slipped out onto the roof. I shimmied down the drain pipe, dropping to my feet. And after smoothing my dress down over my knees, I took off for the road.
I couldn't stand it any longer.
I had to get the hell away from this place.
12
Clinton
I pulled into the driveway of my father’s mansion and sighed. Ten o’clock at night, with the party just getting started, and Marina’s parents had to ruin the whole fucking thing. I mean, come on. Women were practically fighting over me. I was teasing them to the high heavens, too. Acting like I’d kiss them, only to turn my head and start flirting with another. Chicks loved that shit. Loved working hard for a man they wanted. And I was working them in the hot tub like magic.
Until Marina’s parents busted the damn thing up.
Roy got to stay, though. I watched the way he sucked up to her parents. The way he started rattling on about trying to keep everyone safe and keep Marina away from the ‘ruckus.’ Oh, he sucked up well to them. Kissed their asses so much they actually let him stay. Roy! Of all fucking people! The boy who was fucking their daughter in the middle of the damn football field after school, and they let him stay. All because he knew how to put on a good show. All because he knew how to appear like the good boy before seducing his girlfriend.
I wish I had a girl to have some quality time with.
I shook the thought from my head. I got laid enough as it was. Quality time with a girl would only dampen shit like that. Once a guy started cuddling with a chick, that’s all she wanted to do. Cuddle. I’d have to start begging for blowjobs after that. And fuck that nonsense. Clint Clarke didn’t beg. If anything, women got down on their knees and begged to give me one. Just to say they had the pleasure of tasting my cock in their mouth.
The thought made me grin as I swung my leg over my bike.
Nope, there was no point in going steady with a girl. I hadn’t done it before now, and I had no intention of doing it later on in life. I didn’t see the point in it. Fucking around with one girl and her getting pissed off if I saw a nice ass walking by me. What was the point in that? Why spend my time begging to get fucked when I could go out any night and be guaranteed a fuck? Relationships were pointless. They destroyed people. Turned them into shadows of their former selves.
I should know, too.
I watched it happen with my mother.
I opened the garage door to get inside and paused. Seeing my father’s cherry red convertible in the garage made me groan. What the fuck now? Why the hell was he home? What the fuck did he want to shove up my ass this time?
I braced myself for whatever I was walking into as I approached the side garage door.
“About damn time you showed up.”
His voice hit my ears as I walked through the door. I stood in the sprawling kitchen, seeing him and Cecilia sitting at the table. There was food out. A plate set for me. Their plates were clear of any food they might have been eating and everything had grown cold. I snickered as I closed the door behind me. I shrugged as I slid my bike keys into my pocket.
Then I licked my lips. “Didn’t know family dinners were our thing.”
Dad narrowed his eyes. “Where have you been?”
“Marina’s. Hanging out with Roy.”
“Why the fuck did I get a call from the school saying you’d been in a fight this morning?”
You’re dead, Mrs. Abernathy.
I shook my head. “It was nothing. Some pathetic boy came at me and I defended myself.”
Dad stood up. “Not what I heard.”
“Well, I don’t care what you heard. That’s not what happened. He crossed a line, so I defended myself.”
“Does that crossed line happen to be something he did to that bike of yours? Because I’ve got every intention of taking that away from you right now.”
“You aren’t taking that from me again.”
Dad charged from around the kitchen table and I puffed out my chest. Cecilia stood up, hollering for him to stop as he barreled directly into me. I winced as the pain in my neck grew. He shoved me against the wall, then pinned me with his hands wrapped up in my shirt. Apparently, all he heard was I’d been in a fight. He didn’t give a shit about the injuries I’d suffered during the event.
Typical, for my father.
Cecilia slammed her hand on the table. “You know that nurse said he’s only a few steps away from a concussion. Let him go.”
Dad growled. “You’re so full of shit. Thinking you can walk around here like you own the place. Don't forget who bought you that bike.”
I grinned. “You bought my first bike. I dipped into my trust fund with your permission to buy the second one.”
“And don’t you dare forget who can take that away from you.”
I snickered. “If you did, you’d be stuck with me. Which is something I know you don’t want.”
“Not when you’re a piece of trash.”
“Like father, like son.”
I gnashed my teeth at him before I saw his hand come into view. And before I could even blink, I felt his knuckles crack against my cheekbone. My neck felt as if it were on fire, and I stumbled on my feet. I felt my father grip my shirt again and bring me back into the wall, only to come down against my face again.
He hit me three solid times before Cecilia’s shrieks caused him to pause.
“Howard! Stop it! You’re going to put him in the hospital!”
I felt my father release my shirt and I slipped back down to my feet. But my father spun around and I heard him yelling at her. I knew he was probably spitting on her. I watched him stick his finger in her face, but she stood her ground, her small frame enveloped in the most expensive of fabrics. The two of them yelled back and forth at one another, but I had no idea what they were saying. I didn’t care, either. All I knew was I had to get out.
I had to get away from this place.
I reached for the garage door and ripped it open. I stumbled out, my vision slowly coming into focus. I saw the garage door closing and I made a break for it. I heard my father screaming my name as I ducked underneath the moving metal door. I dug my keys out and slung my leg over my bike. My father’s voice approached me from behind as I quickly struck up my engine.
“Get back here, you son of a bitch. That bike is mine!”
And just as I felt his hands on the back of my leather jacket, I tore off.
Cecilia’s cries faded into the background. My father’s cursing fell away from my ears. The engine of my bike roared underneath me, vibrating as it carried me away from that fucking hellhole. The wind rushed through my hair. I sped out of the neighborhood, making my way for the high school. I didn’t know where the fuck I was going, but I sure as hell wasn’t going home.
Ever, if I could swing it.
I hope you rot in hell, Dad.
I drove around town, feeling my wallet burning a hole against my ass cheek. I stopped off at a diner, where my stomach started growling at the smells of food. I walked inside and slid my helmet off, watching as people gave me strange looks. I made my way for the bathroom and scoffed when I saw myself, finally realizing why people kept giving me awkward glances.
One of my father’s sla
ps had actually bruised my face.
“Just great.”
I sighed as I splashed some water on it. I ran some through my hair, watching as it glistened. The bruise was faint. But with the pale skin I’d inherited from the fucker himself, it was easy to see. I licked my lips and dried off my hands, then ran the paper towel over my face. I winced at the pain. My neck felt stiff. My cheeks were on fire. My ears were ringing from how loud my father had been yelling at me.
Then my stomach kicked in again.
“I need some food.”
I tossed the paper towel away and slammed out of the bathroom. I took a seat in a corner booth, where the biggest waiter in the diner came up to me. I peeked over at the girls, watching as they cowered away. Fucking figured. I’d gone from the man every woman wanted to flock around, to the man people feared. And all because of some fucking bruise that wasn’t even my damn fault.
Note to self, girlfriends and bruises from my father ruin my mojo.
The waiter sighed. “Can I get you anything?”
I leaned back. “Got anything on special?”
“Ten percent off our chicken and waffles.”
I wrinkled my nose. “Odd combination.”
“Drench it all in syrup and it’s fantastic.”
I sighed. “Sure. That’s fine, then. An order of that, a slice of German chocolate cake, and coffee.”
“Cream and sugar?”
“Yep.”
He paused. “It might not be my place, but you need to talk to someone?”
I snickered. “Nah, I’m good.”
“You sure? That’s a pretty decent shiner.”
“It only looks bad because I’m pale as fuck in the middle of California.”
And even though the two of us shared a small moment of laughter, I still saw the nervousness in his eyes.
“That’s all. Thanks,” I said.
He left to place my order while everyone continued to stare at me. The freak in the leather jacket with the blackened cheek.