by Hart, Rebel
13
Raelynn
I stared off into the darkness as I sat on the park bench. A ratty park, on the outskirts of the suburb where our small little area was stashed. The metal monkey bars were rusted through. Half of the swings were broken. The plastic of the slides had been cracked for years. Even the sandbox had been infested with bugs and fleas and all sorts of things, driving the families around here to abandon it. But I found solace in this place. In the crispy grass that had been fried by the sun. In the dead trees that surrounded this little patch of land. I sipped my green tea, reveling in its taste. Just another thing that separated me from the coffee-guzzling masses of those that surrounded me.
I sighed as I dwelled in my moment of turmoil.
I’d never been good at brushing things off. I had to pick through it. Tear it apart before piecing it back together. If I didn’t, I’d be stuck in a never-ending cycle of untapped emotion and swirling memories. I had to delve deep into it so I understood how to talk about it intelligently. Or, at the very least, build a fucking bridge and get over it.
I needed to pick through the chaos of my home. The insanity of my mother. The decrepit state of her good-for-nothing boyfriend. I closed my eyes, listening as her shrieks filled my mind. Sipping on my tea as the sound of D.J.’s hand cracking against her jaw made me wince. Grimace.
Wish I was anywhere other than here.
“Deep breaths,” I whispered to myself.
I continued sipping my tea until there was nothing left. I felt my mind slowing down. And, for once, I relaxed. A cool summer breeze kicked up, pulling the last of my hair out of its ponytail. I reached for the band before it fell to the ground. I ran my fingers through my hair, trying to work out the knots. I smoothed it over my shoulders, fluffing it in the wind. My dress kicked up around my shins, cooling off my thighs as I sat on the wooden park bench that still held the heat of the day within its bones.
Then I heard it.
The rumble of a motorcycle.
I can’t be that unlucky. Please tell me I’m not that unlucky.
I sighed as I opened my eyes and set my empty tea container on the ground. I drew in a deep breath, listening as the bike crept closer, rumbling up the road behind me and finally turning off.
And moments later, I found myself staring at Clint Clarke’s torso.
I sighed. “What do you want?”
“Is anyone sitting here?”
I snickered. “Nope. And neither are you.”
I glared up at him, but all I saw was that snarky little grin of his. That stupid smirk I wanted to slap right off his fucking face. Only it didn’t reach his eyes like it normally did in school. There was a sadness to his features that I knew all too well. I watched him carefully as he moved off to the side. Despite what I’d told him, he sat down beside me, hissing as the heat of the bench came into contact with his ass. I stared at him, watching as his eyes connected with something off in the distance. And as his guard came down, so did his grin.
It sank into a frown that had become the physical mantra of my life. A frown that constantly looked back at me in the mirror every morning.
Clint cleared his throat. “Sorry I kicked your friend’s ass.”
I shook my head. “He got in a few punches, too.”
“Doesn’t mean he didn’t get his ass beat.”
“And you deserved every punch he landed.”
He shrugged. “Maybe so.”
“Really? You’re trying to be the good guy now?”
“I’ll never be the good guy. Not my thing.”
I turned my eyes out toward the playground. “Why are you such a dick all the time? Isn’t it enough that we can’t stand you?”
I saw Clint turn his head as he stared at me. And even though I felt him burning a hole in the side of my face, I refused to look over at him. I refused to give him the satisfaction of gazing into my eyes. He stared at me for a long time, and I wondered what he was thinking. I found myself wanting to have a peek inside his mind, just to know why the hell he was staring for so long.
Then his voice filled the space around us.
“I don’t know. I guess ‘cause it’s easy. And it’s something I’m actually good at.”
I rolled my eyes. “The pity card won’t get you far with me.”
“Not looking for any.”
“Good.”
He shrugged. “It’s true. I’m good at making people hate me. I’m good at being a dick. That’s what I do.”
I arched an eyebrow. “Wow. Deep motivations, bro.”
“Hey, you’re the one that asked a dumb question.”
“Just didn’t expect the answer to be dumber.”
“Why do you always do that?”
I snickered. “Do what?”
“Fire back with such animosity?”
I whipped my eyes over to him. “You’re asking me—the boy who’s bullied me on and off for years—why I address you with a burning hatred? Are you fucking kidding me right now?”
He shrugged. “Maybe if you were nicer, like your friend Allison, people wouldn't be so standoffish to you.”
“Is that before or after you made overt sexual jokes about her to Michael?”
“I mean, at least they weren’t directed at her.”
“Oh. Yeah. Right. Because that makes it all better.”
I scoffed and shook my head. I leaned back against the park bench, wishing and praying and hoping he’d go away. I just wanted some peace. Some quiet. Some fucking clarity. I didn’t want to deal with his bullshit.
I didn’t want to deal with Clint.
“So what are you doing out on a night like this?”
I closed my eyes. “You aren’t going to leave me alone, are you?”
He scoffed. “I mean, I figured you’d be with goody two shoes Allison or some shit like that.”
“I was, until our plans got canceled.”
“Ah, she busy kissing Michael’s booboos?”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek. “If you don't leave, I’m leaving.”
“Have a safe trip home.”
I crossed my arms over my chest, irate at his ability to completely spoil whatever moment of happiness I found for myself. But I wasn’t leaving. I had been here first, and he was the one that wasn’t wanted in this scenario. If he wanted to be rid of me, then he could leave the same way he came. And if he didn’t want to leave, then I’d annoy the hell out of him until he did.
Clint chuckled. “Stubborn, I see.”
I shrugged. “You’re the one making this more difficult than it needs to be.”
“Not really. You don’t want to be around me, then leave.”
“I’m not the one who obliterated the moment with my presence in the first place.”
“Big word for a small girl.”
“Well, if you paid attention in English class at all, you might have a few to throw around yourself.”
“Kind of a non-sequitur, if you think about it.”
I furrowed my brow. “What?”
“A non-sequitur. A phrase that doesn’t—”
I held up my hand. “I know what a non-sequitur is, you dick. I’m just not sure how—”
I looked over at him and found him smiling at me. And not the kind of smile I was used to seeing on his face. It wasn’t malicious. It didn’t shiver me to my core. It was… just a smile. A genuine, eye-reaching, illuminating smile. I’d never seen Clint smile like that before. Hell, I’d never seen him smile at all. But something like this?
It made him look almost boyish.
“Shocked I know the term? Or shocked that I used it correctly?”
I drew in a sharp breath. “What I said was only partially—I mean, if you twist it—I—you know what that word means?”
He chuckled. “English is my strong suit. That’s why I don’t pay attention in class.”
“Didn’t you almost fail, though?”
He shrugged. “C-minus. Not bad for never turning in homework.”
“
That means you would’ve had to ace all your tests, though. Read the material?”
“What? You think I can’t read?”
“Not that you can’t. Just that you don’t.”
He grinned. “Maybe I have a few tricks up my sleeve every now and again.”
I quickly turned away from him and tightened my arms across my chest. I wasn’t going to let him disarm me. I wasn’t going to let him in. I wasn’t going to let him closer, or talk to him about anything, or even tell him why the hell I was out here. I wasn’t going to indulge my personal life with the school bully. No matter how he tried to woo me into it.
But, I had to admit, he’d officially shocked me.
He snickered. “Still not gonna talk?”
I shook my head. “Nope.”
“Even though you now know I’m not just a bully?”
“No one is ever ‘just’ anything. Being a bully is your dominating trait. So it is what it is.”
“But, if it wasn’t, you’d talk to me. Wouldn't you?”
“Doesn’t matter now, does it?”
He chuckled. “Answering a question with a question is never a good thing, Cleaver.”
And even though I tried keeping my guard up, I felt it slowly slipping down with him.
Something I didn’t even think to be possible.
14
Clinton
I mean, I got it. I understood why Rae didn’t want to talk with me. I just found it crazy that we both ended up here at the same time. I mean, fuck. She was sitting on my bench! A bench I’d practically claimed back in eighth grade. I came to this damn park whenever I needed to clear my head. Whenever I needed to fuck some shit up without getting into trouble with the town of Riverbend. Most of the cracks in these slides were from me. The broken, rusted-through metal monkey bars had been broken through in the first place because of me terrorizing this damn place. I mean, parents and families alike had abandoned it years and years ago. The second the sandbox became infested and sent kids to the hospital, they shunned this place. Making it the perfect park for angsty teenagers and homeless people alike to find whatever fucking piece of solace they could in this decrepit park. And with Rae sitting on my damn bench?
I didn’t believe in coincidences that much.
Especially since you can’t stop thinking about the girl, asshole.
I licked my lips. “I come here sometimes, too.”
I heard Rae snicker to herself, but she didn’t say anything.
“It’s true. I’ve come here regularly ever since eighth grade. I sit on this exact bench, right where you’re sitting, and I stare between those two dying trees.”
I pointed off into the distance as she drew in a deep breath.
“It’s not going to work. I know you’re making this shit up.”
I shrugged. “Think what you want, but it’s true. I come here at night, sit where you are so I can look between those trees, and I get the perfect view of the north star.”
I looked over at her, watching as her eyes lifted. I saw her gazing through the trees before they widened a bit. She looked over at me, shock pouring over her features. Then she went back to staring at the ground. She scooted over a bit, closer to the edge of the bench. Away from me, like I was the plague. Like I was some sort of virus. Like I was a piece of trash she wanted nothing to do with.
And I don’t know what the fuck spurred my mouth to start running. But once it started, I couldn't stop it.
“I came here the first time my father ever hit me. I had a teacher threatening to hold me back in eighth grade because I never turned in my homework, of all things. And the fight that ensued with my father was rough. It was the first time I’d ever yelled at him. The first time I’d ever stood up to him. And when he saw I wasn’t backing down, he hit me. He hit me so hard it threw me clean across the damn room. I ran out of the house, got on my pedal bike, and didn’t stop until I collapsed with exhaustion in this park. Slept on this bench until morning, before Roy’s parents found me laying out on this thing.”
I felt Rae’s eyes slowly panning over to me as I sighed heavily.
“At school, it’s easy to forget about all that shit. It’s easy to forget about home. About my mother. About my father and how aggressive he is. I get to be a different version of me there. A stronger version of me.”
Rae scoffed. “You think you’re stronger because people are afraid of you?”
I shrugged. “I guess.”
She paused. “You know, that’s actually pretty typical. Guys like you don’t have power at home, so you take it out on others in a place where you feel powerful.”
“I take it you have a point here?”
“I do. It means your sob story isn’t so special. Or sob-worthy.”
The laughter that bubbled up my throat spewed out of my mouth before I could catch it. I tucked my arms over my chest, letting my head fall back. My eyes closed as laughter took over me. My shoulders shook and my stomach jumped, and for the first time in a long time I felt free of the chains of my home. Without having to be at school.
Which was a miracle in and of itself.
“What's wrong with you, Clint?”
I sighed, trying to rein in my laughter. “Oh, ho ho. Holy fuck. So much, Rae. So much is wrong with me. But let’s be real for a second. You're just as screwed up as I am, at the end of the day.”
She didn’t answer, and that caused me to look over at her. I saw her curl even more into herself, and something inside me wanted to reach out to her. Physically. I forced it back, though. I tucked my arms tighter underneath my arm pits, trying my best to make her feel comfortable.
Because I wanted her to be comfortable around me, for some reason.
I sighed. “Look, I get it. You don’t have a good home life. You look at all those big houses we have and the fancy clothes Michael and Allison wear, and you think it’s a better life. But it isn’t. We all have our issues. My dad slaps me around more than I care to admit. I’m sure your mom has some equally fucked-up shit she does to you.”
Rae spat. “Which is none of your business.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But it does you no good not to talk about it.”
“Oh, like you talk about it with everyone?”
“I just did, didn’t I?”
And then, as if the heavens decided to actually play in my favor, Rae sighed.
“Mom’s got this boyfriend. D.J. And he’s such a shitbag of a guy, you know? I mean, I know it broke my mother down when my dad left. I was only three, so I don’t remember shit about him or anything. But, she just filtered through so many stupid men before landing on, what? D.J.? Some dude that pays some of her bills sometimes and slaps her around a bit? Fucking hell, I can’t stand it when they start arguing. One minute, he’s bringing over Italian dinner for a nice meal, bringing her flowers. Bringing me gifts. And the next minute? Mom’s got a black eye and she’s out drinking at bars all weekend before dragging nameless men home to try and make herself feel less alone. I don’t get it. Why can’t she just… survive without them? Why can’t she just put in the effort to thrive? Why does some guy have to be the miraculous answer to all her problems? It’s exhausting after a while. Trying to keep up and deal with it all in the background.” Then, after a pause, “But not as exhausting as being around you. You really do me in. I’d take D.J. over you any day.”
I chuckled and shook my head. Ever the strong one. Trying to keep up that icy demeanor when all she wanted to do was drop her guard. Nevertheless, the need to reach out and hug her was so great I felt myself shaking. I wanted to punch whoever this D.J. guy was until his eyes fucking bulged. How dare he treat a woman like that? How dare he think he could put his hands on a woman and get away with it? I watched Rae’s cheeks blush deeply. Even in the darkness, I saw her skin redden. And as she flickered her eyes toward mine, she scoffed.
“What?” I asked.
She shook her head. “I can’t believe I just told you all that.”
“Why?”
<
br /> “You mean, other than the fact that you’re the biggest asshole at our school?”
I sighed. “Don’t be like that, Rae.”
“Be like what?”
“So moody.”
She leered. “I’m not moody.”
“So that bubbling rage in your eye is a reaction to something else? Maybe the pollen? Possibly the fleas infesting the sandbox over there? Did you get bit by a raccoon? I hear the Riverbend raccoons have rabies.”
She scoffed and shook her head. But soon, that scoff turned to a giggle. Which morphed into laughter that tilted her head off to the side. The beautiful sound wrapped around us, and I couldn't help but smile. Her arms fell away from her chest and she placed her face in her hands, shaking her head as more laughter fell from her lips.
“What is even happening, Clint?”
I smiled. “You’re growing weak for me. Just like all girls do.”
Her laughter paused. “Don’t do that.”
“Do what?”
“If I'm not going to be moody, then you’re not going to be a pompous windbag manwhore.”
My eyebrows rose. “How long have you had that one tucked away?”
“Not as long as you’d think. I’m quick-witted in some moments.”
“I see that.”
She looked over at me and her eyes fell to my lips. My smile made her smile, and for the first time I saw her eyes ignite. With the moon above reflecting in her amber pools, it reminded me of the strength of a tree. The rungs of a redwood covered in sappy bark, cloaked in the effervescent darkness California had to offer. I found myself swimming in them. Falling into them and never wanting to return.
The writer in me wanted to pen a poem devoted to the swirling rungs of her brown eyes.
Rae cleared her throat. “What are you looking at?”
I cocked my head. “You.”
“What about me?”
“I like this side of you.”
She blushed. “Oh, come on. Cut the shit and get to the punch line.”
“What punch line?”
“Whatever it is that made you come over and sit down on this bench.”
“Is it really so hard to imagine that you’re the reason I felt compelled to sit down?”