by Hazel Kelly
“That’s not fair.”
“I know it’s not fair. I employed Bill Hudson for two years, and I know better than anybody how unfair it is.”
“But Luke isn’t his dad.”
“Maybe not,” he said. “But nothing good can come from you associating with a family like that.”
“I’ve known him for years. I’m not going to stop being his friend because you don’t like his dad. That’s ridiculous.”
“What’s ridiculous is the fact that you’re giving me backtalk right now when I’ve never done anything other than protect and support you.”
“But I’m an adult now! You have to let me learn to protect myself.”
“I don’t think this one request is asking too much when I’m bankrolling your entire soul-searching, degree-earning operation.”
“I’m not going to stop spending time with him.”
“Trust me,” he said. “It’s only a matter of time before that kid explodes after what he’s put up with, and I don’t want you anywhere near him when that happens.”
“He’s not going to explode. And I’m not going to avoid him when we have friends in common and—”
“You are,” he said. “Or you’ll find out exactly how serious I am about this.”
“What are you going to do? Cut me off? Make me transfer schools?”
“I haven’t thought that far ahead, honey, because I expect you to respect my very modest wishes.”
“I won’t do it,” I said. “You’re wrong about him.”
“This isn’t about him,” he said. “It’s about you and what’s best for you.”
“Is that all?” I asked, knowing better than to hang up on my father.
“That’s all,” he said. “Thank you for your understanding.”
“I never said I understood!”
But he’d already hung up.
And by that point, I wasn’t sure where my nausea was coming from.
T H I R T Y
- Luke -
I was pulling my smelly gear out of my bag when my phone fell on the floor. It was only then that I saw I had a dozen missed calls, all of which were from home.
I hit the voicemail button, and Patrick’s familiar sniffling filled my ear right before the phone started to ring in my hand. “Patrick,” I said as soon as I accepted the incoming call. “I’m sorry I missed you, buddy. I was at practice. What’s up?”
His breathing was shallow and stuttered like he’d been crying.
“It’s Mom,” he said. “Dad hurt her again.”
The inside of my nose burned as my eyes started to water. “Where is he?”
“He left,” he said. “In the car.”
I clenched my jaw as blind rage filled my body. “Are you okay?” I asked, trying not to let him hear my voice shake.
“Yeah, but Mom fell and cut her face when Dad was yelling at her. At least that’s what she told me.”
I squeezed the bridge of my nose.
“There was blood everywhere, Luke. I didn’t know what to do.”
“Did you call the police?”
“No,” he said. “I was afraid. I went next door and got Mrs. Walker.”
“Jesus, Patrick. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay now.”
I perched on the edge of my futon. “I’m sorry I didn’t answer the phone before.”
“It’s okay,” he said. “I handled it.”
“Yes you did. I’m very proud of you.”
“I’m proud of you, too,” he said. “Mom showed me that you were in the paper.”
My eyes started to water. “Thanks, big guy.”
“I’m still your number one fan. Don’t forget.”
I pressed my hand over my mouth. “I won’t.”
“Bros before hos,” he said.
“Don’t say hos. That’s not a nice word.”
“It’s just an expression.”
“I know.” I took a deep breath. “Did Dad say if he was coming back?”
“No,” he said. “But Mrs. Walker invited us to stay at her house tonight.”
“And?”
“Mom just made a bunch of excuses,” he said. “Even though Mrs. Walker knows what really happened.”
I hung my head and squeezed the back of my neck with my free hand.
“Do you think I should call the cops and tell them Dad is drinking and driving?”
My mind raced with similar ideas.
“It worked last week, but he was meaner than ever when he came home.”
“Last week?”
“I’m afraid for Mom,” he said. “I don’t know how to help her.”
“Can you convince her to stay at the Walkers’ tonight?”
“I can try.”
I sat up straight in an attempt to lessen the burning in my chest. “Do you promise Dad didn’t touch a hair on your head?”
Silence.
“Patrick.”
“I promise,” he said. “Sorry. I was nodding.”
“I’m going fix this. Okay, buddy?”
“I know you’re busy with college. I really wouldn’t bother you if I didn’t need help but—”
“You can call me any time,” I said. “You got that?”
“Uh-huh.”
“Can you be strong for Mom until I figure something out?”
“Yes.”
He said it with so much conviction a tear rolled down my face. “Okay, good,” I said, wiping it away. “If Dad comes back tonight, call 911.”
“When?”
“If he even comes back at all,” I said. “As soon as you hear him pull in the driveway. Do you understand?”
“I understand.”
“It’s better to be safe than sorry, and he’s never calmer if he comes back. You know that.”
“I do.”
“How’s school?” I asked, trying to hide the fact that I felt more hollow than hopeful.
“Okay,” he said. “I made the basketball team.”
“What?”
“It’s only a sideline coaching job, but I get off school for away games, and my free throws are coming along.”
I smiled. “That’s great to hear. I can’t wait to see you in action.”
“When?”
“Soon,” I said. “I’m going to come see you soon.”
“And Mom. I think she’d really like to see you.”
“Patrick?” my mom said in the background. “Who are you on the phone with?”
“Luke,” he said.
“Can I talk to him for a second?” she asked.
“Bye bro,” he said. “See you soon.”
“Bye.”
“Luke?”
“Hi Mom.”
“Go get ready for bed, honey,” she said to Patrick. “I’ll come tuck you in shortly.”
I tried to lean back, but I was too worked up and bounced forward again.
“I hope he wasn’t bothering you,” she whispered. “I know you’ve got enough on your plate without—”
“You have to leave him, Mom. You have to pack your things and leave tonight.”
“It was only a little fight,” she said. “I’m sure Patrick made it sound worse than it was.”
“He’s scared, Mom. I’m scared. You have to get out of there.”
“This isn’t your problem, Luke. You need to focus on what you’re doing out th—”
“How am I supposed to focus when I know Dad’s getting drunk and beating you up in front of my little brother?!”
“Patrick’s fine,” she said.
“And you?”
“I can handle myself.”
“Please, Mom. I can’t fight this battle for you. I need you to be strong for a little longer until I can get you guys out of there.”
“I am being strong.”
“I need you to be strong by leaving.” I said. “Not by taking it. Can’t you see that?”
“Where would I go, honey? Your little brother’s in school. Our lives are here. My job.”
“Stay with the Walkers,” I pleaded. “Patrick told me they offered.”
“I’m not going to impose on the neighbors,” she said. “They’re enjoying their retirement, and I have a family to hold together.”
“You can’t hold it together as fast as he can rip it apart, Mom. Please, do something. At least call the cops when he gets that drunk before he hurts you.”
“I’d rather he hurt me than somebody else,” she said. “I can take it.”
“Well I can’t, and neither can Patrick.”
“I’m doing my best, Luke. And feeling judged by you isn’t helping.”
“I’m not judging you, Mom, I’m—”
“I saw the article about you in the Campus Chronicle.”
How could she possibly think this was a good time to mention that?!
“We’re all really proud of you,” she said. “Especially Patrick.”
“And Dad?”
“Your father is a little depressed lately,” she said. “He hasn’t been able to find work in a while and—”
“That’s because he’s a drunk. And why you think it’s okay to work eleven hours a day and let him drink your paycheck is beyond me, but something has got to change or you won’t be able to look after anyone anymore.”
“Don’t you worry about my paychecks. Everything is under control. Your dad is in some trouble, but he’ll get through it.”
I hung my head. This wasn’t a phase. Surely she knew that? “You deserve better,” I said. “And even if you can’t see that, you must see that Patrick does.”
“He’s fine,” she said. “Look after yourself, and good luck on game day. We’re all rooting for Peyton to break an ankle.”
“Please don’t do that. That’s not how I want to get my lucky break.”
“I’m going to put your brother to bed. Nice talking to you, honey. Study hard.”
I hung up and paced the floor, my dad’s angry face flashing through my mind. The fear in Patrick’s voice rattling through my head. The bullshit coming out of my mom’s mouth. It was all too much, too infuriating, too fucked up.
And as I punched a hole in the wall, I was both relieved and disappointed that it didn’t make me feel better.
T H I R T Y O N E
- Rosie -
Four days.
I hadn’t heard from him in four days.
Yes, I knew the first home game was only days away and that he was probably feeling the pressure, but four days?! He hadn’t even texted me.
Who does that? I mean, were the wildflowers a ruse? Because to me, that was the kind of gesture I’d expect from the kind of guy that would call. “Epic for me, too.” Isn’t that what he’d said?
What the hell happened since he kissed me goodnight?
The more I thought about it, the more worried I became. But no matter what I told myself, it seemed like there were only two real possibilities.
Possibility one: my dad had threatened him. It seemed unlikely, but stranger things had happened, and my dad had gone behind my back before. It was usually in nice ways, though. Like putting in a good word with a potential employer or arranging some happy surprise.
However, I knew from my mom’s white wine rants that his ego occasionally got the better of him. Still, I had no intention of honoring his bullshit request to stay away from Luke, so it pained me to question whether Luke could be persuaded to ditch me.
Not that I thought my dad would pay him off or anything. Surely that only occurred to me because I read too many books…
And then there was possibility number two, which I actually found even more horrific, and that was the prospect that I’d been relegated to notch status. Luke got what he wanted from me, and having satisfied his curiosity, he did what I would’ve expected any other football player to do.
He decided he didn’t need to show me any fucking respect as a person.
After all, why should he? If I was the kind of girl that would go skinny dipping and then have unprotected sex in the mud, how could I possibly expect him to keep treating me well?
In which case, this was all my fault. I had deliberately ignored every warning sign, thrown caution to the wind, and gotten exactly what I deserved: a big fat slice of humble pie.
Fortunately, I was as pissed as I was hurt, so I decided to capitalize on my charged emotions and go give him a piece of my mind before my sadness overwhelmed me. Because despite how embarrassed I was to have been so foolish, he needed to know that it was not okay to treat people like they were disposable.
I banged my fist on his door and pushed my glasses up my nose, the back of my neck steaming as I rocked from one foot to the other.
“Rosie.” Luke was in sweatpants and a wife-beater, which hugged his individual stomach muscles as if it were wet.
“Why haven’t you called me?” I asked, my voice quaking in a way that was not part of the plan.
He ran a hand over his head and stepped back. “Come in.”
I looked around for his roommate, but both his bedroom door and the one to the bathroom were open with the lights off. “First of all, don’t even try to put this on me for being crazy,” I said. “I’m not one of those girls who needs to be checked on every twenty minutes.”
He stepped up to me and I moved back.
“But I thought you’d at least call. I thought after the flowers and the…” I crossed my arms. “I had to take the fucking morning-after pill and everything.”
The color drained from his face.
“And you haven’t even called?! Do you have any idea how shitty I feel? How stupid?”
“I’m sorry. I should’ve called.”
“Don’t say it like that,” I said, hugging myself tight. “I didn’t come here to make you feel guilty. I know better than that. I just thought. I just—I thought you had more respect for me than that.”
“I do,” he said. “I’ve just been…distracted.”
I craned my neck forward.
“And not very good company.”
I shifted my weight.
“Can we talk in my room?” he asked. “It smells like Anders in here.”
I groaned and marched into his room. It was only when he came in and closed the door that I noticed the hole in the wall.
“What happened?” I asked, pointing at it.
“I fucking lost my security deposit is what happened.”
I swallowed and tried to push my dad’s warnings from my mind. “Did you do that?” I asked. “With your fist?”
“I don’t really want to talk about it.”
“Well, we can talk about whatever you want,” I said, dropping my arms. “But you can’t not call. Not after that. Not after…”
“Are you going to sit down?”
I shook my head.
He slumped in his desk chair. “Look, I should’ve called. I’m sorry.”
“I’m not the girl you sleep with and then don’t call. You know I’m not. You could’ve done that with anyone else at that party. If that’s what you wanted—what you want—you should’ve left me alone. I deserve better.”
“Goddammit, Rosie. I know that, okay? It’s not fucking about you.”
My face fell.
“Everything is not about you,” he said, leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees. “This-this isn’t about you.”
I felt as if he’d dumped a bucket of cold water over my head.
“I didn’t call because I’m trying to deal with some shit,” he said. “Some real shit that’s got nothing to do with you.”
I blinked at him, startled by the unfamiliar frustration in his voice.
“Of course I wanted to call,” he said, talking with his hands. “My feelings for you haven’t changed. I just don’t want to drag you into this shit, and between this drama and football and you, I just…I want to keep you separate. You’re the good thing I want to get back to. I just need a few days to figure some things out.”
“What shit?”
“Please
, Rosie. I need to be strong right now, and I can’t be strong with you looking at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like you hate me and want to hold me at the same time.”
“I don’t hate you,” I said.
He sighed and lifted his eyes to meet mine.
“But I do want to hold you,” I said. “Just not in vain.”
He sat up and leaned back.
“So you have to tell me what’s going on,” I said. Because I’m a self-obsessed only child who thinks everything is about me until proven otherwise. “Please.” I crossed the room and sat down on the edge of the futon. “Talk to me, Luke.”
He looked hard at me, his face twisted in so much anguish I almost didn’t recognize him.
I reached forward and put a hand on his knee. “I don’t want to be separate.”
T H I R T Y T W O
- Luke -
Just her hand on my knee made me feel better.
I thought I could keep her at arm’s length—protect her from who I really was—but the truth was this bullshit at home probably defined me more than anything. More than football. More than my scholarship. More than my feelings for her.
This bullshit was in my blood.
“Whatever it is,” she said. “We can deal with it.”
I clenched my jaw.
“Unless it’s you wanting me to fuck off forever, in which case I’ll be leaving now, but—”
“No.” I put my hand over hers. “It’s not that.”
She exhaled, and her shoulders dropped several inches. “Good. Because I really like you, and I thought Saturday was just the beginning of…whatever this is.”
“I like you, too,” I said. “But my life is…more complicated than I’ve let on.”
“I know.”
I furrowed my brow. “You know what?”
“Nothing.” She pulled her hand back. “I just mean that after everything you just said, there’s obviously something you need to get off your chest.”
“Unfortunately, getting it off my chest isn’t going to do much good.”
“It’s a start.”
I sighed. I really didn’t want to tell her any of it. The truth was dark and heavy, and I didn’t want to weigh her down when she was the lightest, brightest thing in my whole life. I’d rather discuss her secrets and dreams and aspirations and keep this shit I never asked for buried deep inside me where it couldn’t poison any more than it already had.