Filthy Pride: Dark Bully Romance

by Savannah Rose

  “She’s not getting better because she stopped taking her pills,” I continued. “She actually wanted to stay in that wheelchair!”

  “Okay,” my mother said softly.

  “Okay? Mom, this is serious!”

  She scooted over and patted the mattress beside her.

  “Eva already talked to me about all that.” I felt like someone had kicked the floor from beneath my feet. “She admitted that she wasn’t diligent about taking her meds. She skipped a few doses here and there. She was just tired of living on fists full of pills. You can understand that, can’t you?”

  “It wasn’t just once or twice, mom. She skipped days or maybe weeks of pills,” I said, getting increasingly upset over her cavalier attitude.

  “Listen, that’s all in the past, Adam. She is taking them now and she is improving. I can’t punish her for having a hard time after a traumatic experience.”

  I growled and stood up, my fists at my sides. My head was spinning. Eva was spinning…out of control. The jealousy, the lying, the conniving. My world felt like it was being flipped even more upside down.

  “She wasn’t having a hard time coping, mom. She did it on purpose. She needs help, not more excuses. She damn near crippled herself for life!”

  “And she realized what she was doing to herself and is in a healthier place now. And for the record, young man, I’m still your mother. You can’t talk to me like that!”

  I shook my head, blown away by what I was hearing. Yes, mom was saying everything that I’d said to myself a thousand times. She was making excuses for her instead of confronting the problem. I understood why Eva was so cocky. She’d outmaneuvered me, confessing to her crime and allowing the spin machine to do all of the work for her.

  Nobody wanted to believe that she was having a mental health crisis, not even me. If I hadn’t seen the pills myself, if I hadn’t witnessed her unraveling, if I hadn’t seen the mask slip, I would never have believed it either.

  “Mom, look at this,” I said and pulled out my phone to show her the picture of the pile of pills. Instead of looking, she pushed the screen away.

  “Come on, Adam.”

  “Mom! Please, just look. She didn’t just miss one or two here and there. She skipped whole weeks of meds,” I insisted. She closed her eyes and shook her head like a four-year-old child.

  “Adam, let it go. Even if she missed them, we can’t go back and change things now. She’s doing better now and that’s all that matters.”

  “She’s not doing better now. Maybe she’s taking her pills. But that doesn’t make her better, mom. She needs help or what do you think is going to happen the next time she faces even the smallest amount of difficulty?”

  I felt so small and desperate. Despite the fact that I towered over my mother, I felt like a helpless child right now. My sister was dying on the inside and it felt like I was the only one who could see it.

  “Come on, my little man,” my mother said softly, slipping a silly smile back onto her face. The only thing it served to do was anger and agitate me.

  The alcohol would make this whole conversation seem like a pleasant encounter by morning. There was a time when I was impressed by my mother’s ability to put a positive spin on life. I was less impressed now.

  “Mom!”

  “I know you’re worried about Eva, but she is going to be fine. She’s stronger than you think. She hit a little bit of a dark period, but she’s come out of it now and I think she’ll surprise us all with how well she’ll cooperate. Let’s not hold her past mistakes over her head, okay?”

  She gave me a big hug, wrapping her arms completely around my waist and squeezing tight. She was trying to be comforting, but the whole situation made my blood run cold. My sister needed help, and nobody was fucking listening to me. Nobody believed me. She had them all fooled.

  “Anyway, I have to get to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow, okay honey,” she said. I stood there, stunned as she sauntered down the hallway to her bedroom.

  Eva wasn’t who she seems to be. I got that now. And I could even understand how hard it was for others to see what I saw. But the fact that my own mother refused to even hear me out or look at my evidence was what hurt the most. If she wouldn’t listen to me or believe me, who would?

  Anna.

  That wasn’t a lie. Anna would believe me. But was there much point in bringing any of this to her? I’d made it that our relationship freefell from fairytale love into gut-wrenching hate. Made it that the middle ground we found was a friendship that didn’t feel like it was being had from one end of the ocean to the next.

  Still, my sister was spiraling. And Anna, distant as we might be from each other, always knew how to listen, always knew the right words to say. I needed to talk to someone. Because if I didn’t, I was pretty damn sure Eva’s secret and my inability to help her would eat me alive.

  I looked at my phone again. Friend. I guess I’d have to see if Anna’s friendship was as good as her love.

  Chapter 29

  the night of the accident

  It takes me a minute to locate Adam’s car. It’s in the distance, that much I can tell. All of the colors seem to be fading in and out in the moonlight and it feels like a task just to get to it. The ground feels like it is made of jelly and I wobble more than I want to. I must look like such a fool, but I have a plan and I’m not going to fail. Fuck Damon. Fuck Angelique. Fuck Anna. They’re all going to get what comes to them. I just have to get to that damn car before Anna finally catches up to me. I push harder, faster, but the more steps I take, the closer she seems to get. Adam’s car is out of the question if I want to see things through. But that’s not a problem, my car’s closer, right in front of me, in fact. It puts a dent in my plans, but it’ll have to do.

  I yank my key out of my pocket and hit the unlock button before jumping inside as quick as I can manage. Still palming the key, I give it enough time for Anna to pull the passenger side door open before I lock the car. She thinks she’s won. She thinks sitting beside me is some kind of victory. Poor, stupid, Anna.

  “If you’re going, we’re going together,” she says. I look at her face. She looks fuzzy and it’s hard for my eyes to focus. I’m obviously drunk. “I can drive,” she adds, except that’s not a part of the plan.

  Somehow, just hearing her offer makes me angry all over again. I know I’m drunk. Perhaps I’m suffering from alcohol poisoning. I don’t have enough experience to know the difference. But I know I don’t want Anna to drive me. I know I have a plan. I know alcohol might make it seem like a great plan. But I also know that I’m objective enough to know that whereas it might not be a great plan, it’s still a damn good one – given the limited amount of time I’ve had to think it through.

  I stick the key in the ignition and start the engine up. It roars to life without any hesitation.

  I buckle my seatbelt, throw the car into drive, and step on the accelerator. We pull out of the driveway with a sudden jump forward. Anna braces herself with her arms against the dashboard as the car swerves down the treelined road. I almost immediately regret my decision. Maybe this isn’t the best plan. Maybe I’m making stupid decisions, but I’m not going to back down now.

  “Eva, just pull over. You’ve had too much to drink. Eva please! I’ll take you home. I’ll take you wherever it is you want to go. Just pull over the car.”

  “Shut up,” I grumble, squinting to try and get my eyes to focus. The problem is that it isn’t just my eyes. My legs feel heavy and my fingertips tingle. I’m pretty sure I’m having some sort of an allergic reaction.

  “Eva, stop the car! Pull over!”

  The panic in her voice scares even me. I’m out of control and I can barely see. I’m about to comply when I feel all the care I’m supposed to have fly right out the window. I swerve and Anna screams. I like the sound of that. The sound of her terror. It’s much better than the sound of metal scraping against metal and then the distinct thumping that a car makes when it is rolling ov
er uneven terrain. I give the car another rev. There’s darkness looming ahead, and we aren’t on the road anymore. We’re heading downhill…and we’re heading downhill fast!

  Anna’s quiet now. Shocked into silence, I suppose. And maybe it’s that silence that drives panic in me. This really was a stupid plan. I try the brakes, but all that does is spin the car to the side as we skid through mud. The fall feels like it takes an eternity, though it probably lasts only a few seconds. I’m sure you can captured the whole thing on a single Instagram story. Still, it shakes me to my core.

  When we finally hit something, I am almost relieved. The impact puts an end to one nightmare, but the pain that rips through my body tells me I am still in a lot of trouble. At this moment I know I am broken in more ways than one. The thing I have always feared, being discovered, being imperfect and unlovable, it has all happened in one night.

  “Eva! Eva! Talk to me!”

  Anna’s panic is welcomed. I’m not alone. I nod my head slowly. I’ve survived, but I am far from okay.

  “Oh God, you’re bleeding!”

  Anna presses her hands to my forehead, making the pain in my head spike sharply. I cry out and try to move away from her touch, only to be rewarded with another spike of pain, this time in my back.

  “Just stay still, I need to… I need to get you from behind the wheel.”

  I force my eyes open and look around. Why is she okay? Why the hell is she okay?!

  We’re at the bottom of an embankment of some sort. The front of the car is crumpled up against an ancient looking tree. The lights from the road are so distant, I’m sure that we’ve dropped a hundred feet.

  Anna is in the back seat now, guiding me away from the wheel and taking my place.

  “Shit,” she says. “Fuck. Okay. Think Anna. Think.” She’s talking to herself, but somehow, I still feel like the crazy one. “Okay, Eva. I’m gonna leave you for a little,” she says and squeezes my hand gently, “but I’ll be right back. I promise.” She cringes like maybe she’s in pain too and I could be making this up, but there are tears in her eyes and a single line where one has trailed down her cheek. Good.

  “Anna,” I say and there is no questioning how terrified I sound. At least that bit isn’t an act. She squeezes my shoulder and then slides out of the car. I watch her in disbelief. She can still walk. I can barely feel my feet. How did she managed to avoid being horribly injured? The impact of the car was closer to her than me, and yet I am the one in excruciating pain. Then I remember the damned seat belt. She hadn’t worn hers. It was just me, and my constant need for perfection that had pinned me to the seat when it hit a tree. But shouldn’t that have thrown her out of the fucking car? None of it makes sense. Stupid, innocent, lucky Anna.

  Anna disappears into the darkness for what feels like an eternity. The lights from the street fade from view. The next thing I am aware of is Anna shaking me gently, rambling about the police being on their way.

  “No,” I shake my head, which only makes it pound harder.

  “No what?” She grabs my wrist and takes my pulse, biting her lip as she counts the beats. It’s a useless exercise. Even if my pulse was weak there would be nothing she could do about it now. She’s just keeping busy, trying to be in control of this disaster.

  “You’ll be fine, Eva. I promise.”

  I need her help, so insulting her is out of the question. This time, I level with her.

  “My reputation. If…Oh my God, Anna. If my parents find out I’ve been drinking…if the school finds out. My reputation…my chance to get into a good school,” I whisper, but don’t finish the statement. I lay there in a pool of my own blood, admitting to the woman I’ve always considered my closest competitor the ugliest truth about myself. I am a fraud. I am unlovable and I know it. I’m not perfect, I am a monster.

  “The cops will think I was driving and I just lost control. No one will care or even ask if you’ve been drinking because it won’t matter since you weren’t the one driving.” I give her a B for effort. Underage drinking is still a crime, after all.

  Instead of stirring anything, I nod. This time I close my eyes as a wave of nausea breaks against my body. I lurch, but there is nothing left in my system to vomit.

  The next time I open my eyes I am in the hospital. My whole body still hurts, but it hurts a whole lot less. Mom and dad are standing over me, and in the corner sits Adam, looking miserable. We never had the ability to read each other’s thoughts, but it doesn’t take a mind reader to see the guilt etched into his face. He’s blaming himself for this.

  “I just can’t believe that Anna would be so irresponsible,” mom says, clutching a damp towel that I assume she’s been using to wipe my face.

  “It’s okay, mom. I’m fine now,” I really don’t need her asking too many questions. Not until I’ve had a chance to organize my thoughts.

  “Oh, Eva! Oh, my baby!” Mom gushes for twenty minutes, calling every doctor she sees into the room to check on me. After being assured for the fiftieth time that I am not going to die, she finally relents.

  “I want you to take your time and get better, baby, but you need to talk to the police. They need some information from you to fill out the incident report. Can you remember anything about the accident or the party? Anything out of the ordinary?”

  I look up at her worried face and decide to grasp at my last chance to salvage whatever is left of my life.

  “I don’t remember much before the accident and I don’t know anything about what happened after I got in the car.”

  That is my story. And I am sticking to it.

  Chapter 30

  NOW

  As soon as I opened the front door my senses are assaulted by the smell of frying onions and blaring pop music. Mom had been feeling particularly domestic the last few days and had decided to cook a big dinner and invite Angelique, Mya and Taylor to help her prepare it. It was her way of getting Eva back in the mix and getting to know Angelique. Which was a bad idea, of course. Angelique was the last person in the world Eva wanted to ‘get to know’.

  Angelique said she would show up, yes. She was probably wondering what the hell was going on. I was wondering a lot of things too.

  Like what the hell Angelique and I were to each other. Why I was still acting like we were some kind of a couple.

  It was obvious to anybody who cared to notice that we were friendly, even close, but it was not the kind of relationship that two people in love should have. We held hands, we went out, we texted, but it was all artificial. Even when we kissed, it felt a lot like kissing a stranger no matter how many times we did it. And anything beyond kissing…forget about it. I told myself that Anna moved on, I should too. But even then, I couldn’t really invest myself in the moving on.

  I made my way down the hall to the kitchen where mom had Mya and Taylor chopping vegetables. The two girls were like bookends. Even though they didn’t look alike, they looked like two sides of the same coin, a matching set. They were pleasant enough, but I had never really liked either of them. However, after the accident they stuck by Eva and kept her in the loop with what was going on at school. I tried my best, but there were some things that a girl needed to talk to other girls about. Despite the fact that they were a little dense and shallow, they showed me their true colors. So, I was doing my best to see what it was that Eva saw in them.

  I was failing.

  “Where’s Eva?” I asked nobody in particular. Three sets of eyes looked up at me at the same time. I felt a little like the last bottle of water on the shelf during a hurricane.

  “I think she went to the bathroom,” mom said, taking the grocery bag I was carrying out of my hand.

  “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  “Sure there is! This isn’t the fifties,” said Mya.

  “Or Saudi Arabia,” Taylor snorted, and the two girls chuckled in that catty way you think only happens in teen movies until you meet girls like them. I was tempted to reply but I reminded myself tha
t these were the only friends Eva had left. If I ruined that by insulting her friends, she would only get worse.

  “Why don’t you go and change clothes, wash your hands, and come on back,” mom said, giving me a sympathetic look.

  “Sure thing.”

  I escaped the confines of the kitchen and made my way upstairs and into my room. I emptied my pockets and checked my phone out of habit when my eyes landed on a photo book from Japan on my shelf. It was a present from Anna - one of the many things that reminded me that she understood me. She got me.

  And there was my mind again, spiraling back into the world of Anna.

  As I stared at the photo book, my thoughts were interrupted by the sound of a hushed argument in the hallway. I leaned against my door and strained my ears to listen. I told myself I was not eavesdropping, just investigating. That eased some of the pressure from the bubble of guilt in my chest.

  “Just get it done,” said the first voice.

  “You can’t force people to like each other. You should know that by now.” The second voice was stronger, deeper. Angelique.

  “Well, you better figure something out. At this rate Anna is going to have both Damon and Adam wrapped around her little finger.”

  “Anna isn’t like that.” I was surprised to hear Eva attack Anna so viciously, but I was not shocked to hear Angelique defend her. One thing I had learned about her over the last few weeks was that she was fair and honest. She was rough around the edges, but she never set out to hurt anybody.

  “You don’t know anything about Anna. She’s a snake. She tried to kill me over test scores! Do you think she’s not willing to take your man?”

  “We broke up, remember. He’s not my man, and he can be with anybody he wants. This is your jealousy talking, Eva.”

  “Me? Jealous of a pill pushing whore like you?”