by S. J. Sylvis
He sat at the breakfast bar and placed his hands on the marble top. “I didn’t want to miss your birthday. It’s the big one. The big eighteen.” He grinned, ignoring my first comment. “I remember when I turned eighteen. I thought I was on top of the world. Finally an adult.” He glanced down and shook his head back and forth. Then, he brought his attention to me. “I was nothing like you at age eighteen. I was an immature kid who felt he was entitled to everything.”
I took a gulp of my coffee, ignoring the way it burnt my mouth and the desperate attempt of my father trying to have a conversation with me.
“Your mother never wanted to spoil you and Ollie. She wanted to make sure you two weren’t entitled to everything. Materialistic. I’ve probably failed a little at that in the last few years, but you really don’t ask for much.” A smile reached his eyes. “You’re everything your mother would have wanted you to be. You’re mature beyond your years. You've been that way since the moment your mom passed.”
I clanked my teeth together hard. This was not on my list of things to talk about at 6:30 in the fucking morning—or ever.
Resentment was creeping down my limbs; words I didn’t want to say were on the tip of my tongue. I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, and when they opened, I saw something I’d never truly seen before. My father was a shell of a man. I used to look up to him. The days he would come home from a business trip were my all-time favorite. I’d no longer be the man of the house, which was what he'd always told me when he departed for a trip. The second he was home, he’d dote on Mom, wait on her hand and foot. Her cheeks would be rosy from blushing, and her smile would be as bright as the sun. He’d spend nights wrestling with me and Ollie and let us stay up past our bedtime playing football in the backyard. Then he’d leave again on another trip, and things would go back to normal.
And then the crash happened, and nothing was ever normal again.
Maybe it affected him more than I gave him credit for. But that didn’t excuse his lack of parenting. It didn’t justify his decision to forget about his sons. Ollie and I had raised ourselves. He put a roof over our head, paid someone to clean the house and fill the pantry, gave us expensive cars and phones and a credit card with a hefty limit on it, but that wasn’t what we needed, especially after Mom died.
My father kept talking, but I was too busy pushing my thoughts away to hear what he had said. I came in on the tail end of the conversation.
“Ollie said that’s what you wanted, so I’ll go ahead and install it while you’re in school. I thought maybe I’d stay for your game, too, before going back to China for the week.”
I drew my eyebrows together. “Ollie said I wanted what? And you’re staying for our game?”
“The new gaming system. Isn’t that what you wanted?”
I chuckled, feeling some of my anger loosen. I took another sip of my coffee. “I know you’re never truly present when you’re home, but you should know by now that I’d never want something like a gaming system for my birthday. That’s something Ollie would want.”
My dad shook his head. “That little shit.”
I laughed, and for a moment, things seemed normal. Things seemed all right. My dad and me, sitting in the kitchen, drinking coffee and laughing about my younger brother. The only thing missing was Mom. It was such a small glimpse of the life we didn’t have, but it felt good while it lasted.
Ollie popped downstairs, already wearing his uniform, freshly showered and ready to go. “Who’s a little shit?” He slid past me and my father, searching for something to eat in the fridge. He opted for a premade breakfast smoothie that lined the shelves inside.
“You,” my dad and I said at the same time.
I walked over to him and plucked the smoothie out of his hands. He yelled, but I smacked him upside the head. “Thanks for the gaming system. I’ll make sure you never use it.”
“Oh, now come on!” he whined, throwing his hands out. “I knew you’d say you wanted nothing for your birthday like you’ve been doing for the last three years. Why let a perfect birthday go to waste?”
My dad listened to Ollie and me banter back and forth for a while before he excused himself to go on his run. As soon as he was out the door, Ollie snapped his head over to me. “What got into him? He never cares when it’s one of our birthdays. Gets a lame gift and has someone from the store wrap it.”
I shrugged, finishing off the smoothie. “I don’t know, and I don’t really care.”
Ollie’s face remained unreadable. “You're too hard on him sometimes.”
I said nothing in response. Ollie wasn’t nearly as pissed off at our father as I was. I was the cold son; he was the warm one. That was how it had been since Mom died.
“I heard him say he was coming to the game Friday.”
I shrugged, clearly wanting to put a cease and desist order on the conversation.
Ollie ran his hand through his hair. “I don’t think he’s watched us play a single game since before…” I let out a hefty breath as he paused. It’d been four years since Mom died, and Ollie still struggled to say the words, and I did, too, at times. Four years was a long time, relatively speaking, but time didn’t work that way when it came to death. Those memories surfaced whenever they wanted, and they cut just the same.
“Okay…onto better things,” he started, shutting down the previous conversation. “I…wanna know…”—Ollie was dragging his words out in a sing-song voice that made him sound like a little schoolgirl—“why you told Hayley it was her fault Mom died, and also, I’d like to know what the fuck happened between you two in the stairwell.”
I began to shake my head, but Ollie’s voice grew stern—something he was never described as. “Before you say ‘nothing’ and brush me off again, just know I won’t stop pestering you. Every single moment of every single day, I’ll ask again and again.” He dipped his head down. “And you know how annoying I can be.”
I rested my arms on top of the marble counter, hanging my head. For fuck’s sake. “Madeline lied. Cole didn’t rape her friend or try to do anything like that. He dissed her when she made a pass at him, and she wanted to get even. That was what Hayley told me, and she only told me because I agreed not to tell the headmaster a lie that would get her kicked out of English Prep. Madeline stole her clothes because she’s goddamn psycho.”
Ollie paused, taking in my words, and then threw his head back and laughed. “Madeline is a goddamn psycho. What are you going to do?”
I ran my hand feebly down my face. “I’m gonna embarrass the fuck out of her tonight at the birthday party you put together.”
He groaned, smacking his hand on the counter. “It was supposed to be a surprise! Who told you?”
I snickered, walking out of the kitchen. Over my shoulder, I yelled, “You just did, idiot.”
He shouted back. “Don’t think I don’t know that you’re avoiding the first question. I’ll keep pestering you, brother. And I’m nothing but determined.”
I ignored him as he yelled through the bathroom door as I showered and again when I got dressed. I also ignored him the entire drive to school as he drove beside me the entire time, waving his hands out the window. Every time I looked at him, he’d mouth the words Tell me!
He was the most annoying fucking person on this planet.
Once we got to school and in with our group of friends, he finally stopped asking. I’d never been more thankful to be surrounded by a group of people than in that moment.
In the middle of gathering some books out of my locker, everyone chatting around me, I heard Eric say, “Happy birthday to our king.” When I shut my locker and turned my head over to him slightly, I saw he was on his knee, bowing in front of me, causing everyone to laugh.
“Get up, fucker.” I smirked, shaking my head.
“The birthday boy’s party is gonna be lit tonight. Right after we give Kerrington High a run for their money.”
I fist-bumped him and nodded. Madeline was down the hall with her
friends, and she gave me a wink. I winked back, even though an angry fire was erupting inside. I had to play nice until tonight when I brought her down to her knees. The queen of the school was now on the king's shit list. She may even have stolen the number one hate spot from Hayley.
And speak of the china doll herself. I’d been pushing her out of my head since yesterday morning when she’d accused me of telling Headmaster Walton about her little half-naked show. I didn’t want to think about her or continue to picture her with her bra and panties on while I jerked off in the shower. I wanted to hate her and be done with it. So that was what I tried to focus on. I was no longer trying to figure her out. I was ignoring her and hating her all together.
She didn’t exist.
Therefore, the guilt didn’t exist.
But... I kept my face stoic, pretending I was listening to Eric and Ollie going on about making jungle juice for the party. There was talk about potential lap dances lined up for me, alone time in the hot tub with Madeline (Ollie laughed at that idea), and yet, my eyes still wandered over to Hayley.
Snow White. That was the perfect nickname for her. A porcelain Snow White doll. Dark hair. Fair skin. Ruby lips that were naturally stained that color.
I kept watching as the redhead that seemed to be Hayley’s friend placed her hand on Hayley’s wrist. Their heads were huddled together. Hayley was trying to brush something off. She shook her head and shrugged a few times. Then, I watched as her friend reached for Hayley’s uniform shirt. It was half untucked before Hayley took a step back and bristled. She looked around the hallway, seeing if anyone had noticed. Her eyes caught mine, and they grew wide. Then, she looked back at her friend and grabbed her arm, dragging her to the bathroom.
It was like I was sucked into a reality show titled “What Was Hayley Smith Up To?”
“Enjoying the show, brother?” Ollie was standing beside me now, his voice low.
I snapped my attention to him. His green eyes danced with humor.
“Fuck off,” I said as I stormed down the hall and entered my first class, bypassing Madeline, and her crew, and everyone who wished me a happy birthday.
It took everything I had not to rip open the door of the girl’s bathroom to see what Hayley’s friend was so persistent about and why she was lifting her shirt.
I wanted to bang my head off the wall. Why the fuck am I thinking about the girl that drives me to the edge of insanity?
That was what I was.
Insane.
We had almost lost the game tonight. Coach yelled—mainly at me—because we were fucking up passes left and right. He pulled me aside after the locker room was empty, everyone already on their way to Eric’s parents’ cabin for the party.
“Where the hell was your head at tonight, Christian?” His red-rimmed eyes were laced with anger and disappointment. He rubbed the scruff on his face. “You’re lucky the scouts weren’t here tonight. You’ve got scholarships to think about. What the hell was that?”
I knew what it was. My chest grew tight. My shoulders tensed. I wanted to throw my Nikes on and go for a three-mile run in the cool October air so I could clear my head, stop thinking about Hayley, and chill the hell out.
All day I watched her. I couldn’t stop myself. I saw her wince during lunch. I watched as she and her friend talked with their heads jammed together like they were sharing secrets. There were big bags underneath her eyes. Something was off with her, and this weird, fucked-up part of me couldn’t think straight until I knew what.
I had no idea why. Maybe it was because I felt like Hayley was out of my control. She stirred something up inside of me, and it drove me mad. Or maybe it was because there was a time when I would have done anything to protect the girl that made me feel alive.
Coach barked at me again, and I cleared my thoughts. I said the first thing that came to mind. “My dad was supposed to show tonight, but he ditched at the last minute. Had to catch an earlier flight. That’s why I was playing like shit. My head was preoccupied. It won’t happen again.”
“You’re damn right it won’t. Next week is our game against Oakland High. Scouts will be here. The good ones. You need to play your very best.” He grabbed my shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “If anything, make me proud.”
I gave him a curt nod and threw my shirt over my head, and we both exited the locker room. Once I was out by my car, underneath the darkened sky scattered with nighttime stars, I stared out into the abyss. There is no room in your head for Hayley. Not tonight.
And just like that, I pushed her away and climbed in my car. I was going to Eric’s for my birthday, and after I brutally shamed Madeline for being a world-class bitch and a terrible human being, I was going to let go and have fun. I was getting back to the old version of myself—the one who didn’t allow himself to get preoccupied with the past.
Chapter Fifteen
Christian
Eric’s cabin was at full capacity. His parents had just as much money as my father did, so their lake cabin was bigger than most people's homes. His parents knew we used it as a party spot, and as long as we cleaned up the next day and things didn’t get broken, they didn’t give any fucks. Perks of having detached, wealthy parents.
When I walked in, the entire room full of people yelled “surprise” which was stupid considering it wasn’t a surprise party. Eric came out of the kitchen and yelled, “YEE HAW. The birthday boy is here! Time to drop your panties, girls.”
I rolled my eyes as a smirk inched its way onto my face. And not to my surprise, several girls appeared in front of me, lifting their shirts and flashing me their tits. I cocked an eyebrow, giving each girl an equal amount of attention, and then I sauntered off to the kitchen to grab a drink. Ollie was standing there with his back against the counter, wearing a black t-shirt. He was talking to Bristol, a pussy he often frequented when he was in between girls.
Once he saw me, he lifted his cheek. “Happy birthday, bro. Madeline is in the living room, waiting for you.”
My face twitched. Show time. I’ll teach her to fuck with Hayley and me.
My steps faltered as Hayley entered my mind. No, Madeline doesn’t fuck with me. She could fuck with Hayley anytime she wanted. I didn’t care.
Ollie whispered something in Bristol's ear, and before I knew it, she was going around and gathering everyone to follow me into the living room. Madeline was sitting on the couch, a drink in her hand, wearing a scandalous outfit that showed her flat midriff.
She was the shallowest person I knew. Vain. Mean. A liar. The only good thing about her was that she was always eager to please me, dropping to her knees without even asking her to. But just because she was good at sucking my dick, or we were compatible in the bedroom, that didn’t mean I’d humor her with this charade of being her date to prom or the king to her highness. She went too far for my liking. Lying about something like rape was dangerous and downright dirty. Didn’t Madeline know I hated liars?
“There’s the birthday boy,” she purred, sitting up a little taller. Her friends shrunk away as I inched closer. The room was hyped, music pouring from the speakers.
I wanted to put on a show and teach her a lesson. What she did was fucked up. And her friend who went along with it? I’d say she was just as much to blame, but I was 100% certain Madeline had blackmailed her into lying. That was how malicious she was.
Once I got in front of Madeline, she stood up and rose to her tiptoes, looking around the room to make sure all eyes were on us, and tried to kiss me. Right at the last second, I turned my head, and her lips landed on my jawline. She pulled back instantly with a gasp.
“Sorry, babe. I’m just not feeling you tonight.”
She paused, her fingers tightening around my bicep. “Um, what?”
The room quieted a bit, and someone had turned down the music. Ollie met my eye from across the room, and he grinned. People were muttering, clearly confused.
“You know,” I started, peeling her dirty fingers from around my arm. “I
was kind of feeling the hot tub tonight.”
Her face brightened, her pink lips splitting into a smile. “Yeah, it was reserved for us.” A long fingernail trailed the outline of my pecs, and I grabbed onto her hand and pushed it away.
I took a step back. “Actually, Madeline. It was reserved for me. And I don’t think I want you anywhere near me tonight.” I thought for a moment, glancing around the room, looking at our audience. “Or ever.”
This was like social murder for Madeline. Me openly striking her like this. But when you fucked with me, I fucked right back.
That was how I became respected at English Prep. Sure, having the money and last name helped matters, but putting those who did the wrong thing in their place gained me attention. It was the reason I was captain of the football team and why I had the headmaster in my pocket.
“Um, what?” she asked again nervously. The music was cut off completely now. Everyone was at the edge of their seats to hear what I was going to say.
I plucked the drink from her hand and brought it up to my lips, chugging the warm beer that swirled inside. Once I was finished, I handed her back the cup, and she took it with a wary expression on her face.
“See, when you said that Cole had tried to rape your friend, you knew I’d retaliate. Not only because it was Wellington Prep, but because that’s something I’d never stand for in any situation—Wellington Prep or not.” Madeline’s eyes narrowed as our friends started to whisper. Her eyes were saying, “Don’t you dare.” But did I ever. I took languid steps over to April, the girl that Madeline kicked off the cheer squad for cozying up to me a couple of weekends ago, because I knew that’d sting the most, and draped my arm over her dainty shoulder. “I heard that was all a lie. I heard Cole didn’t do the things you accused him of, but that you were wounded because he didn’t want anything to do with you when you tried spreading your legs for him.”
Madeline’s nostrils flared, and she started to shake her head so hard her blonde hair was flapping around her face. “That bitch. She’s lying.”