“No. I usually just run and practice yoga. Boxing is… it’s a new thing for me.” I thought of Alex’s story, of how Tripp had gotten him into boxing as a way to channel his rage.
That was part of it for me, definitely. But I also liked feeling stronger, like if someone tried something on me again I could fight back.
“Do you mind?” Maddy nodded to the basket of boxing gloves. I shook my head, indicating that she should go ahead.
She chose a pair, strapped them on, then turned to face the punching bag. I watched as she eyed the bag up like it the New Haven incarnation of Darth Vader, then let fly with a series of punches and kicks.
“Wow.” My mouth dropped as she pummeled the bag, looking like some kind of warrior princess. I was mesmerized, and I found myself lifting up onto my toes, anxious to try the kicks out for myself.
Finally, she stopped, bending over at the waist, sweat dripping to the floor. She looked up at my open mouthed expression and grinned.
“I’m pretending that the bag is Brett.” She was out of breath, but I heard the grim satisfaction in her tone. “Feels fucking awesome.”
Bouncing on my toes now, I eyed the bag. The punches were starting to feel natural, but the kicks added a whole new dynamic.
“Bend the knee that’s holding your weight, and drive upward from that.” Standing, Maddy pulled her gloves off and reached for her water bottle. “Think of the kick as coming from your entire body, not just your leg.”
I did as she said, eyeing the back with narrowed eyes. Trying to throw my entire weight behind it, I kicked. Like the first time Alex had strapped gloves on me, it was far from perfect, the bag moving only a little bit while the blow reverberated down my leg.
But Maddy was right. It felt fucking awesome.
“Again.” She urged me, and I attacked the bag. I kicked, kicked, punched, then kicked some more. At some point I heard a shout issue from my lips, but I was too intent on the power that came with the burn in my muscles as I poured every bit of strength I had into the blows.
Finally I couldn’t do it anymore. I hunched over, winded, my body turned to jelly. But when I looked at Maddy’s own sweaty face, when she again gave me that grin, I felt stronger than I ever had.
“Awesome,” She said, reaching for her gloves again. “My turn.”
I smiled back up at her, nodding in agreement.
Awesome.
“What the hell are you doing?” The dorm room had been empty when I’d left to shower off the sweat from the gym; when I returned, Kaylee was sitting cross legged on her bed, a bottle of vodka in her lap and her toothbrush cup in her hand. “Kaylee?”
She smiled up at me, and the curve of her lips was sad, sadder than I’d ever seen her. She sloshed vodka into her cup, then took a tiny sip, shuddering at the taste.
“I’m drinking. Duh.”
I nodded warily, dumping my shower caddy and damp towel on the floor and crossing to sit next to her on her bed.
“I see that.” I started carefully. Kaylee drank plenty, but always in a social context. “Uh… it’s five in the afternoon.”
“Yup.” Pinching her nose shut, Kaylee tilted her head back and chugged the rest of the vodka shot in her cup. She gagged once, her nose was unpinched, twisting her face up comically.
Despite her expression, I got the feeling that she wasn’t really in a joking mood.
“What’s going on?” I watched warily as she poured another shot into the cup. The liquid was viscous, a gelatinous river as it streamed from the bottle.
Again, I saw that sad smile, and again she shot the alcohol back.
“Have you ever had something that you wished you could tell people, but you can’t?”
Her words slapped me hard in the face, sending me reeling.
“Who are you talking about?” My voice was a whisper. She couldn’t be talking about me, she just couldn’t.
No one knew my secret.
She turned to face me, her eyes just beginning to look glassy as the effects of the vodka shots set in.
“I told you we all have our problems, right?” Sighing heavily, she screwed the lid on the bottle of vodka and tossed it to me. “Mine are just biting me in the ass right now. I just talked to my mom.” She added, catching my puzzled look.
I frowned, knowing that that couldn’t be good news. To say that Kaylee wasn’t on good terms with her family was an understatement. They knew where she was, where she went to school, but she never contacted them, and tried to avoid it if they made contact with her.
“I see.” I really didn’t. Just like I never talked about my high school years, Kaylee didn’t talk about her family.
She flopped back onto her pillow, her words beginning to slur, leading me to think that she’d already had a couple of shots before I’d entered our room.
“Joel was supposed to be my crazy fun before I faced the music.” Her words were thick, and a bit hard to understand. I leaned forward to listen, jostling the bottle of vodka as I did.
Kaylee pointed at it, her finger swinging lazily in the air.
“You should try some. This drinking at dinner time thing is kinda fun.” She giggled, covering her eyes with her arm, as she hummed a tuneless song.
It was on the tip of my tongue to refuse, but then I shrugged. Why not?
I knew I wasn’t the Serena I’d been in high school anymore. But I didn’t much want to be the prim girl she’d become, either.
I wanted to have some fun. And right now I wanted to have a couple of sympathy vodka shots with my best friend, just for the hell of it.
Unscrewing the lid of the bottle, I chugged back a mouthful and promptly gagged as the fire scorched the skin inside my throat.
“Gross.” I set the bottle aside, then flopped down at the foot of Kaylee’s bed, my head by her feet and my feet by her head.
“Serena?” Kaylee’s voice was soft, weighted down with alcohol. I grunted my response, since the hefty swig I’d taken was working its way through me as well, making me feel weighed down and lethargic.
“How do you do it? How do you move on?” Kaylee asked. I swallowed heavily, having no idea what to say. “From something that might come back to haunt you at any time? Can you even?”
“I don’t know.” Even without knowing what, exactly, she was talking about, this was the best answer I could give. “I’m not really the best one to ask. I’m a mess.”
Kaylee snorted out a laugh, rolling to her side. “Sister, you have no idea.” We lapsed into silence for a second, and my mind drifted to Felicity, to Bob… to Alex.
Alex’s past had left scars on him, but those scars didn’t define him the way mine did.
I didn’t know what I had to do to catch up with him, but I had to figure out something.
“I wish I wanted what they want for me.” Kaylee’s voice was getting softer, her breathing more even, and I could tell that she was drifting off. Quietly I got up, tugging the covers of her unmade bed up and over her.
“Serena?”
“Hmm?” I turned off all the lights except for the reading one clipped to my headboard. I’d catch up on my studying while she took a nap. I’d seen Kaylee sleep off a drunk before. I wouldn’t wake her.
“I want you to be happy. I don’t know if I can ever be, but you… Alex… he’s into you. So much.”
I dropped my heavy textbook onto my bed, turned and stared. Though Kaylee was on the very edge of sleep, her words were entirely lucid.
“I… how can you tell?” He’d told me he loved me the night before, but I still couldn’t quite believe it.
I didn’t know how it could possibly last, once he knew… once he knew everything.
“Stop sab… sab… sabotaging yourself.” Kaylee yawned once, hugely, then flopped onto her stomach and buried her face in her pillow.
Her last words before she fell asleep were muffled, but I still understood them well enough.
“No matter what happened before, you have a chance to be happy now. So
what the fuck are you waiting for?”
Kaylee’s words were all but a dare, and they made me squirm. I tried to focus on my textbook, and instead found myself reaching for the bottle of vodka, mixing it in Kaylee’s cup with the remains of the flat two liter of lemon lime soda that we had in the room. It wasn’t very palatable, but I found I was liking the buzz that became stronger with every sip.
By nine that evening Kaylee had dozed off her bender and had gone off muttering about coffee. I was full of liquid courage and ready to do something about it. Picking up my phone, I typed out a quick text to Alex.
Whatcha doing?
His response was almost instantaneous.
Wondering what UR doing.
I grinned. As promised, he’d called earlier, but I’d still been contemplating what Kaylee had said and hadn’t answered.
Wanna come over?
I felt my heart begin a little tap dance in my chance when I realized what it was I was going to try to do.
Just back from practice. Let me shower quick and I’ll be over.
My nerves began a quick tap dance on my belly once he agreed to come over. Half of me was dying to see him, to relive that connection I’d felt when we’d finally had sex last night.
The other half… the other half of me was convinced that he would hear what I had to say, would cast me the look of disgust I remembered all too clearly from Felicity’s face, and would leave me alone with my pain.
To kill the time, I chugged another vodka with stale soda. I wasn’t sure I entirely liked the hazy feeling that was settling over me from the alcohol, but I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to spit this out on my own.
I didn’t think there was any shame in it. I was doing what I had to do to get through, just like I’d always done.
Even though I was waiting for it, the knock on the door still startled me. Nausea from nerves almost convinced me to ignore it, but the memory of Alex’s face the night before, as he told me his own tale, forced my feet to move.
“Hi.” His smile was boyish and almost shy when I opened the door, and I was reminded of that first day I’d met him. So much had happened between us, it seemed like forever ago.
“Hi.” I stepped back to let him in, and he looked around with interest as he entered. He gestured to the tidy side of the room—my side—and grinned.
“This is yours, I bet.” He said. A pang went through me at the innocent words.
I didn’t want to be predictable. I just wanted to be me.
“It is,” I agreed, then approached him where he stood, by the foot of the bed. “Do you… will you sit down?”
He did as I asked, not asking why. He trusted me.
I was going to trust him.
“I have to show you something.” Before I could lose my nerve, I fisted the hem of my T-shirt in palms that were damp with nerves. I saw his eyes widen as I slowly lifted the plain cotton up and over my head.
My entire body began to tremble as I let my T-shirt fall to the floor. I stood in front of Alex in my jeans and my bra, more clothed than I’d been when we’d had sex.
More clothed… but infinitely more naked.
“Serena…” Alex started, his eyes skimming over me as he tried to find what it was I’d been hiding from him. I stepped closer, into the golden ring of light from the lamp, letting it illuminate the skin of my upper arms, and the lines that lay there.
I said nothing as his eyes locked in on them. Swallowing past the bitter bile that rose in my throat, I tried to control my shivering as he reached out to run fingers over the scars.
“You cut yourself?” His fingers found the raised lines where I had cut over and over, the bumpy ones where I had pulled away the scabs and bled anew. There wasn’t usually much sensation in the silvery skin, but I felt every stroke of his fingers as he explored.
“Yes.” I had thought that I would cry, but tears didn’t come.
“Why?” His eyes flicked up, burned right into mine, before he continued to explore my skin.
I wanted to flinch away, wanted to hide the raw imperfections, but he had let me see him, touch him.
I had to do the same.
“It was the only way I could get rid of the pain.” I could barely hear my own voice, but couldn’t seem to speak any louder.
“I was… abused… when I was fifteen.” My voice shook when Alex’s fingers momentarily dug into my skin. I waited, waited for the disgust to paint itself over his features.
There was none. Instead I saw… anger? Yes, barely banked anger.
And he wasn’t mad at me.
“What happened to him?” He growled. I almost collapsed with relief that he hadn’t asked me who. Suddenly needing his touch more than I needed my next breath, I straddled his lap, resting my hot cheek on his shoulder.
“Nothing.” My voice was raw, full of jagged edges of repressed pain. “I only told one person and she… she didn’t believe me. I’ve never told anyone else, until now.”
I felt Alex’s harsh exhalation against my chest, felt his biceps tighten when he clenched his hands into fists. I clung to him tightly, appreciating his fury.
He cared.
“What can I do?” The anger was there in his voice, but he was banking it… for me, I realized.
I began to shake with the intensity of everything I was feeling. I hadn’t known him very long, but the connection between us was proof that love couldn’t be measured with a calendar or a clock.
“Just hold me.” I whispered, burying my face into his neck. I felt his fingers at the clasp of my bra, and stiffened, surprised by the movement.
“Ssh.” Removing my bra, he laid me down on my bed, then pulled his own shirt off. I understood what he was about when he laid down beside me and pulled me in close, his front to my back.
The contact of our naked skin was like a tranquilizer, and I pressed back against him, craving the numbness. He pulled my navy duvet up and overtop of us, then banded one arm around my waist. His free hand settled on my breast, but there nothing sexual in the touch. It took me a second to realize that his hand was over my heart, feeling its beats slow as I gradually calmed down.
“I got my tattoos to hide my scars.” Alex whispered into my hair. I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
“After I did, I wished I hadn’t.”
“Why?” I wanted to stay here forever, cocooned in the safe bubble of Alex’s arms.
He nuzzled my ear before he spoke, and when I heard his words, my insides turned to liquid.
“Wounds leave scars. But scars show you survived.”
Chapter Twelve
Alex left for football practice before I woke up the next morning, scrawling a note on a scrap of paper for me to find when I woke up. I was surprised that I hadn’t woken when he’d left—since my teens I’d been a light sleeper, my subconscious always listening for the footfalls outside my door. But last night I’d slept better than I had… well, ever.
Sitting up in bed, I stretched and glanced at the clock. A squeak escaped me when I realized I hadn’t set my alarm and had slept later than usual.
I’d already missed my Social Psych class. I had to hustle or I would miss my American Lit class. And in American Lit I would see Alex.
I couldn’t stop the goofy smile from spreading over my face.
I’d told him, and he hadn’t run.
As I stepped into my jeans, I decided I’d hit the gym again after class. I liked feeling stronger.
Maybe Alex would come with me.
My phone vibrated on my pillow as I was pulling my hair back into my usual ponytail. Giddily thinking it might be Alex, I secured the elastic in my hair and hurried to check the message.
The number that showed on my screen was unknown, but I recognized the area code from home. Tendrils of dread began to twine around my heart as I opened the message.
News from home was never good.
Serena, this is Bob. Call me at this number.
As if it had scalded my hands, I
threw the phone down on my bed. I had blocked every number Bob had ever tried to contact me from, but he must have gotten a new cell.
The phone vibrated again, indicating another message coming through. I contemplated just deleting it without reading it—there was nothing on earth that could convince me to call my stepfather—but I felt the steel snapping into my spine as anger took the place of fear.
He couldn’t hurt me anymore, not unless I let him.
This is an emergency. Call me now.
I could hear my teeth as I ground them together. Not happening.
You’ll have to explain here, and make it quick. I’m not calling.
I expected him to argue, to try to dominate me as he’d always done. He didn’t, and his next text took my breath away.
Your mother is in the hospital. Car accident. You need to come home.
I blinked at the phone, not sure if I’d read it right.
The words stayed the same.
Should I believe them? Guilt struck seconds after I had the thought. Whatever else Bob was—and he was a lot of things—I was pretty sure he loved my mom. I didn’t think he’d make up something like this.
I called the hospital back home, just to be sure.
Yes, they confirmed, Felicity Baker had been admitted that morning. No, they could not give any details whatsoever over the phone. No, not even for her daughter.
My mind was reeling as I hung up from the call. As far as I was concerned, Felicity had given up on her duties as my mother a long time ago.
But that didn’t mean I had stopped being her daughter.
Confusion clouding my mind, I tapped out a quick text to Alex.
My mom was in a car accident. I have to go home. Packing, then heading to Greyhound station.
I hit send, then, as an afterthought, added one more thing.
I love you.
My bag was nearly packed, the texts to Kaylee and my professors sent, by the time Alex replied—I didn’t imagine he kept his phone on him.
I’ll come pick you up.
What to Read After FSOG: The Gemstone Collection (WTRAFSOG Book 3) Page 14