by L. J. Woods
Words come from the crowd.
“Homewrecker!” Someone calls, pointing at Hazel.
“Temptress!”
Then another. “Seducer! She’s evil!”
“Wh-what?” Hazel looks as stiff as I am. “N-no. He’s the one—”
“Homewrecker!”
Hazel stares at him as he walks across the stage, approaching Delilah with the same look he gives me when he’s about to take full control. The vein in his neck looks like it’s about to explode as he towers over her.
“My son doesn’t indulge in drugs. So what if he was there when your brother died? That’s on your wayward brother. Not him!”
“Dad!” Fuck. He did not make that any better.
Delilah’s face turns redder than I’ve ever seen it, her golden complexion failing to hide it. Then she screams, running at me full force but she’s no match. Taking her in my arms, I’m already starting to regret all this. Starting to regret ever saying anything. Starting to regret ever getting with her.
My dad’s voice turns into a murmur behind me as he tries to settle the crowd but they’re all booing, words flying at Delilah. Others at Hazel.
“Put me down!” she screams, wiggling in my hold and it reminds me of how she shakes and writhes when I make her come. “Gabriel Godfrey I swear to fucking god!”
Nix appears behind her.
The fuck is he doing here? He’s the last person I want to see right now. A security guard appears next to him.
“Ma’am?” the guard greets Delilah. “You’ve been asked to leave the grounds.”
“Gladly!” she yells. “Get me the fuck out of here these people—”
Her voice gets drowned out by chants. “Get her out! Get her out!” My dad turns the crowd against her, something easy for him and now they’re taking out their emotions on her. I’m about to get her out of here before she stalls, Hazel slumping down the stairs, tears streaming down her face.
Delilah stares at me with those slitted amber eyes, waiting for me to say something. Anything. But I don’t know if there’s anything left for me to say.
“Fuck this,” she shakes her head and before she walks away, she wraps her arms around Nix, and presses her lips to his.
And fuck.
Delilah and I never stood a chance.
Delilah
“The heeell was that?”
Nix looks at me like he’s staring at an alien, his fingers to his lips and I’m not surprised. I don’t know what that was. Don’t know what any of it was.
“Let’s go,” I say, tugging hard on the handle of Nix’s car. “Get me the fuck out of here.”
Shaking his head, Nix does as he’s told and I’m grateful. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t the least bit guttered when Gabe doesn’t come after me. The crowd’s chants ring loud in my ears, every word said on that podium echoing in my head. My body still buzzes as we drive out of the gravelly lot but I can’t contain the heat in my chest.
“He was there?!” My fist bangs on the door. “He said he was in rehab! And there’s no way Gabriel and Hazel are an item, right? Pastor Godfrey’s just covering up his sins.” Sinking in my seat, I cross my arms. I crave Gabriel’s hold now more than ever but everything we have is a fucking lie.
“Man, I dunno, but you might have ruined my chances with Mariam,” he mutters.
Slapping his hat off his head, he glances at me. “Really? You’re thinking about yourself right now?” Huffing, I lean my head against the window. “Don’t tell me you’re like everyone else in this town.”
Nix laughs, ruffling my hair. “Shiiit, I’m offended you’d even say that. Especially after I drove two hours for some live-action Clementine Shore.” When I groan, he laughs again. “Liles, you put that man in his place.”
“And I lost Gabe.”
His hand squeezes my shoulder, that tightness coming to my throat before he says the thing that’ll help make it better. “Let’s find a spot to roll one up.”
Nix and I find an empty lot where we hotbox his car. The entire time I ramble about what happened on the stage, “Crossroads” by Bone Thugs-N-Harmony playing on his car stereo. It only makes me feel like this is another funeral. For Gabe and I.
It’s not long before Nix has to get back to the city for his shift, and I have to face the music. But when we pull into Nani’s, the music is a lot louder than I expected.
My head falls to the dash and I bang it against it a few times.
“What now?” Nix stops me, hand on my head.
I don’t wanna look up. Don’t wanna believe what I’m seeing. “My parents.”
“Damn,” Nix sighs. He knows how bad they are. Knows how much they suck out of my soul. “Want me to turn around and take you with me?”
Turning my head towards him, the top of my hair still pressed against the dash I give him as much of a smile as I can muster. “That’s not the best idea.”
The door swings open and my mom stands in the door with her arms crossed. She’s in sparkly leggings and a matching top and she looks pissed. News travels fast in Clementine but I come with ammo and nothing gets her off my back like an apology. I say goodbye to Nix for as long as I can, giving him a long squeeze and apologizing for assaulting him at the festival. He makes me permit him to kick my ass if I ever do anything like that again without warning. With that, he backs out the driveway and it’s my mom and me.
“I’m sorry,” I say, getting the hardest part out of the way first. “But it’s not—”
“Get your things, Delilah,” she says.
My hand drops, as I hold the board tighter to my side. “Wait, what?”
“Get. Your. Things,” she repeats. “Your grandmother was wrong. You’re not better off here at all.”
“Mom, I can’t just—”
“Delilah, I’m not arguing with you,” she says. “You’re expelled. Nani doesn’t want you here. This isn’t something you can just fight yourself out of. What are you gonna do? Live on the streets?”
“Expelled?” Wait. “Nani doesn’t want me here anymore? Where the fuck am I supposed to go? With you?!”
“Delilah?” Her big eyes widen some more. “Watch it!”
“That doesn’t answer the question!” While I hate it at SAA, and while I hate Clementine, the last place I wanna be is holed up with my mom. Especially with Tim.
Fuck Tim.
“Tim and I are in Burn. It’s just an hour north.”
“Great. Take me further away from civilization.”
“You don’t have a choice! You’re homeless!” she yells, pointing a sparkly pink nail in my face. She’s right. I can’t afford to go back to the city on my own and if Grandma doesn’t want me here, what other choices do I have?
I’m already tired of fighting with my mom. It’s like yelling at a narcissistic brick wall, I’ll never get through to her. So I drop my shoulders, walking past her into the house where my grandma sits at the table, Bible in front of her.
“I’m sorry Grandma.” Hugging her, I squeeze as hard as I can, her cushy body warm and soft.
“I know,” she says, patting my arm. “Go with Mummy, okay? You’re a good girl.” My Grandma has been more of a mother to me than my mother ever has and that’s saying a lot. My grandma doesn’t have the best credentials either. But I know when I’ve overstayed my welcome. I’m glad Tim’s not here to throw salt on the wound and getting out of Clementine won’t be so bad.
Coming back here was the mistake.
When I make it up the steps to the second floor, my eyes land on Elijah’s room. Or Gabriel’s room. Their room. My gut twists before I push it open. Gabriel let my brother die. He was there like I thought and I let him tell me different. Much worse, I let him into my heart. Into my body. When he’s just like his dad. Sick. Twisted.
Unforgivable.
I want to call Nix to take me back to the city but another fresh start—a real one—is what I need to get over the pain. The loss. The hurt. And if anything, it’ll be exactly w
hat I need to get over Gabriel Godfrey.
For good.
Thirty-One
Gabriel
My room is an extension of how I am.
A mess.
Everything inside me is telling me to give Delilah a call, but something in my mind is telling me not to. Even after I texted her.
Looking at my phone, I check for a response again but I stare at my own message instead.
Gabriel: We need to talk.
It’s not the most apologetic message but what the fuck do I have to be sorry for? It took her no time to go back on her word and out my family at the festival for everyone to hear including the scout.
Now I’m not sure if I have a future with Delilah and I’m not sure if I have a future. Period.
I need to get fucked up.
Now.
I need this pain to stop. I need my mind to stop.
The only thing that can calm me down is her. Or drugs. And now I can’t find either.
The front door rattles open before I hear my dad call my name, “Hammer!”
Thought I’d be out of here before they got home from the festival but no matter where I look, I come up empty. They must have hired a specialist because I can’t find anything anywhere. No pills. No blow. No fucking weed. Drawers sit empty on my bed. Cabinets in the bathroom stay open, pillows and cushions turned inside out.
“Ham—” My dad appears in the doorway but the only thing I care about is where the fuck my emergency stash went. “What’s going on?” He straightens up by the door.
“Me?!” I’m way too unstable to start a conversation right now and the way he’s looking at me like he’s actually fucking worried only irritates me more. Taking a puck off the floor, I throw it his way. He ducks, the puck flying out the door. “You’re the one fucking half my school!”
“Now, Gabriel—”
“Oooh, let me guess. Am I mistaken? Am I wrong? Do I need Jesus? I’m out of my mind?” I’m starting to feel like it and if I don’t get something in me, I will be. Picking up a stick off the bed, I crack it over my knee, anything to get the frustration out of me. “Fuck you! Get the fuck out!”
“Are you using again?”
“Why, is that all the fuck you care about?” Lifting the mattress, I find nothing. “Delilah ruined your rep. Give it up.”
SLAM!
My door closes and when I drop the mattress, my dad stares at me, his nostrils flared like mine. “Do we have to send you back to rehab? If what Delilah says is true we need—”
“If what Delilah says is true, you’re fucked!” I’m laughing now. Loud and I’ve hit my limit.
My father bows his head, starting to pray as if that’ll make all this go away. I continue laughing through it but he won’t stop. In fact, this fucker starts speaking in the “language of God,” in “tongues” or whatever it is and I’ve had enough. Chucking an empty pill bottle at his head gets him to stop, all for a second before he gets louder, his hands in the air. Fuck all this. There’s nothing for me here. No drugs. No father. Moving around him, he tries to stop me while he’s deep in prayer, backing up against the door to block my path.
I really don’t want to hit him. Despite the many times he’s hit me. Despite how badly he deserves it. So to his praying, I start screaming. Wailing in his face. “Shut the fuck up!” He doesn’t and my hands come to his chest, pressing him harder against the door. “Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” He never listens to me and he doesn’t start now. The crazed fuck continues his prayers and when his hands come to my head, hard like he’s trying to push the spirit of god in me, I snap, my fist coming to his face.
He stops.
Finally.
With the silence, I’m sure the entire town can hear how fast my heart beats, my fist in the air.
“Get out!” he yells, holding his bloody nose and he’s too rocked to fight back. Looks like I’m finally bigger. “Get out of this house!” He starts to pray again, casting the demons out of me but it’s not that easy.
If rehab couldn’t do it, what makes him think Jesus can?
Pushing him out of my way, I make my way for the door, my Mom in the driveway as I go. “Gabriel!” she calls, but I’m not in the mood for round two. She’s the enabling piece of trash that cares more about my father’s reputation and money than she ever did about me. Climbing in the driver’s seat of my car, my mom still calls for me. But I can’t save her if I can’t save myself first. Her tear-drenched face is the last thing I see before I’m gunning it towards Adam’s.
It’s after dinner and I know he’ll be there with his family and I know he’ll have what I need. My car’s hardly in the driveway before I’m hopping out of the driver’s seat, rushing to his door like his house will disappear. My fists rap against the door, my feet shuffling from side to side. If I keep moving it’ll stop the pain coursing through my body, the need to tear my skin off my bones.
“Adam!” I don’t give him the time to get to the door before I’m calling his name. “Adam!” Something shifts in the corner of my eye and when I look to my left, someone’s dropping the curtain. His dad?
So I knock again. They’re home but no one’s opening the door. For a family that’s known me most of my life, this isn’t normal. Something’s up. So I knock again. “Adam? Mister and Misses Armstrong?” My knuckles start to hurt with how heavy I’m banging against it. “Hey!” The door swings open on my last word, Adam finally answering in a silk dress shirt.
He speaks first, “You can’t be here.”
That throws me off some more. “The fuck you mean, man?”
Adam looks over his shoulder before they fall. “You can’t be here. That shit at the festival has my parents asking me to stay away from you and Delilah.”
“No,” I chuckle but I’m not finding this funny. “Don’t tell me that bullshit.”
He looks apologetic, curling his lips in as he scratches at the back of his head. “Yeah, man. Might wanna get some help. Some real help this time.” His eyes go from my feet to my head and I can already tell my dishevelled appearance isn’t helping my case. I hardly got a shirt on before I left, an open black hoodie exposing tattoos and muscles above my joggers. He’s about to close the door but my hand presses against it.
“Wait! Do you got anything?”
“Adam?” A familiar voice calls his name. His mom’s.
“Come on, man,” I beg. “You know I need this. Delilah she—”
“I shouldn’t.” He hesitates, looking back into the lit-up house. ‘I can’t. They’ll cut me off, G.”
“Ada—”
SLAM!
“Fuck!” The door shutting rings through my skull. My fist slams against the door, my foot following but that doesn’t help either. “Fucking fuck! Fuck!!” I can’t help but knock again, pressing the doorbell this time for good measure. If Adam can’t talk to me, I can annoy him to the point that he will.
The door swings open Adam’s father this time and he looks pissed. “Gabriel, “ he says, voice sterner than I’ve ever heard it. Unlike Adam, he’s bald and round, hair coming out of the top of his dress shirt. He’s in a suit like they’re having dinner with the Queen. “You need to get off our steps or I’m calling the cops.”
“The police? I just need to talk to Adam,” I plead. “A few minutes.” That’s all it’ll take to get a couple of bars to last me the night.
“Your father is right,” he says, shaking his head, eyes on the ground. “You need help, son.” The door closes again. My nostrils flare. Body tense.
Fuck my dad.
Tapping my shoe on the concrete, I try to think of my next step.
Nurse Kelly.
I’ve only ever been to her house once and that’s to drop her off after her car stalled outside the school. Sure we fooled around but that was only to get my hands on some of that good shit I knew she had back home. I got something else that night.
Her address.
Driving over, my hands grip tight to the wheel. I keep glancing at
my phone for Delilah’s response. Still nothing. That only makes me drive faster. Flipping the phone over in the driver’s seat, I try not to think about it. Try not to think about her.
She fucked this up. Not me.
Thank fuck Kelly’s Prius is in the driveway when I get there, the lights on. Her place is smaller than ours, not too far from Delilah’s and it takes a walk down a narrow, flowered path before I’m at her door. Taking a deep breath, I ring the doorbell like a gentleman. Trying to be calmer than I was ten minutes ago. She doesn’t take long to answer, pulling the door back with her eyebrows high. “Gabriel?” Kelly’s in a pink silk kimono, cleavage on display but that still doesn’t make this easy.
“Hey, I was in the neighbourhood so I—”
“You can’t be here,” she whispers, her eyes roaming my abs. She looks behind me. “Are you okay?”
No. “You wanna grab a coffee or something?”
“Now?” she asks, meeting my gaze.
I nod, giving her those eyes. The ones I know can bring that red to her cheeks. “Now.”
“You can’t just come to my house, what if someone sees us?”
I shrug, trying to play this thing in my favour. “So, let them see.” I’m willing to give up my entire reputation for that sweet, sweet roll. I’m even willing to date the fucking school nurse. I was an idiot to think Delilah was all I needed.
A fucking idiot.
She hesitates, pulling her robe around her. “I don’t know, Gabriel. This is a bad idea.”
Fuck talking. With my hand against the door frame, I step closer. She takes a step back. With a cocked brow, I bring my other hand to her waist, pulling her forward.
“Gabe,” she whispers but I’m already bringing my lips to hers. I’m wincing on the inside. Always am. Nurse Kelly tastes like coffee. Bitter. She smells like cheap perfume and her lips aren’t as soft as Delilah. Not as sweet. Her kiss doesn’t make me forget about the real reason I’m here. Doesn’t make me forget about the pain echoing through my body. No, this is business. Her hands come to my chest and I’m so surprised at her push that it makes me stumble.