Hurt Like Me

by P. A. Brokenshire

  The look on my face was steel. I was chewing the insides of my cheeks to hold back the urge to say more. I wanted him to stew on that. He took his feet off the table and leaned forward, pressing his elbows to the hard wood. His icy eyes glared into me, meeting my anger.

  "I don't need anything from you," he said the words with a slow, dark smirk before standing. "Fail then, bitch."

  I felt like all the air in my body just disappeared. He left me sitting at the table. Mr. Watts didn't even look up from his book as he walked out of the library. He'd called my bluff and I had no idea what to do about it. The students around me whispered. No doubt about me, and Garrett's abrupt absence. I'd gotten accustomed to their taunting. It's why I didn't have social media, it's why I avoided talking to anyone unless I absolutely had to. Best to be considered shy then the butt of everyone's jokes.

  Shaking my head with a laugh I did my best to shut them out. I compiled my research into a stack. I needed to get Garrett to at least agree to the invention at the bare minimum. I could fake his participation through the rest of the project. I'd put on a good front, but if I failed it would bring my A to a C. Still passing, though far from my average. The final bell rang, and I was the first one out of the library.

  The cool air in the courtyard was a reprieve to my warm skin. I could feel it through my sweater. We were well into February, and March was fast approaching. My four month sentence was getting closer to three. The thought brought a smile to my face as I made my way to my car. It started on the second try and I even got a little heat for a change. Dad may be a good carpenter, but he was a shit mechanic. No point fixing it now. I wouldn't need a car in New York. I wouldn't need anything. The thought reminded me of Garrett's sharp words. He may not need anything, but I needed him to pick an invention. I shuffled through the papers I had and pulled out the best idea in the bunch. It was stupid, childish honestly. It would make for a good nostalgic factor though. People loved to buy stuff they could relate to and it would be easy to make.

  A knock on the car window made me jump. I looked up to find Chris, Garrett's brother. Great, another fucking prank. I didn't need that shit.

  "Go away," I said through the window, organizing my papers into my bag. I went to shift into drive, but he knocked again, holding up his hands in surrender when I scowled at him. He had his motorcycle helmet in one hand and nothing in the other. He wanted to make it clear he was unarmed. No cell phone, no spray paint, no toilet paper, or honey. I'd seen it all.

  I rolled down the window with a glare. He smiled and I felt my anger dissipate a little. He looked mature for just turning seventeen. If he had been born a couple months prior, he and Garrett could have been Irish twins. It was hard to remember they were even related. They looked nothing alike, ran in different social circles, and I rarely saw them together. They had such contrasting personalities. At least from what I could tell at a distance. If Garrett was a shadow, Chris was a warm reading lamp.

  "I just wanted to say I'm sorry for my brother."

  "Sorry that he was born? Can't say I blame you. I would be too if I were you."

  He laughed uncomfortably and adjusted an out of place leather jacket over his red sweater. Chris wore better clothes than most people in high school and he had a bit of a hot professor thing going on. I chastised myself inwardly for that thought. One guy smiled at me with kindness and of course I took it immediately in the wrong direction. I needed to stop reading so many romance novels. It didn't help that his brother had shown me that photo. I was still thoroughly hot and bothered. That thought made my anger rise again.

  "Well, if that's it, I've got places to be."

  "Yeah of course," he murmured, shuffling nervously. "Someone just told me that Garrett ditched you in the library and I saw you sitting here. Thought I could at least check in and apologize. He can be a...handful sometimes."

  "That's an understatement. Your brother is a dick," I said, pulling my hair into a ponytail. A frustratingly hot dick. There had to be a point where being hot just wouldn't give you a pass on your tantrums. Surely his parents didn't let him get away with shit? Or maybe they did. Then who in his life had shit in his cheerios or was he born that way? A little shit from birth. "What's his fucking problem anyway? Was he bullied as a kid and now has to take it out on everyone else?"

  Chris choked for a second, before regaining his composure. It was obvious that my statement had surprised him and maybe hit a nerve. Huh, maybe there was more to the shadow that was Garrett Hathaway.

  "I should have said something a few weeks ago after the hallway incident. I try to stay out of his business, ignore the pranks, but shoving you...he took it way too far. I just wanted you to know that not all of us Hathways are jerks. I'll try to keep him in check. He listens to me."

  I laughed, like honest to God laughed. It had been a while. It was truly funny to me that Chris thought he had some sway over his brother. I highly doubted that. He laughed with me.

  "Okay, so sometimes he doesn't tell me to fuck off at least," he said finally, smiling sheepishly.

  Now that was probably a more accurate statement. I heaved a deep sigh and tried to give him a warm smile. It was not Chris' fault that his brother was an asshole. I held up a finger to pause him as an idea suddenly occurred to me. I grabbed the invention ideas from my bag and passed them through the window to Chris.

  "Can you take these to him? Maybe help him pick one for our senior project?"

  "I can try," he said, tucking the papers into his own bag. "Maybe I can catch him at home if I go straight there. Sometimes he comes home to grab clothes after school, especially on Fridays."

  "Clothes?" I asked, confused.

  "Yeah, um, he spends most nights at Trevor's."

  That's weird.

  "Okay, well, just give them back to me on Monday if he doesn't take them."

  He gave me a nod and turned to walk across the parking lot. I watched him climb onto his bike and place his helmet on before situating his glasses. My stomach flipped. There was something undeniably attractive about a guy on a motorcycle. I shook my head again and reminded myself that I shouldn't be staring at Garrett's brother. Granted, it was no worse than staring at Garrett which I had done a lot of recently. The words he had spoken in the hallway to Heather were still running in my mind on repeat. Clearly, I was losing my mind.

  I turned on the radio loud enough to drown out my thoughts and by the time I pulled up to our cute little pale blue house nestled in the woods I had almost forgotten about Garrett and his brother. Almost.

  Chapter 5

  Garrett- 10 years ago

  My mind reeled, replaying the scene in the library. I had expected to get a rise out of Avery. She was so easy to manipulate, but her reaction to the porn was not quite what I anticipated. I thought she would throw the phone down, maybe smack me, or run out of the library. She hadn't. I'd seen enough women turned on before to know that is what happened. Her eyes went wide for the briefest moment, her body had tensed. I had watched her flush and squirm, her body reacting before she got it under control. Then she'd snapped back at me and boy, had she hit the wrong fucking nerve.

  "You need me," Chris argued, shaking his head and dropping his bag. " Who's going to take care of you if I go?"

  Chris looked at me with such sorrow. I wanted him to be excited for camp, but he was afraid to leave me alone.

  "Just go, it will be fine. For an 8-year-old you worry an awful lot," I said, handing him his bag and ruffling his hair. "It's one week."

  A week of beatings, of torture. Just another week in my never-ending agony. Chris didn't need to be there to witness it. The bus pulled up and I waved to my brother as he boarded before heading back into the house. I took a slice of bread and hoped that it would go unnoticed. I hadn't eaten since the apple Chris gave me the day before. My legs felt sore from being cramped into my chest in the closet. I laid out on Chris' bed and stretched them. I even dozed for a little while, before securing myself back in the closet so I would b
e out of reach when she got home. One week. I would live.

  I popped a couple percs to fight off the memories as I dug through my dresser, looking for clothes to wear for the weekend. Honestly, I didn't know why I hadn't just moved my shit to Trevor's guest house already. It's not like Trevor would care. The fridge was fully stocked for me there. If I really wanted to, I could add my stuff to the bedroom drawers. It was a two bedroom after all. A part of me knew that would be the likely outcome after graduation. For now, it was still nice to have the fresh clothes scented with Laura's favorite detergent. It smelled like escape to me. The first scent that I recognized in my new life, it made me feel...loved.

  "No one will ever love you."

  That damn voice. Hopefully, the drugs would kick in soon.

  "I was hoping I would catch you," Chris said, appearing in the doorway. He was in his leathers with a bit of helmet hair. He must have ridden the motorcycle today. At least someone was getting some use out of it. I should ride it more often. It certainly got better gas mileage than my car.

  He took some papers from his bag and held them out to me.

  "Avery wanted me to give these to you. She said you need to pick one of these for your senior project?"

  Avery? Why the fuck was he talking to Avery? He could talk to whoever the fuck he wanted to of course. Avery wasn't in his crowd though. He was friends with some of the football team and the smarter crowd. Avery was far from either of those groups. She was a loner. She didn't have a single friend in the whole school. She was too weird, too focused on her books or her grades. When we had started the school year she had tried to talk to a few of the girls, but they shunned her. She wasn't into makeup or whatever the fuck those up tight girls were in to and there were a few guys who thought she was hot until she'd opened her mouth.

  "And?" I prompted, grabbing the papers and placing them on the bed.

  There were at least 15 different pieces of paper with simple line drawings and descriptions. I left them sprawled out on the dark sheets before going back to packing my clothes. Chris let out a groan of annoyance and sat on my bed, digging through the pile.

  "How about this one? It's a toaster with a warming tray for butter."

  I shook my head, not even bothering to look at him as I packed a couple pairs of black boxers.

  "Okay, what about a phone holder that attaches to the wall and you can hang your keys from it?"

  A gray shirt with dark jeans, a white button up with slacks for some cocktail party the Matthews were having, and a couple pairs of socks. I was packing a bit faster now. I wanted to be out of there before the high hit.

  Chris shoved the last of the papers in my bag.

  He got up from the bed, but his eyes were firmly focused on the floor.

  "She thinks you were bullied as a kid and that's why you treat everyone like shit. She's observant."

  What the fuck?! That was way too close to the truth for my liking. I hurt people because I was raised on pain. Hurt was the easiest emotion in my repertoire and Avery needed to mind her own fucking business or she was going to find out how much I could hurt her. She damn sure didn't need to be talking to Chris anymore.

  "She needs to mind her own fucking business." I snapped at him.

  "She doesn't deserve your shit attitude. She keeps to herself and you should leave her alone."

  I scoffed and glared at him. No one deserved my shit attitude. If people would just leave me the fuck alone it wouldn't be a problem. Let me drink, let me smoke, let me fuck, and leave me alone. Why was that so hard to understand? It was always so much work with people. They all wanted something. The guys wanted me to attract the girls, the girls wanted nice words to let me into their panties, the school wanted good scores for the city to give them money, and my family wanted me to stop destroying myself. Then there was Avery, being all types of fucking nosy. All I wanted was for the voices and nightmares to stop. Everyone would just have to deal with the aftermath.

  "Well good thing is she won't have to put up with me for much longer. None of you will."

  His eyes bore into mine as he zipped up the bag.

  "If you kill yourself, I'll never forgive you," he said, shoving the bag into my arms. I had to stop myself from falling back at his force and I gritted my teeth. I wouldn't push back. If I did, I would regret it. Chris and I had only come to fists a handful of times in our lives. I wasn't going to let Avery be the cause of a fight.

  I meant that after my graduation I wouldn't bother coming around much, but it wasn't a crazy stretch for him to come to the conclusion that I would off myself. I was certainly killing myself slowly enough with the drugs and alcohol. Truth is, I didn't have the guts to do it with purpose. Razors and guns would sure be a hell of a lot quicker.

  "Good to know you have so much faith in me, little brother," I said sharply as I slung the bag over my shoulder. He followed me out my bedroom door and down the hall but stopped at the top of the stairs. I practically ran down them to escape him.

  "Whatever. Just remember that I have to be the one to comfort Mom and Dad when you fuck up."

  I turned to face him from the bottom of the steps.

  "And I'm sure Uncle Robert and Aunt Laura enjoy having at least one decent pretend son."

  Chris shook his head in anger and walked down the hallway to his room. I made a hasty exit. The percs couldn't kick in fast enough. I was ready for a good ol' fashioned black out.

  By the time I got to Trevor's house he was already hitting the bottle. A couple Freshman girls were chilling at the kitchen island, sipping on some fruity drinks. A blond and redhead. I saw them around school sometimes. They looked nervous and inexperienced. Probably their first time alone with a guy. Trevor liked that. Not me. There had to be some sort of cut off for my level of depravity. Preferably, I went for Seniors or college girls at the local community college. At the bare minimum they at least had to be a Sophomore with a sexual history. It wasn't that I was against the idea of dating someone younger. But I didn't date, and I was completely against the idea of fucking someone who would cling on in hopes that I would be more. I doubted those girls had ever even seen a dick in pictures, let alone in real life.

  I cracked open a bottle of beer and carried it into the guest room where I put down my bag. The percs were kicking in. I felt a lovely numb feeling. The beer would make it even better.

  "Come hang out, Garrett."

  That meant Trevor wanted me to entertain one of them so he could separate them. I knew his game. For the love! Could I just have two minutes of fucking peace? I wanted to enjoy the high, but I also wanted to keep the accessibility to Trevor's drugs so with a sigh I made my way back into the main part of the house. The girls giggled when I entered the living room. Trevor convinced the red head to sit next to me on the couch and I turned on the TV He had the blond sit on his lap.

  "Are those drinks good? Not too strong I hope."

  He was so full of shit. I wouldn't be surprised if he put several shots in each cup. The girls shook their heads in response to him and I resisted the urge to roll my eyes as I put on some scary movie. He used his phone to turn the lights down low and to push the room into darkness. I avoided the girl next to me even though she stared, until the alcohol had its desired effect and she drifted to sleep. I ignored it when he reached his hand into the other girl's pants and she moaned. I didn't even blink when he pulled her into his room. Even high I wasn't oblivious to her deep groans or to the squeak of the bed. It's simply that I didn't care. I fought the urge to sleep for as long as I could before the percs refused to let my eyes stay open anymore.

  The closet was hot today. I was getting hungry. I knew better than to speak, to ask for more food. A small knock came on the door. Chris. He said my name in a whisper, but I refused to answer. I wouldn't risk it. Someone would hear and I would be punished. At least in the closet I was safe. Chris ran off, I guessed to his bedroom. I fell asleep to the gnawing pain in my stomach.

  My stomach growled the moment I woke
up. My body knew what it was to be hungry. Trevor gave me the full recap on his time with the blond, Jessica, as I ate a granola bar. Not that I wanted to hear it. It earned me another couple percs that I popped without hesitation.

  "I heard Avery was talking to Chris the other day. Jessica said last night that she saw them in the parking lot looking kind of chummy."

  I gritted my teeth at the reminder of my argument with Chris. He clearly had a thing for sticking up for the girl. We never fought. Not like that. Sure, he would give me heat sometimes about my attitude or the way I was treating Laura and Robert, but he never brought up the darker shit. The shit that would lead us both to a physical altercation. That was Avery's fault. Fucking Avery. That would be interesting. Fucking with Avery. I could ruin her. Thoughts of payback flooded my mind.