“You don’t control me!” I snapped. “I will tell him because he deserves to know!”
My mother slapped me again, much harder than the previous time and I stumbled. As I stared at her, the surprised tears rising to my eyes, she pointed at me, her eyes dark and frightening.
“You say one word about this to your father and I will throw you out of this house, do you understand?”
I stared, stunned and shocked. I darted up the stairs to my room, forcing the tears back, feeling angry and betrayed by my mother more than hurt from her physical actions against me. Of course, my face hurt, but even when I went into Mykail’s room later and straddled his lap, kissing him forcefully, and his hands went to my face, my anger was enough to dull the pain.
* *** *
When I went to Clark’s house that Saturday morning, I was still furious. But at least I had patched up the little fight I had with Mykail.
There was nothing makeup could do to cover the light bruise that painted my left cheek, so when Mark greeted me at the door the next morning, he immediately took my chin as soon as he closed the door and turned my head to look at the bruise.
“I’m fine,” I whispered, lightly pushing his hand away. He reached forward again and took my chin, but I pushed his hand away once more, feeling ashamed of the fact that, even if I tried to explain what happened, he would not understand, so I would leave him to worry.
Mark hesitated before dropping his hand, looking defeated. He held up his hand again, telling me to wait, and then walked out of the room. I stood awkwardly in the foyer, not sure if I should wait for Mark to return or if I should try and find Clark in the large house. Even though I had been over many times for dinner, I had never gone upstairs, so I felt that I would be intruding.
As I looked awkwardly around the foyer, a voice startled me.
“Lily!” I turned quickly, frightened by the sudden voice in the quiet house. I saw Clark at the top of the stairs, slowly making his way down. “I was worried you had gotten lost or something.”
“Yeah, sorry, slept in without meaning to,” I groaned, a little nervous that he would see the bruise and ask me what happened. I was not ready to talk about the fight.
“Well, Melody and Cody are already here,” Clark smiled, a light dancing in his eyes. “This is really working, Lily.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, Cody even got us a tour of the Censor Board office,” Clark grinned, walking to me. He opened his mouth to say something, but he also caught sight of my cheek. At first he looked like he was going to ignore it, probably mistaking it for something else, but when he was closer, he confirmed it was a bruise.
“What happened?”
“Don’t worry about it,” I said, dropping my head and looking away.
“No, I’m going to worry about it,” he said sharply, reaching forward, but I backed away. “Who did this to you? Did Dana do this?”
“No,” I said. “I…my mom and I got into a little tiff last night. It’s fine…”
“She hit you?”
“Well, I did tell her to fuck off, so I guess it’s justified…”
“No, it’s not,” Clark shook his head. “Shit, and the Commission meeting is tonight…”
“So?”
“So?” Clark blinked at me. “What are you going to do when Dana sees this?”
My heart stopped. I had not thought about that. Dana had made it clear that he was possessive over me. I still did not know what he did to the boys who attacked me outside Archangel, but they seemed afraid to even look at me now. Even though it was my mother that had hit me, I was not sure Dana would be willing to let the injury slide.
Mark’s sudden re-entry into the foyer broke me out of my stupefied state and I backed away a step when he lifted a hand toward my face. I flinch, closing my eyes, surprised at the sudden cold that pressed against my left cheek. When I opened my eyes, I saw the towel-wrapped icepack he was holding to my bruised face.
I lifted my hand to the icepack as he backed away. Clark smiled at him.
“Thank you, Mark,” he said. Clark turned to me and shook his head with a heavy sigh.
“This might get ugly…”
“I know…”
“Come on.” He motioned for me to follow him. “Let’s go upstairs.”
I followed him to his bedroom, where Melody and Cody were sitting around his desk, arguing over something about the programming. When they saw me, they both greeted me, though they were surprised to see me holding an icepack to my face.
“What happened?” Cody asked after the obligatory greetings were out of the way. I shook my head and rolled my eyes.
“I’m clumsy and ran into a door,” I groaned. “Decided to open the door without stopping to wait for it.”
Clark did not say anything to contradict my story.
I sat on Clark’s bed while the three of them programmed, using a language I would never understand. I looked around Clark’s mostly-bare room, surprised to find it just as cold and staged as the rest of the house. The more time I spent at the Markus’ house the more I began to wonder how much time they really spent at home and how much time they spent in the Commission.
I kept the ice pressed to my face, taking it away when my cheek would get sore from the intense cold, but when it felt warmer, I would press the cool towel to my face, lost in my own thoughts, moving mechanically.
I was not sure how I was going to face my mother again. A big part of me did want to tell my father about the affair she had with Dana, but another part of me was afraid. I wanted him to know, I wanted him to understand how Dana was driving our family apart, and I wanted to save him the pain of finding out some other way. However, in his ignorance, he was happier. I would cause him pain by telling him the truth.
I was also worried that Dana would somehow get involved with my father, as well.
I had to wonder about what this would do to my ability to move forward with the revolution. If my own mother was against me I was in danger of her turning me into the Commission. If she found even the slightest reason, with how angry she was, I was sure that she would turn me over to Dana immediately.
I also thought a lot about Dana and what his reaction to the bruise would be. I considered not telling him the truth and using the same excuse I had told to Melody and Cody. But I was worried that he would still find out, or that I would be unable to lie to his face.
A part of me was concerned that Dana would do something harmful to my mother.
It frightened me when I thought of how I could turn her over to Dana. I felt nearly no sympathy for her and felt a little smug knowing that Dana would punish her if I told him she had hurt me. Granted, I did not entirely understand his frightening possessiveness, and I was not ready to stand back and let him own me, but knowing that I could use my favorable position to get something I wanted made me feel empowered and strong.
But I did not want my mother to suffer. Despite how angry I was at her, she did not deserve to suffer because I was upset. I had to remind myself that it was just a stupid, vengeful idea that might make me feel better for a while. It was not a course of action to follow.
“Sorry, we don’t mean to ignore you,” Melody said over her shoulder, startling me.
“Huh?”
“We’re just kind of ignoring you.”
“No, it’s fine,” I assured, taking a deep breath and slowly letting it out, rolling the now-warm icepack in the towel. “Hey, I’m going to go to the kitchen, do you guys want snacks or anything?”
“Oh, I can get something,” Clark said quickly.
“No, it’s okay,” I said. “I’m going to put the icepack back. I’ll bring something up. Just keep working.”
Before he could protest further, I walked out the door, trying to get my mind off my spiraling thoughts. I made my way to where I knew the kitchen was, though I had never been in before. I pushed the door open and surprised Mark, who whirled around from his spot at the counter.
“Oh
, Mark,” I blinked, also surprised. I was not used to seeing him with his sunglasses on, and I found that I needed to look at his eyes to see what he was thinking and communicate with him more effectively. I felt awkward at his reaction to my entrance, not knowing if I was intruding on something.
We stared silently at one another for a few moments before he walked away from the meat he was cutting and wiped his hands on a towel, walking to me. I motioned to the icepack.
“Thank you,” I said. “I was just going to put it back…”
He reached a hand out and I nervously gave him the icepack. When he turned to put it back in the freezer I looked around the massive kitchen. The more rooms I saw in the Markus’ home, the more I was convinced that it was a movie set. The kitchen was enormous and designed straight out of a magazine, even though it had a colder feeling.
My dilemma now was finding snacks to take up to Clark’s room.
I was startled by a tentative tap on my shoulder. Whirling around, I saw Mark step back, surprised by my sudden movement. I let out a breath, shaking my head.
“Sorry,” I grinned. “Um…” I looked around the kitchen and then back to him, motioning senselessly with my hands. “Do you know where there are some snacks?”
He was silent and still and, even though I could not see the confused look in his eyes, I knew he had no idea what I was trying to say. I sighed and began stupidly motioning again, trying to imitate the motion of eating.
“Snacks? Do you know where they are?” I was beginning to feel very embarrassed, not sure if he would understand my strange gesticulations.
He walked to one of the large pantries at the side of the room, opening the door. I saw several canisters of dried fruit, a few baskets of fresh fruit, and several bags of pretzels, chips, and other snack foods.
“Thank you,” I smiled, stepping forward and looking among the selection. I started grabbing a few of the bags, struggling to hold them all until Mark grabbed a few for me, holding them as I pulled the canisters out as well, even grabbing a few apples. I decided I would put together a plate of snacks to keep myself occupied and away from the computer talk going on upstairs.
I walked to the counter next to where Mark had been cutting up cooked chicken and set some things down, taking the items that Mark had been holding.
“Thank you,” I grinned sheepishly, feeling bad about having him help me when he had been in the middle of something else. I looked around and motioned with my hands to make the shape of a bowl. “Do you know where the bowls are?” I asked without thinking about it.
He led me to another cabinet, opening the doors so I could find seven different sets of bowls. I blinked at the selection and then picked the least fancy one, worried about breaking the nicer china.
I began filling up the bowls as Mark resumed cutting the chicken. I slowly filled the bowls, watching Mark, wondering what exactly he was doing. When he had finished dicing the chicken, he walked to the far end of the counter and bent down, grabbing two dog bowls from the floor and placing them on the counter before retrieving the third. At first, I felt satisfied finally understanding that Mark was feeding the dogs, but then I looked at the chicken and began to wonder what kind of special treatment the dogs got.
It was starting to occur to me that the Markus’ were the stereotypical super-rich family.
I watched Mark place some chicken in each of the bowls before walking to a covered bowl and scooping some cooked wild rice in the dog bowls as well. That was when I could not help but scoff, rolling my eyes before going back to what I was doing.
I finished pouring pretzels and I grabbed a cutting board.
“Knife…” I murmured, glancing around the counter. Mark grabbed one of the knives on his far left, carefully handing it to me. Just before I took it, I noticed Mark tense, hesitating. I looked up at his covered eyes, wondering what he was suddenly so nervous about. He appeared to be staring at me, frightened and still, waiting to see what I would do.
I looked at the knife and then back at him. Maybe knives reminded him of his surgery where Dana had taken his voice, and with the visibility of the scars along his sharp jaw line, I was sure Dana had roughly operated on purpose.
“I’m sorry, Mark…” I whispered, feeling saddened by the thought of Mark strapped to a table and his throat sliced into. I wondered what kind of voice he had, what his laugh sounded like, I wondered if he even remembered what his voice used to sound like.
I carefully took the knife and sliced into the apple, feeling as though I had just frightened Mark. I tried to cut the apple slowly so as not to upset him further.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
The morning had passed quickly and before it was time to get ready for the Commission meeting, the four of us quickly discussed the plan to get the message on the Censor Board computers. Melody said that the message still needed a few hours of programming, which she and Clark would work on after the meeting.
Cody could get us into the Censor Board Wednesday after school for a private tour of up to fifteen people. We decided that we needed to get as many of the Commish Kids as possible on the tour to mask our actions.
Melody and Clark brainstormed how long they would need to put the message on the computer while I tried to keep up with the conversation, failing miserably.
When we had come up with a plan, Melody and Cody hurried home. Just as Clark was turning to me to say goodbye, panic grabbed my chest, a panic that I had been trying to ignore the entire day.
“Can I go to the meeting with you and your family tonight?” I blurted.
Clark blinked, surprised by the sudden request. His mouth that had been open to say something remained that way, confused.
“Um…”
“No, never mind, sorry.”
“No, wait, Lily.” He grabbed my elbow before I could walk off the porch. “It’s not normally done, but…considering…” His eyes fell to my cheek. “Let me ask my dad…”
We walked back into Clark’s house and relief spread through me, though I was still full of apprehension. My father had not seen the bruise, I had not seen my mother since I stormed away, but I had to face them and Dana that night. My stomach was tossing and turning violently in the cavity of my abdomen, threatening to tie my insides into knots.
Clark called his father while I waited anxiously.
The conversation was short and I felt my body relax when Clark nodded to me with a smile before wrapping up the conversation with his father. When he hung up, he turned to me.
“He said it was fine, but we have to let your family know what’s going on,” he said. “I’ll call your mom,” he assured when he saw me tense.
I was thankful that Clark was such a good friend. I knew I would have to face my mother and father eventually and there was no way to avoid them at the Commission meeting, but I wanted to entertain the idea that I could put off the confrontation.
“Do you want to tell me what you got into a fight with your mother about?” Clark asked, sitting in his desk chair as I sat on the bed. I sighed and rolled my eyes, rubbing my forehead tiredly.
“About Dana,” I said. “About how I saw her with him and I was going to tell my dad…”
“Why would you say that?” Clark whispered. “Dana has a hold over people. They are defensive and protective and completely under his control.”
“I know,” I whispered, sighing heavily and shaking my head, forcing the tears away. “I just…I wanted to see if I had really lost her to him…”
Clark lowered his eyes and remained silent for a long time.
“She hates me…” I said, the tears overtaking me. I cleared my throat and shook my head, trying to calm down. “And I hate her…but…” I closed my eyes and pinched the bridge of my nose. “She said that she’s wished that she hadn’t married my dad, that she hadn’t had me…” I sniffed, my voice getting weak. “How can she even think that?” I barely managed to choke out.
Clark walked over and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, sitt
ing next to me.
“It’s not like that,” he assured. “It’s not. My mom says the same things sometimes, but I just remember that it’s Dana talking, not her.”
“It’s not Dana,” I snapped angrily, pushing my tears away with the heels of my hands. “She said that on her own.”
“To Dana,” Clark told me. “Not to you. Have you ever just watched Dana with people? He brings things out in them that you would never have thought existed. That is his power.” Clark’s hand tightened on my shoulder. “I’m sure your mother loves you. Dana’s gotten into her head and he’s rattled everything around, but she still loves you. You’re her daughter.”
“But Dana will always be there,” I whispered. “She’ll never escape him…I’ve lost her…”
Clark pulled me into a hug.
I had no appetite for dinner, and while they both didn’t say anything, it was obvious that Clark, who was sitting next to me, and Mark, who was standing by the door to the kitchen, were worried, studying the way I was playing with my food.
I told the Markus family that I was just not hungry because I had eaten so many snacks through the day. Only Clark knew I had not touched food at all.
As Mark was driving us to the Commission meeting, I felt the butterflies rise from my stomach to my throat. I had no idea what I was going to say to Dana. I was hoping that he would not be at the meeting. He had been distracted and busy the last few weeks, so it was possible that he was not going to see me at all. However, even if I managed to avoid him that night, I could see him on Monday, and I did not know if the bruise would disappear in time.
I don’t know where Mark went, but since we were so early for the meeting, he slipped away while Clark’s mother continued to set up for the meeting with the help of her husband and another of Dana’s advisors.
“I didn’t realize you got here this early,” I noted.
“Yeah,” Clark sighed. “We do get here pretty early…” He looked around and shrugged. “You can just chill. We don’t need to do anything.”
I did just that. I sat at my normal spot and picked at the lint on the table cloth. I was tired and wanted nothing more than to sleep and deal with all of this some other day. I wanted to curl up and feel Mykail’s arms around me, the feathers of his wing brushing my neck…I wanted to feel safe.
Inside, Pt. 2 Page 10