The Damned

by Jennifer Snyder

  COLE

  New school. New town. New life. This should have been a picture-perfect, rainbow and sunshine type of day, but it was nowhere near that. I’d gotten lost in the big ass school more times than I could count and had the label of new guy tattooed on my fucking forehead the entire day. Reaching into my front pocket, I pulled out my pack of menthols and a lighter. After plucking one out, I lit it and started across the little roundabout in front of the school.

  Even though I had technically been in Baycrest for a little over three weeks, none of that seemed to matter today, not even when it came to Emory. It wasn’t as though we were an item. I mean I pretty much only saw her at night when she decided to climb out her bedroom window and stare up at the stars. Even still, I had foolishly thought she would have at least acknowledged me at school—you know, shown me the ropes. Maybe pointed me in the direction of all the other skaters and losers like me, but she hadn’t.

  Taking another drag off my cigarette, I stepped off the final curb in front of the school and headed to Nick and Julie’s place. There was no way I was thinking of it as home anytime soon. While I was grateful they took me in, it still didn’t change the fact that I didn’t want to fucking be there. I didn’t want to be here, in Baycrest, period. I hadn’t wanted anything new; the old was fine with me. Old school. Old town. Old life. That was what I wanted back. While it hadn’t been all rainbows and sunshine there either, it had been what I was used to.

  This place was not for me. Even the handful of skaters who seemed to dress in a similar fashion as me had been cliquish and unwelcoming. Where I was from, they were at least down to welcome another misfit without judgment. Not these skaters. I wondered if they even skated. Maybe it was a fashion phase targeted to piss their parents off.

  Sunshine beat down on me as I continued in the direction of Julie’s. A slight breeze grazed my skin as Emory’s black Mini Copper surged past me. I scoffed after her. I’d been horribly wrong about her after all. She wasn’t down for a rebellious fuck. She wasn’t down for anything when it came to me. The one day at the park with her had been about as random as they came. The second her mother saw me, everything that ever could have been between us—friendship or otherwise—died.

  This bothered me more than I could put into words.

  By the time I made it to Nick and Julie’s place, Emory was already backing out of her driveway. I wondered where she was headed in such a hurry, but then remembered all her gymnastics stuff. She locked eyes with me for a brief moment, and I swore there was a slight twist of her lips that could only be classified as a smile, but she was gone before I could analyze it.

  I watched her car disappear around the corner before I stepped inside Julie’s place. Nick’s truck had been parked in the driveway, but I didn’t see him when I walked through the door. The sound of his guitar could be heard loud and clear though, so I knew he was home. I let my book bag slip off my shoulder and drop to the floor before I walked through the house to find him.

  Nick had some talent when it came to playing the guitar, but I doubted he would ever pursue anything with it. He wasn’t the type to be in a band or perform for a crowd. He was laid back and played either out of sheer boredom or because he felt the urge to.

  It was a hobby and nothing more.

  Following the music brought me to the one place I was planning to go anyway—the kitchen. I was starved and I could use something to drink after the long walk home in the blazing afternoon sun. Nick stopped playing the second I stepped across the threshold.

  “Don’t stop on my account. I just need something to drink and eat. I’ll be out of your hair in just a second,” I insisted.

  “Ah, it’s all right.” Nick laid the guitar across his lap and eyed me. “How was your first day at Baycrest High? Was it everything you hoped and dreamed it would be?”

  Reaching into the cabinet where Julie kept all the crap food, I chuckled. “Oh yeah, I might as well have tattooed new guy on my forehead, because the confusion on everyone’s face at the sight of me was clearly palpable.”

  “Couldn’t have been that bad though. This place is the happiness Mecca.” He grinned and drummed his fingers against the base of his guitar as though the song he had been playing wasn’t fully out of his head yet. “These people are drunk off sunshine and happiness day in and day out.”

  I frowned as I opened the blueberry Pop-Tart I’d snagged from in the cabinet. While the teenagers might have been considered snobbish or even downright standoffish, most of the adults were freakishly happy. “I have yet to see why that is.”

  “First, you’d better hope that isn’t the last Pop-Tart, or your sister will kick your ass.” Nick pointed to my hand. “And second, come to my next job with me. I’ll show you why they’re all so drunk on sunshine and happiness.”

  “Job? I don’t think so.” There was no way I was helping him wash a fucking boat.

  “What else are you going to do? Sit in your room and stare out the damn window like a little creeper at the girl next door while you smoke a cigarette, same as you have since day one?”

  How the hell did he know that? Maybe he and my sister weren’t as oblivious to me as I thought. Ugh, when had they become so parentally observant? It was weird to have someone notice things about me like that.

  Leaning into the fridge, I grabbed a soda and popped the top. “Exactly. You can see I have plans later—ones that don’t involve the term work.”

  Nick stood and carefully set his guitar in the corner. “Come on, you haven’t seen the ocean up close and personal yet, and you’ve been here almost a month.”

  “Your point?”

  “You might enjoy a little sunshine and the view of the ocean, if you took the time to look.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t know. It’s insanely hot out.”

  “So take off your damn long-sleeved shirt and put on a T-shirt or something. You’ll be fine. Hell, I’ll even give you the money to rent a board and catch some waves, if you want.”

  Surfing, that was something I had never done, but had always wanted to. Why hadn’t I thought about it since moving here?

  “All right, I’ll come.” I slurped more of my soda and finished my Pop-Tart.

  Maybe I wouldn’t be riding any waves today, but at least I could scope the area out, so I would be able to find my way back later this week. And Nick was right, I didn’t have anything better to do.

  * * * *

  The ocean breeze was insane. I had thought it would be scorching hot even by the water, but it wasn’t. The breeze off the sea was just enough to cool me completely. It was like standing in front of a fan blowing on high speed from all directions.

  “Grab the towels from the back, will you?” Nick asked.

  He’d parked his truck as close as he could to a dock that stretched out into the ocean. At the end was a large white and blue boat that I assumed was his job for the night. Leaning into the backseat of his truck, I snatched up the rags he had called towels. Clutching them in my hand, I slammed the truck door shut and started toward the dock. The flip-flops I was wearing slapped against the rough wood of the pier. They weren’t mine; they were Nick’s. I rarely ever wore sandals. My shoe options ranged from a scuffed up pair of Converse sneakers and some banged up Vans purposely. Skater shoes, those were my favorite for both comfort and style. These scraps, considered shoes by my now beach-bum brother-in-law were not in my comfort zone, but it was better to wear these and get them soaked than a pair of my own.

  “Come aboard.” Nick smiled from beside the boat.

  My eyes skimmed across the length of it before me. It was larger than I had initially thought. Nick looked at ease as he stretched his leg over and climbed into the thing. It rocked slightly and I fought back the uneasy sensation building in my chest at the sight. I had never been on a boat before. Fighting against my sudden onslaught of nerves, I copied Nick’s moves and climbed aboard as gracefully as I could manage.

  “So, what do you think?” Nick set th
e bucket of cleaners he had been holding on one of the blue leather seats. He placed his hands on his hips, and glanced out at the never-ending sea before us.

  I followed his stare, taking in the way the sky and ocean seemed to blend at the horizon. The large waves crashing toward the shore caught my attention next. There weren’t too many people surfing, but Nick assured me that, the darker it got out, the more people I would see. This hadn’t made any sense to me. I figured a person would want to go surfing in the daytime, when they were able to see if a shark was tailing them, but apparently not. People didn’t fear sharks as much as I had assumed. They only wanted to catch the best waves, and from what Nick had said, the best time to do so was either first thing in the morning or late at night.

  “It’s nice.” I shrugged.

  “Nice? What the hell kind of answer is that?” Nick shifted to glance at me, and narrowed his eyes. “It’s the fucking ocean, Cole. Nice doesn’t even cover it.”

  I inhaled, and a small smirk made its way onto my face. He was right. There was nothing nice about this place; it was freaking spectacular. However, I couldn’t jump right out and say so. It wasn’t me, regardless of how crazy beautiful the scenery was.

  He chucked a sponge at me. “Here, get to work.”

  I caught the sponge midair and twirled it in my hand. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

  “Wipe down all the leather seats with it and this spray.” He handed me a white bottle of some leather cleaner.

  Without arguing, I turned and began cleaning the seats for him. Who knew, maybe he would pay me for it? Having some money would be nice.

  About halfway through the cleaning process, I was soaked to the bone with both sweat and sticky from the saltwater breeze. Never in my life had I worked so damn hard. I was positive I would be sleeping like a baby tonight and sore as shit tomorrow—and sunburnt. I’d be fucking sunburnt all to hell too, because I’d forgotten, like a dumbass, to wear sunblock.

  Unable to handle the heat any longer, I tugged my sopping wet shirt off and flung it onto the dock. The cool ocean breeze met my damp skin, instantly cooling me.

  “Ha, I wondered when you’d give into the heat and take that damn long-sleeved shirt off. Who wears that in the middle of August at the beach? Maybe that’s why all the kids at school were staring at you so weird.” Nick grinned.

  “What the fuck ever, man.” I attempted to grumble the words at him, but the slow smile forming on my face made it hard to get the words out right.

  Nick walked over and switched out the cleaners he had been using for something else. I went back to the task I had been assigned, enjoying the cool brush of ocean air against my skin.

  “What happened to you?”

  His question made me pause in my motions. My heart stopped, and I suddenly found it hard to swallow, because I realized Nick had seen my scars.

  “What do you mean?” I played dumb.

  Nick moved to stand in front of me, so he could take in the full view of my mutilated body.

  “Holy shit, Cole.” There was so much emotion attached to his words they sounded strangled coming from him. “Did you do all that to yourself?”

  There was no way I was answering him. Dropping the rag I had been using to wipe along the inside of the windshield, I started toward the edge of the boat, ready to hop off, scoop up my wet shirt, and walk back to his place.

  “Where are you going? You’re not walking back by yourself,” Nick shouted after me.

  Who the hell did he think he was all the sudden, my dad? I didn’t pause in my steps. He wasn’t going to tell me what to do.

  “Cole, I said you’re not walking back. It’s too far and you’ve been out in the heat for the last three hours,” he insisted. The sound of him crossing the boat after me met my ears. “What happened?”

  I hopped off the edge of the boat and walked to where I’d tossed my shirt. I picked it up without looking back at Nick, or acknowledging him in even the slightest way. He was off the boat and gripping my shoulder faster than I’d ever anticipated he would be.

  “Stop! Just fucking stop, all right?” Nick shouted.

  His eyes blazed with fury, but I was sure mine matched his perfectly. I didn’t like being told what to do, but most of all, I didn’t like anyone knowing about my scars.

  “Get in the truck. Let me drive you home.”

  I shook off his grip. “Fine.”

  Heading past him, I climbed into the passenger seat and slammed the door shut. I pulled on my wet shirt and leaned back against the seat with my arms crossed over my chest and my jaw set. Nick climbed in the driver’s seat and cranked the engine of his truck. From the corner of my eye, I could see his jaw clenching and unclenching. He was pissed, either at the way the situation had unfolded or at me. I wasn’t sure, and I damn sure didn’t care which it was either.

  The ride from the dock back to his place was completely silent; he had even switched off the radio. Once we turned into his driveway, all of that silence shattered when he opened his mouth.

  “You need to tell me what the hell those marks are from.” His tone was serious, controlled, but serious.

  “I don’t have to tell you shit.” I smirked and climbed out. I was beyond the point of being pissed. Now, I just found the entire situation funny.

  Why would he even care? The things that I did didn’t affect him in any way. I wasn’t his responsibility, and he was only connected to me by marriage.

  Nick followed me into the house, slamming the front door shut behind him. Julie was sitting on the couch, watching TV when we came crashing in.

  “What’s going on?” She obviously had taken notice to both of our demeanors. “Did something happen at the dock?”

  Nick smoothed a hand over his shaved head and sighed. “Yeah, it did.”

  I didn’t wait around for him to fill her in. I snatched up my backpack and darted up the stairs. I wasn’t hanging around while they talked about me like I wasn’t in the room.

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  EMORY

  I had avoided him. Not particularly because my mom insisted that I should, but because of how reckless and wild I felt when I was around him. At this point in my life, I couldn’t afford to feel that way. It would ruin the things I had worked hard for.

  He would turn me into Chelsea before he was finished with me, and I just couldn’t have that.

  The image of him standing at the end of my driveway as I backed out on my way to the gym was still burned into my memory. He’d looked beaten down, disappointed. Maybe his first day hadn’t been as wonderful as he thought it would be. Was Baycrest not welcoming enough for him? This thought sent tendrils of guilt sweeping through me. I had assumed he would fit right in with the stoner, skater type. Shaking my head, I scolded myself for lumping him into that category based on the way he dressed and his chosen hobby.

  Sure, he smoked cigarettes, but that didn’t mean he smoked pot or did anything else of that nature. My mother’s influence reached farther than I had thought.

  My cell chimed with a text from in my cup holder. I didn’t bother to glance at it. Not only was I completely against texting while driving, but I already knew who it would be without having to look. Tara had been trying to console me all day, as if I needed her to.

  Sam was back with Mallory. I wasn’t as surprised by this as I thought I would be.

  After I had canceled our night time meeting a few weeks ago, I hadn’t heard from him again. It was a classic case of my theory on guys and relationships proving to be right. Tara didn’t agree and claimed it was a coincidence. She said I shouldn’t think too much about it, that obviously Sam wasn’t smart enough to realize a good thing when he had it dangling in front of his face. I loved her, but her trying to spin this a million different ways to make me feel better about being tossed to the side, again, was grating on my nerves.

  Turning onto North Shore Road, I felt a sense of calm wash over me for the first time all day. With Sam out of the picture and scho
ol starting again, I was back into my old rhythm. Being back in school was horrible to the majority of my peers, but to me it was a wanted and much-needed break from my mother’s watchful eye. It was a chance to finally breathe for a few hours a day without her hovering over me, filling every free second with some tediously mundane task she could do herself, but wouldn’t.

  School for me meant freedom.

  Pulling into Ignite, I took the parking space by the front doors and cut my engine. I grabbed all my stuff from the passenger seat and headed toward the entrance. Once I stepped inside, the familiar smells of the place overtook me. Blissfully normal. That was what my life was getting back to being, and I loved it.

  “Hey, how was the first day back?” Karen adjusted one side of the balance beams and stared at me with her usual wide, friendly smile.

  “Not too bad.” I walked to her and set my bag on the floor. “Are we working on a beam routine today?”

  I hated the beam. I was better on the uneven bars, but best on the mat overall.

  “Yeah, I think we should branch out some today.” Karen nodded. “Practice your weak spots.”

  My stomach twisted with nerves. Already I felt as though I was set up to fail in her eyes during this practice session.

  “First, let’s weigh in for the week,” she suggested.

  A sense of giddiness inflated my chest at her words. This had become my favorite part of the week, checking my weight. It was exciting to see it dropping, knowing that it was because of the things I had done, the control I had over myself and what I ate.

  During the last few weeks, I’d almost managed to lose the entire five pounds Karen had wanted me to. It was coming off easier than I had anticipated. First, I cut out all sugar. When that hadn’t given me the results I hoped for, I cut out all bread and pasta. While that had been the key to losing the few more pounds I wanted to, it had also garnered my mother’s attention. I told her I was attempting to cut down on my gluten intake without going cold turkey. My excuse had been accepted without more questions.