by Gemma Weir
We’re all sat in the basement at Nova and Zeke’s house playing a computer game, but I’m barely going through the motions. I’m still waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the guys to punch me out again, or for Nova’s dad to come barreling downstairs to finally kick my ass the way he’s been threatening to.
Both he and her mom were here when we got back from school and I didn’t miss the barely disguised hostility behind Echo’s eyes or the look of concern her mom flashed my way. Nova hustled me downstairs the moment we got through the door, but Zeke and Griffin stayed upstairs, eventually coming to the basement ten minutes later.
Nova and Emmy are kicking our asses at the game, but I’m finding it hard to concentrate. When the door to the basement pushes open, I know who it’s going to be before he even speaks a word. “Valentine, could I talk to you for a minute?”
“Daddy,” Nova interrupts.
“Don’t worry, Princess,” Echo replies, a loving smile etched across his face when he looks at his daughter.
I pass the controller to Griffin and rise from the couch, passing through the basement door Echo is holding open for me and climb the stairs. The death march starts to play in my head and I tense, waiting for whatever is about to come my way.
When I push into the kitchen, I expect it to be empty, but Liv is sat at the dining table and when our eyes meet, she gestures for me to take a seat. I sit on the edge of the chair, placing my hands on my knees, then lift them to rest on the edge of the table, only to pull them down again.
“I don’t like you,” Echo growls.
I nod. “I get that,” I say, feeling like I need to acknowledge his words, but not wanting to sound like a jackass.
“You hurt my daughter and my son.”
My head snaps up, surprised that he thinks I hurt Zeke too.
“Zeke thought you were a friend,” Liv explains quietly.
Exhaling, I nod, my chin dropping lower when I realize that I still haven’t apologized to him or Griffin.
“The boys told me what you did today; how you were there for Nova. How you stood up to some punk ass kid who made a comment. How you pulled her out of her head when she was struggling.”
I nod, but don’t say anything. What is there to say? I didn’t do anything today other than be with her and that was as much for me as it was her. I’m more settled when I’m near her than I am at any other time. I’m addicted to her and I’m not the type of man who can resist temptation.
“You got anything to say for yourself, kid?”
The snap of Echo’s voice makes me lift my head and face him. “I’m an asshole. The last few years have been shitty, and honestly, I’m pretty pissed at the world. I have some issues and because I’m a coward, instead of facing them I pushed all of my bullshit onto your daughter. She shouldn’t forgive me, but I really fucking want her to. I’m selfish and angry and messed up, but she makes me want things that I haven’t even imagined were possible in so fucking long. Princess makes me want home and love and all that sappy bullshit that I haven’t known her long enough to be thinking about. I will do whatever she needs, change to be whoever she needs me to be, so I can deserve her forgiveness. But I don’t know how long that’s going to take. I’m here until at least graduation, unless I fuck up and get sent away, but I’m gonna try to make sure that doesn’t happen. I know you hate me; you have every right to. But please let me earn your daughter’s forgiveness before you kill me.”
A startled gasp sounds from behind us and my head snaps in that direction only to find Nova stood against the basement door, her hand covering her mouth.
I stand, intent on going to her, but then I realize that her dad is still here at the table with me, and he can throw me out or kick my ass before I can even reach her.
“That was some speech, kid. I’m not going to kill you, not today anyway. Go.” He gestures in Nova’s direction and I dart across the room, pulling up just in front of her. I don’t touch her, even though I want to pull her into my arms. Instead, I brush my knuckle along her cheek.
“I’m so fucking sorry,” I whisper, needing her to know, but unsure if her parents are still in the room.
“I don’t forgive you,” she whispers back, rising onto her tiptoes and pausing, her lips only a hairs breadth from mine. “Yet.”
Then she closes the distance between us and presses her mouth to mine.
I stay for a couple more hours and Liv even somewhat reluctantly invites me to stay for dinner, but I politely decline. I don’t want to outstay any tenuous welcome I grudgingly gained today.
My cell beeps as I’m walking the short distance between Nova’s house, and Brandi and Sleaze’s.
Nova: Thank you for today.
Me: I didn’t do anything.
Nova: You did, so just accept my thanks and shut up.
I chuckle and quickly type out a reply.
Me: Yes, Ma’am.
Nova: See you tomorrow.
Me: Night, Princess.
Nova: Night, Valentine xo
I stare at the xo for longer than I should. Apparently, I just became a prepubescent teenage girl because the urge to squeal and jump up and down with excitement is incredibly strong. There’s a bounce in my step and as I push through the door and into Brandi and Sleaze’s house there’s a smile on my face.
It disappears when I spot Tricia sitting on the couch.
“Hello, Valentine,” she says, her face troubled and full of concern.
I don’t speak, my gaze moving to Brandi and then Sleaze. Betrayal consumes me. I believed them. They told me they weren’t kicking me out and I stupidly believed them, only it was all bullshit. Of course it was. I hurt their niece, why would they keep me?
A bitter scoff escapes my throat and I shake my head, amused by my own stupidity. I should have seen this coming, but when Brandi told me this was my home until graduation or forever, I’d thought it was more than just words.
“How long do I have to pack my stuff up? I need to get my cell back from Puck before I go.” I say, barely even recognizing the sound of my own voice.
“I have your cell.” Sleaze says.
I nod, pressing my lips tightly together.
“But you’re not packing anything.”
“Don’t worry, I won’t take anything I didn’t bring with me,” I hiss angrily.
Sleaze gets up and is in front of me a moment later. I don’t think he’s going to hit me, but I still flinch when he lifts his hands into the air.
His eyes widen at my flinch and he slows his movement as his hands lift and clamp onto either side of my face, forcing me to look at him. “This isn’t what you think, kid,” he says, his voice low and rough.
I close my eyes, not willing to show him how close I am to tears. This is the only place I haven’t wanted to leave. “It’s fine,” I force out between tight lips.
“I don’t know what’s going on in your head right now, Valentine, but I need you to look at me for a minute, okay?”
I bite at the inside of my cheek hard enough to break the skin.
“Valentine,” Sleaze growls.
My eyes slowly open and when I look up, his gaze is locked on mine. “You are not going anywhere. This is your home. We are not sending you away.”
Each of his words are slow and measured as if he wants to make sure that what he’s saying can’t be misunderstood or misinterpreted.
“Then what’s she doing here?” I ask. I want to believe him, but there’s only one reason a social worker would come here; either they want rid of me, or she’s taking me.
“We want you here. We are not throwing you away, kid. Do you hear me?”
His words make it hard to swallow and I know my eyes are full of tears. They aren’t throwing me away. Does he know the significance of those words?
He uses his thumbs to brush away the tears that escape my eyes, but his grip on my face doesn’t loosen. “Family isn’t about blood, it’s about choice. I am choosing you; we are choosing you.”
“You don’t even know me,” I choke out.
“I know enough,” Sleaze rasps and he pulls me to him, hugging me.
I let him hold me, gripping his back as belief in his words starts to sink in. When he releases me, I clear my throat and wipe away the rest of the tears from my face with the back of my hand. Looking at Brandi, I see there are tears in her eyes too, and she’s on the edge of her seat, her hands gripped tightly together in her lap.
“Why is she here?” I ask Sleaze, not willing to look at Tricia yet.
“She wants to talk to you, that’s all.”
“I don’t want to talk to her. If she’s not here to take me, then she’s got nothing I want to hear.”
Turning, I move to leave, needing to get away, to try to process everything Sleaze said and the realization that I could make this home, something I haven’t had in almost three years.
“Your mom wants to see you.”
Tricia’s words make everything around me crumble to dust and for a second I can’t breathe. All hope; all that bright, warm hope shatters at the single utter of the word ‘mom’.
I try to walk away, but my feet won’t move. I’m only a couple of strides from the stairs, but I’m rooted to the spot, frozen by the reminder of the woman who gave me up.
“Why?” The sound is guttural and broken.
“She’s been in a facility for the last eighteen months. She just got released last week and she contacted the case worker who collected you from your home three years ago.”
“Is she dying?” I ask.
“No.”
“Then I have nothing to say to her.” In a rush, my muscles all start to work again, and I run. Up the stairs and into my room. I slam the door behind me and lean against it, like my weight can keep out the mess I just left behind.
I can hear muffled voices coming from downstairs, but the words are imperceptible, until Sleazes roars, “Tell her to go to hell.”
With that I rush to the bathroom and turn on the shower, stepping under the spray fully dressed and letting the noise of the water block out the argument downstairs. By the time I turn off the shower, the water is stone-cold and enough time has passed that hopefully Tricia will have left.
Barely aware of my movements, I strip out of my wet stuff, leaving it in the bottom of the shower. I dry off and pull on some of the clothes Brandi bought for me from the closet.
Visons of my mom, her face, the way she refused to even look at me as I was dragged away by a complete stranger, flash through my mind and I try to force them away. I don’t want to think about her. She wants to see me? What a fucking joke. I needed her three years ago when I was scared and alone. I needed her two years ago when I found out that Bella had used me and manipulated me and that I was an idiot. I’ve needed her every day in between that, when I missed my parents, when I missed being loved and wanted.
But she wasn’t there for any of those times and she doesn’t get to step back into my life now. A bitter laugh bubbles up from my throat. Maybe she finally realized she’s been paying my cell phone bill for the last three years. Or maybe she’s gone broke and she wants the trust fund I’ll gain access to in a few short months.
A knock on my door pulls me from my melancholy thoughts. “Yeah?” I call.
“Can I come in?” Sleaze asks from the other side.
Pushing myself up from the bed, I pad to the door and open it, stepping back so Sleaze can come in.
“You okay?”
I shake my head. “No.”
He nods, watching as I sit down on the edge of the bed, then sinking down next to me. “I’m sorry.”
“What for?”
“We should never have let her stay. We didn’t think you’d react like that; we never even considered you’d think we were sending you away.”
“It’s okay,” I say, looking at my fingers to avoid seeing the expression on his face.
“No, it’s not. Brandi, she’s… well, she’s fucking heartbroken. We are both so fucking sorry, kid.”
I nod, but my throat is too tight for me to speak.
“I know you haven’t been here for very long, but this is your home now. What happened today will never happen again. If she has to come here for any reason, one of us will give you the heads up so you’re not blindsided. We never want you to doubt how much we want you here.”
“Okay,” I say forcing the word out.
“Your mom,” Sleaze starts, but I shake my head, standing and backing away from him.
“I get it,” he says. “Another time.”
I nod, needing to do something to get him to stop talking.
“Brandi’s ordering pizza for dinner, why don’t you see if Nova wants to join us?” Sleaze asks.
“Maybe another day, okay?” I’d love to have her here, to lose myself in her, but I can’t pile anymore of my issues on Nova, it’s not fair.
Sleaze nods, then stands and leaves. When he closes the door behind him, I bury my head in my hands and tug at my hair until all I can feel is the pain. For a moment I let myself bask in the oblivion it allows me, but I stop before I start to enjoy the sensation too much.
Today went from being so good, to so bad in the blink of an eye and I have no idea what to do. It’s like my mom knew I was starting to reclaim some kind of happiness and she swept in to ruin it all over again.
No matter how much I wrack my brain, I can’t think of any reason why she would want to reach out to me now. Tricia said something about her being in treatment, but I can barely remember what she said. I stopped listening at the first mention of the woman that threw me away.
I don’t go down and eat dinner with the others; I can’t face it, so instead I climb onto the bed and close my eyes, hoping that when I open them again, everything that happened after I walked into this house this afternoon will have been a bad dream.
When I wake up the next morning, everything comes back to me in a rush the moment I open my eyes. Thinking Tricia was here to take me, the desolation I felt at the thought of having to leave. The hope that came with Sleaze’s assurances, then the heartbreaking pain that came with Tricia’s words.
‘Your mom wants to see you.’
I wonder if she knew what reaction I’d have at being told she wanted to see me? I wonder if my mother—the woman that gave birth to me and raised me for the first fifteen years of my life—realizes that I hate her so violently with every single fiber of my being? I wonder if she cares?
She didn’t care when she pushed me out of her life, not even glancing back before she turned her back on me. Whatever’s changed now, I can’t believe that she cares any more now than she did back then.
Dutifully, I get out of bed and get dressed, pulling out more of the new clothes and removing the tags. Brandi has added even more stuff in the month that I’ve lived here, things more in keeping with my other clothes, and I wear them today as a silent ‘thank you’ to her. I don’t have the words to thank her for not kicking me out, so I’m hoping she’ll see me in the clothes she bought and understand my silent message.
Today I feel numb and that’s the best I can hope for. I’d much rather deal with numb than the pain I felt last night. When I walk into the kitchen, Brandi spots me and comes rushing forward, skidding to a stop a foot from me.
“Valentine,” she gasps. “I’m—”
“It’s fine,” I say interrupting her.
Her eyes are filled with emotion and for the first time I notice how small she is. Since I came here, I’ve made little to no effort to get to know the woman who has welcomed me into her home. From day one, Brandi has accepted my silence and never judged; she’s supported me and tried to make me a part of the family all while I pretended she didn’t exist.
I swallow. “I’m sorry, I thought this would be just another place to sleep. I didn’t… I wasn’t expecting…”
“Just hug her,” a small voice calls from the table.
Both Brandi and I turn to look, and Callum smiles widely back at us, both
of his thumbs in the air. We laugh. “Good advice, little man,” I call, then I awkwardly lean forward and give Brandi a one-armed hug.
She clings to me for a moment and I hear her sniffle before I pull away, clearing my throat.
“You need some work on your hugs, but it was a good first try,” she says, winking at me.
“Yeah, don’t get used to it. I’m not a hugger.” Walking past her, I sit down next to Callum and reach for a bowl, filling it with cereal, hoping that the familiar domestic action will diffuse the awkward sentimental moment. I eat quickly, then stand up, loading my bowl into the dishwasher on my way out.
“You don’t need to rush,” Brandi calls.
“I gotta get the bus.”
“Liv said the kids were coming to get you; did they not mention anything to you?”
Pulling my cell from my pocket, I see several notifications in the group chat and immediately click into it.
Zeke: Did my dad punch you?
Griffin: Dude, has he killed you?
Zeke: I looked, but there are no bloodstains on the kitchen floor, so either you’re alive or Mom did a good job of cleaning the crime scene.
Nova: You guys are dicks. I told you, Dad didn’t do anything.
Zeke: Valentine?
Griffin: Dude??
Nova: Valentine??
Most of the messages are from after I passed out last night. Thank fuck my cell wasn’t in my pocket when I decided to shower in my clothes.
There’s a missed call from Nova and several other texts.
Zeke: I still think you’re a dick, but if Nova can tolerate you, then I suppose I can too. We’ll swing by and pick you up in the morning.
There’s another from Griffin.
Griffin: You do anything to hurt her again and I’ll fucking kill you, but for now we’re good.
Then finally three messages from Nova
Nova: Why aren’t you replying to the messages in the group chat?
Nova: Are you okay?
Nova: If this is all some fucked up game to mess with me some more I will let the club kill you. Emmy’s dad used to do that; he can kill you then get rid of your body where no one will ever find it.