by R. J. Lewis
Shudder.
I had nobody to confide in but Aston, and that was a cruel twist of fate. I spent many days after that night locked up inside my bedroom when I came back from school.
And don’t get me started on school.
With a couple weeks left, nobody (including the teachers) gave a fuck about anything. In our misery, we were all waiting for it to be over. Except I was dreading summer now that Aston and me were at odds.
He didn’t join Cindy and me at lunch on the days he was out of the library. He was either keeping his distance knowing it was what I needed, or this was another form of rejection. Either way, it stung me deeply.
He sat one table behind us with his friends, always directly in view of me. He ate and watched me between bites, studying me so deeply, it was like being stripped bare time and time again. I was so red and uncomfortable by it, I’d get up and leave with minutes to spare.
I’d walk the halls alone, never realizing Aston would trail me sometimes. I didn’t know about it until one day I opened my locker and pulled out a chocolate bar from my stash.
“You got a couple weeks left,” I heard Deck’s voice say behind me. “Then your bodyguard will be gone, and you’ll be Elise without the genius prick.”
I turned around to face him, taking a huge chunk of the Mars bar into my mouth. Chocolate was the best aid in healing a broken heart. At this rate, I’d be fifty pounds heavier by next year, and maybe this dickhead would leave me the hell alone.
On his own, he stood in front of me, arms crossed over his preppy little polo shirt. Cocky little shit. He thought just because he had gotten a little bigger and was on the basketball team that he was suddenly all that.
“Are you seriously still sore about my rejecting you?” I asked him.
His pimply face darkened. “You didn’t fucking reject me, slut. You wanted it.”
“So why did I kick you in the balls then?”
“Because you’re a fucking tease.”
“Hmm.” I nodded casually and chewed. “You know what I think, Deck? I think there’s an inner-rapist in you that’s still sore you didn’t get to screw me against my will. And now your cock’s ego is still so wounded, you’re going to threaten to rape me because the man that broke your leg won’t be around to fuck you up again.”
Deck’s eyes widened. “What the fuck did you just say?”
I smirked. “Oh, shit, you didn’t relate the two instances? You’re fucking thick, aren’t you –”
He shoved me harshly into the locker, and pain skyrocketed up my spine. He leaned into me, his beady eyes digging into my own as he growled, “A few more months, Elise, and you’re going to get it, you teasing little – Ahh!” His head whipped back abruptly, and then a hand wrapped around the front of his neck.
I let out a shaky breath as I watched Aston drag him a few feet away from me, squeezing at his neck until his face went crimson. He stopped and leaned his mouth to Deck’s ear and said something in it. Something that made Deck’s eyes widen in fear.
“Say it,” Aston gritted, shaking him like a ragdoll.
“I’m sorry,” Deck whimpered out to me. “I won’t talk to you again. I promise. I’ll never say a word.”
Then Aston let him go and Deck hurried away, ignoring the eyes of the few students around who had watched the altercation. All the nosey bastards needed was popcorn and a Michael Jackson cut-out and the scene would have been perfect.
Aston walked over to me and lightly touched my arm. “Are you alright?” he asked, worried.
I nodded once, looking down at my feet. “I’m alright.”
His hold on my arm tightened. “He won’t bother you again.”
“What did you tell him?”
He pressed his lips down hard and then shook his head. “It doesn’t matter.”
I crossed my arms and searched for a response. I supposed this was the perfect moment to thank him, but then again, his rejection came to light, and I felt hot with anger. I had to do it, though. It wouldn’t be right not to.
Still staring at my feet, I said very quietly, “Thanks.”
“What was that?”
I cleared my throat and whispered again, “Thanks.”
“I can’t hear you.”
I rolled my eyes at the smirk I heard in his voice and looked up at him with hard eyes. “I said thanks, Aston, don’t make me say it again.”
He nodded, suppressing a smile. “You’re welcome, Elise. Anything for you.”
Anything for you. Really? Because if it was anything for me, that tongue would be back in my mouth again. But no, I was his sister.
I glowered, bitter from my thoughts, angry at him and his anything for you bullshit. I moved away from him, forcing his hand to fall from my arm. He studied my coldness with a frown.
“Are you sure you’re alright?” he asked, clueless to my thoughts. “He looked like he hurt you, El.”
I stared at him for a moment, my body zinging with rage, and bit out, “You hurt me, Aston.”
Then I closed my locker and stormed off.
*
He kept his distance after that locker incident for a week. It wasn’t hard when he was barely around. Aside from school, the only time we’d see each other was at the dinner table. We’d eat across from one another, and I’d feel his eyes on me while I kept mine pinned to the plate. My parents thought we were just arguing like many times before, so they didn’t bring up the tension.
After the seventh day, he followed me up the stairs and to my room, calling out my name. I ignored him and went to shut the door when his foot blocked it.
“Stop,” he told me, desperately, “Elise, please.”
“Go away,” I seethed.
“I just want to talk about what happened. It’s been almost two weeks. I get you’re upset with me –”
“You don’t know what I am.”
“El –”
“If you don’t leave, I’m going to scream.”
“I just want you to be okay.”
“You don’t know what you want. You kissed me too –”
“Keep it down, Elise –”
“I’ll shout it from the rooftops if I have to!” I hollered.
His green eyes widened, and he looked at me like I’d gone crazy. Maybe I had. I certainly felt wild, like there was a beast within me staging a jail break.
“You want them to know?” he asked quietly, his eyes searching mine. “Because you’re five seconds away from catching their attention with that voice, El.”
“Then go away,” I said harshly.
He stepped back, a contrite look on his face, and whispered, “You’re all I got, Elise. This hurts for me too.”
I closed the door on him just as he finished saying those words. I pressed my forehead against the door, fighting back the urge to cry. I took deep breaths, telling myself to calm down, to clear my head of all this anger. Daddy always said anger was soul crushing, that it was fake and not worth your emotions. He was right, and the more I thought about it, the more I realized I wasn’t blameless in all of this.
I was acting like Aston was the bad guy, but he wasn’t. I didn’t want to cause him pain. He deserved nothing but the best. I stopped with my self-obsessed pity and tried to look at it from his side for the first time since that night.
He wanted his… sister back, didn’t he? Aston came from a fucked up childhood, and here I was fucking it up in a different way. I didn’t want that. I wanted to be part of his life in a way that he would accept. I was being selfish. Rejection had wounded my pride; I thought I was so certain he felt that electricity between us too. I had been foolish, and as a result, I’d muddied our relationship.
You have to mend this before you continue hurting him.
I opened the door again and he was still standing there. He looked at me, and the hope in his eyes only added to my remorse.
He took a deep breath. “Elise,” he said rapidly, breathlessly, “you’re my best friend, alright? I’m sorry for
what happened. I shouldn’t have let it get that far. It was my fault. I led you on and I hurt you. I’m so sorry –”
“Stop,” I interrupted calmly. “Let’s never talk about it again, Aston. Please. I care about us too and…I think it’s important we forget about it. It never happened. It was…wrong and stupid. A complete lapse of judgment, right?”
He nodded slowly, surprised by my sudden change. “Right.”
“Good. Let’s just go back to normal. Let’s…” – I resisted cringing – “be a family.”
He swallowed hard. “You think that’s possible?”
“Sure,” I lied confidently, even though I wanted nothing more than to throw up. “Definitely.”
He still looked rigid. “So what do we do now?”
Good question. I looked down at my feet. “Um…I’m tired. I need to have an early night. We’ll hang out tomorrow or something, okay?”
“That’s what I wanted to talk to you about,” he replied softly, a hand gripping the doorframe. “I spoke to Fred and Cora and they’re fine with you working. We’ll be full-time when school’s out, but you’ll probably be getting paid less than the rest of us initially –”
“That’s cool,” I cut in, hardly hearing his words. I just wanted him gone because I was raw all over and I was worried I’d cry in front of him. “Thanks. I’ll get some shut eye early. What time do you need me up?”
“Seven. We have to prep early and I can show you the ropes.”
“No problem. I’ll see you at seven then.”
I waited for him to leave, but he continued standing there. I forced my eyes up at him for a fleeting moment and faked a smile on my face. He studied me solemnly, and then he sighed and nodded. “See you in the morning, El.”
After another fake smile and a muttered good bye, I closed the door. Then I slid down that door and cradled my knees to my chest.
12.
Elise
Initially, I thought the worst thing I could have done was work alongside Aston. However, once I was part of the team, I realized I didn’t have to interact with him often. He was working on the field and I was working at the storefront, renting out guns, filling up people’s air tanks (before they headed out to play), selling chocolates, sodas and boxes of paintball. It was laid back work in the afternoon, but hectic as hell mid-morning when players flooded in.
Thankfully, I didn’t have to know the lingo, or tend to technical matters. Fred and Cora’s son Patrick worked there too, and he was eighteen, a paintball fanatic, and my newest friend. He handled most interactions with players when they had a problem, and he also swatted away the younger guys that held up the lines trying to flirt with me.
While I was getting paid pitifully, it was a good distraction. I didn’t want to pluck my eyeballs out of my face to stop from crying. Eeyore’s spirit didn’t possess my body, Adele music didn’t play in the background, and my mind wasn’t forced to recall that bitter rejection at the lake. I was too busy chatting to Patrick to pay attention to Aston as he came and went, his eyes glued to me whenever he was around. It seemed like since we mended things, he’d become too attentive and mindful of my company, meanwhile I was doing whatever I could not to stare at him. I just couldn’t do it. Pretending to be normal was hard work.
Instead, I took refuge in my friendship with Patrick. I liked how interested he was in me. It was nice being the one chased for once, and he was all over me. The flirting, the light touches on my shoulder and back, and the smiles with hidden meanings behind them. It was…new for me. Something…different.
I needed to move on. I had to for my own sanity. Out of force, I started to like Patrick. Not in the way I cared for Aston, but in that way that made the heart pinch just slightly in my chest. I liked this pinching feeling better. It made me feel like I was the one in control. He couldn’t hurt me if I didn’t let him in far.
Patrick was easy to be around, and he was funny. Plus he was very nice to look at. It was the perfect combination of boy that kept me from breaking apart. So I flirted back, returned the soft touches, until one weekend afternoon right before I got off work, he asked me out to the movies. I said yes without even blinking.
It was a victory. I’d sit and watch a movie with Patrick. I’d…let him hold my hand. I’d…let him kiss me. Maybe. Perhaps on the cheek at first, and…I don’t know, maybe the mouth, but…No, it’d be the cheek at first. Yes, not the mouth because…that would erase Aston’s touch and…No, it would be good to erase Aston’s touch.
That evening, sitting around the table finishing up dinner, I told Dad, “Patrick wants to take me to the movies tomorrow night.”
Dad paused from his bite and just stared at me for several long moments. I was asking for permission like he’d asked me to do before, but I was seventeen and hadn’t even gone on a date. I wondered if he thought I would never ask, and he probably loved that.
He sighed slowly. “I knew this day would come,” he muttered.
Mom laughed next to me. “She took her time, hon.”
I kept my eyes pinned to Dad, never once tearing them away to glance at Aston. I couldn’t do it. I didn’t want to know what his reaction was or whether he even had one. He probably didn’t even care.
“This is Patrick Hills, right?” Dad confirmed.
I nodded. “Yeah, Fred and Cora’s son. Someone you know.” Someone you won’t have a damn problem with, or need to do background checks of.
He nodded, considering. “Yes, I know about the boy, but…I don’t know much about him. How come you’re talking to him to begin with? Aren’t you working?”
I sighed. “Would I still have a job if I wasn’t?”
“Elise.”
“Of course I’m working. He just helps me out, and we’ve been talking a lot. I don’t see a problem. School’s out next Tuesday, so all my responsibilities are done.”
He made a grunting sound indicating he was not all that impressed before he turned his head to Aston. “What is he like? Good enough for our Elise?”
I held my breath and reluctantly turned my head to Aston. My heart squeezed when I found his eyes on mine. His entire face was blank, his lips in a tight line, and his green eyes…cold. Very cold, it was almost like looking into ice.
“No,” Aston responded calmly, looking back at Dad. “He’s not good enough. He’s a player.”
My jaw dropped. “What? No, no, no, he’s not, Dad!”
Dad frowned. “Are you sure?” he asked Aston solemnly.
Aston nodded straightaway. “I don’t trust him. It’s bad enough she works around him. He’s an asshole.”
“Language,” Mom quietly added in disapproval.
I ignored her. “This is bullshit! Patrick is like the poster child for good guys! He’s got nice manners, and he isn’t an asshole, Dad. I swear it.”
Aston didn’t look ruffled as he said, “Dad, what would she know except what he’s told her? I’m a guy. I know what guys are really like, not what they’re pretending to be just to impress a girl.”
“Then why hang out with him?” I angrily retorted, glaring at him.
Aston looked at me, his face still blank. “He’s a good friend. That doesn’t make him a good boyfriend.”
“That’s not true –”
“I’m just being honest.”
“That’s such bullshit and you know it –”
“Alright, calm down,” Dad interrupted in a loud voice, silencing me. “Just relax, alright?”
I didn’t relax. I glared daggers at Aston, wondering what the hell he was playing at. There was nothing remotely wrong with Patrick. He was a seriously decent guy, and I saw the way he was like with the other guys. He had never pretended to be someone else with me.
“Now, I don’t know much about this boy,” Dad explained sternly, “and I’d like to have a talk with him before you go out. Just to be sure.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re just going to intimidate him, Daddy, and he’ll be freaked out.”
“I don
’t care how freaked out he is.” Ah, yes, the officer in him had surfaced. “What I care about is how he treats my daughter. There’s a lot of bad guys out there, Elise, and like Aston said, he may be one way with the girls, but he could be an entirely different way with everybody else. I need to be sure. Do you understand?”
I didn’t reply.
“Elise.”
I sighed and snapped, “Fine.”
“And work out whatever is going on between you two,” Dad added, staring at us grumpily. “I’m tired of you both fighting and giving each other the silent treatment. At the end of the day, when your mother and I are gone, all you’ll have is each other. For the love of god, grow up. You’re practically adults now.”
“Typical sibling stuff,” Mom assured him. “They’ll get over it. They always do.”
Sibling stuff. I didn’t hide the shudder I felt deep in my bones. Even my eye twitched.
“I just want us to be a happy family,” he replied to her. “It’s all I’ve ever cared about, that they’re happy. And this teenage shit is hard, especially from you, Elise.”
“Sorry for not being perfect,” I muttered defensively, “or like Aston. I don’t get the grades, and I can’t stay couped up in a bedroom, buried in a boring textbook. Forgive me for wanting to go out with a guy and enjoy myself for once –”
“That’s not what your father meant,” Mom cut in. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Dramatic? I’m not being dramatic. This is so unfair.”
Dad sighed. “I told you, Elise, I just need a word with this boy.”
I glared at him. “Do you want a tracker on me too, Dad? I’m seventeen years old.”
“Yes, seventeen years old,” he growled back, exasperated by my attitude. “If you’re so certain you can take care of yourself, the world is outside that door. Get a job, pay the bills, feed yourself and still find the time to go out on your date.”
Silence.
Well, shit, I just got owned. I had no decent rebuttal either.
I got up moments later and dumped my dishes in the sink. Then I huffed and puffed out of there, typical teenage girl style. Before I left, I glanced over my shoulder and at Aston. My eyes narrowed at the subtle smirk on his face. He stared back at me, and I could see the message loud and clear in his icy expression. He said two words, unspoken: