by Lindy Zart
Lola slowly faced Roxanne. “What do you want?”
It was all so childish and tiresome and petty. Lola wished Roxanne would leave her alone and stop picking on her for whatever reason. It seemed so trite compared to what she faced every day at home.
Roxanne tossed her head and placed a hand on a hip. A green hooded sweatshirt emphasized her eyes, dark skinny jeans molded to her legs.
“What do I want? Let’s see.” She tapped her cheek and cocked her head. Almost immediately Roxanne straightened and her eyes narrowed. “I want you to stay away from my boyfriend.”
Lola took a step back at the look of loathing on Roxanne’s face. Even her cold beauty was blocked out by it, leaving something ugly in its place.
“That’s not a problem,” Lola told her.
“Yeah. I almost believe that. Except I know Sebastian has been waiting outside his house every night to make sure you get home okay from work. I don’t like it.”
Lola knew it would do no good to explain she didn’t know why he was doing that, nor did she want him to do that.
“How do you know that?”
Roxanne took a step closer. “Because he told me. Says he feels bad for you, like there might be something wrong at your house.” She stopped. “Sebastian has a big heart and thinks he needs to protect people.”
She knew better than anyone just how big his heart was and how protective he could be. Resentment Roxanne knew as well reared up, but Lola squashed it down. Roxanne was his girlfriend, of course she knew things like that; she should know things like that.
Lola had merely been his friend since she’d moved in across the street thirteen years ago. She wasn’t anymore. She had to remember that.
“I know.”
Roxanne’s lips thinned. “I don’t know what game you’re playing at, but you might as well stop.”
“Game?” Lola had no idea what she was talking about.
“This past year you’ve lost weight, gotten all pale, and have this sad look on your face all the time. You don’t talk to anyone. You’ve turned creepy.” Roxanne’s voice shook and her hands fisted at her sides. “And now you try to be cool by getting in trouble. You obviously want attention.”
Lola was stunned by her words, by the heat in her tone. Was that what people thought? That she had withdrawn and changed as a ploy to get attention? Bitter anger swept through her.
“You don’t know…what you’re talking about,” she choked out, close to tears.
Roxanne laughed and a shiver went down Lola’s back. “I know you want Sebastian back in your life and I know it’s not going to happen.” Her nostrils flared as she leaned toward Lola. “You stay away from my boyfriend. Or else.”
Lola fisted her hands and challenged, “Or else what?”
The hate on Roxanne’s face was staggering. She jabbed a long fingernail at Lola, piercing the sensitive skin below her neck. “Or else you’ll be sorry.”
Roxanne flounced past, taking the scent of raspberries and loathing with her.
Lola drew in a ragged breath, feeling weak. She raised a shaking hand to her neck and touched the sore spot. Roxanne wasn’t just nasty, as she’d first thought; she was scary.
Sick with all that had happened in recent days, Lola fell to a bench and let it hold her up.
What Roxanne had said were lies. Regardless of whether it was true or not; it still hurt. And telling her to stay away from Sebastian when he’d barely spoken to her in a year? That wouldn’t be hard to do.
Lola’s life was such a mess. She felt so helpless, like everyone else controlled her with their actions and words.
I wonder what would happen if I wasn’t here anymore?
The forbidden thought scared her. That she would think such a thing and that Lola wondered if it really mattered if she was around or not.
***
It was dark by the time she got home. She could see her breath in the chilly air. Lola timed it so that it was around the time she usually got home from work. She’d even worn her work clothes so there was no suspicion. Lola supposed if Bob had decided to check up on her at work it wouldn’t have mattered what she was wearing when she got home.
Before she made it to the front door she heard him. Something smashed against a wall. Bob swore. Lana softly cried. Lola’s pulse raced. She couldn’t go in there. Anytime he was mad, it was somehow her fault.
Lola quietly backed away from the door, eyes trained on it. He never hit her mother, though his words were often cruel. She should be okay and would be leaving for work soon. Then it would be just the two of them. Lola wordlessly shook her head. No.
She stumbled over a tree root and caught herself. Lola turned and stared at Sebastian’s house. Lights shone through the windows and the television was on in the living room. The house and those within it beckoned to her.
Lola ducked her head and hurried down the street. It would be worse for her to show up later, but maybe Bob would be passed out, and whatever he would do would have to wait until the next day. One less day of abuse to endure.
She knew her rationalizing didn’t make sense, but right now, to her, it did. Daytime monsters weren’t as scary as nighttime ones, no matter what he did to her.
A car drove by. For one terrifying second Lola thought it was Bob coming to get her, but it passed without slowing. She exhaled deeply and went down an alley, deciding to stay off the main streets. Her light jacket wasn’t doing much against the cold and Lola shivered.
When a cat yowled she jumped. Lola’s eye scanned the dark, searching for a possible unknown predator. She kept walking until she was near a wooded area on the outskirts of town. Lola stopped. A forest of trees surrounded her, looking ominous in the dark, but somehow familiar too.
Had she been there before? She didn’t think so.
A limb cracked under her shoes as she made her way to a rock slab big enough to sit on. Or hide under. It sat high and jutted out, like an upside down L.
Shadows moved and Lola squeaked.
“Wondered how long it would take you to show up again.” The voice came from the far side of the rock, low and mocking.
“Who’s there?” Lola demanded, heart pounding.
She had the insane thought Bob had somehow gotten there before her and lay in wait for her. Impossible, but fear was rarely logical.
The shadow moved and a form jumped to the ground. It lengthened, shaped into a young man. He was clothed in black, making it difficult to see him in the night. Lola thought maybe that was the point.
He smoothed long bangs back from his forehead and strode toward her. His green eyes caught her attention first, then his lowered eyebrows. “Well, I’m not your knight in shining armor. I’ll leave that title to Sebastian Jones.”
His words confused her, along with the way he said them. What did he mean by that?
“What are you doing here?”
Jack leaned against a tree and crossed his arms. “I could ask you the same thing. I’m always here. This is where I come when I can’t handle life.”
He craned his head back and looked at the sky. His lips curved sardonically and he glanced at her. “Which is why I’m here just about every night.”
His unshielded honesty tugged at her. Lola could relate to that. She took a step closer.
“Why are you in trouble all the time?”
Lola stopped beside him and looked at the twinkling stars. He smelled like leather and laundry detergent, the cologne from earlier now faded.
“Why were you in detention today?”
Lola was unnerved to find his gaze locked on her. She shoved her hands in her jacket pockets and looked away. “Mr. Welsh was picking on me.”
“He picks on everyone. Why take it personally?”
“I don’t know,” she answered. It did seem silly now. She’d just been so fed up, so angry.
“I’m in detention all the time because I don’t want to go home. Can’t go home if I have detention, right?”
Lola sucked in a sha
rp breath and glanced at him. “What happens at home?” she asked in a small voice.
Jack’s lips pressed together and he shrugged. “Dad likes to knock me around. He works from six at night until six in the morning. If I’m lucky he’s gone by the time I get home.”
Suddenly Lola saw Jack Forrester in a whole new light. He wasn’t a druggie, a troublemaker, or an academic failure. He was an abused boy trying to deal with it the only way he knew how. He was her.
Lola felt sick, like she couldn’t breathe. She backed away from him, staring into knowing eyes.
“What’s your excuse, Goody Two Shoes?”
A breeze picked up Jack’s shaggy hair and blew it across his eyes. The lower part of his face was visible, slivers of his eyes glowed through strands of hair. It was unsettling.
Lola licked dry lips and asked a question of her own. “Do you ever…do you ever fight back?”
Jack stiffened. “Oh yeah, all the time. But then he goes after my sister instead.” He swung around to face her, locking her in place with the intensity of his eyes. “Once. Once I fought back. Bastard hit my sister so hard she couldn’t see out of her left eye for a week. He just needs a punching bag.” He spread his arms wide. “I’m it.”
Lola pressed her arm against her midsection and swallowed with difficulty. “I’m so sorry.”
How could he stand it? Years of it. Bob had been around for a year and that was almost unbearable. Jack had probably been abused his whole life. He had to be eighteen, or close to it. If he wasn’t failing his classes, he would graduate in a little over a month. Jack could leave.
“Don’t be sorry.” He moved away, pulled himself onto the rock, and offered her a hand.
Lola hesitated, and then put her hand within his warm, calloused one. He lifted her easily and released her hand once she was on the rock. For that brief instant their hands touched, she’d felt a connection to another human being.
“I’m an adult. I could leave. I don’t for my sister. You know her?” Lola shook her head. “No. I guess she would be beneath your notice.”
She glared at him and scooted away to put more distance between them. “I don’t know why you act like I’m some kind of snob. I’m not. Never have been.”
“Not this year.”
Lola drew her knees to her chest and wrapped her arms around her knees. People and their assumptions. None of them right.
What did you assume about Jack? her conscience chimed in. Lola made a face.
“You don’t even know me,” Lola reminded him.
Jack paused. “Right. Anyway, she’s a sophomore. Pretty little blond with big brown eyes.” Lola scrutinized his face and hair. Jack laughed. “Yeah. She looks nothing like me, lucky kid. She loves to sing and she has the sweetest voice.”
Lola was shocked by the depth of feeling she heard in his voice. She wouldn’t have thought him capable of such feeling. One more assumption she would have gotten wrong. She’d told him he didn’t know her. But she also didn’t know him.
“What’s her name?”
“Isabelle.”
She made a mental note to find out who Isabelle Forrester was.
“What exactly was I like last year, may I ask? According to you, that is.”
“You may.”
“But you won’t answer?”
“I can answer. I just don’t know if you want to hear it.”
Lola pressed her lips together. “Go ahead.”
Jack glanced at her, one side of his mouth lifted. His eyes gleamed in the dark with wicked intent. “Okay. You thought yourself above others.”
“I never—“
“What am I like?” he interrupted.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Oh, come on. Yes, you do. Tell me. I’m waiting,” he added when Lola said nothing.
“I don’t know anything about you.”
“But you thought you did, earlier,” he pressed. “I could tell by the look on your face.”
Lola shifted. “Okay, fine. I thought things and I was wrong. Same as you. But I never thought I was better than anyone.”
“Sure, Goody Two Shoes,” he mocked quietly.
“I wish you wouldn’t call me that.” Frustrated, Lola turned her head away, staring into the night. Maybe she had been like that, but she was quickly learning it was wrong to do so. With a few spiteful remarks Roxanne had shown her that.
“So, Lola, what do you like to do?”
It was such an unoriginal, normal question Lola gave a surprised laugh. Twice in one day, both in Jack’s presence. Strange.
“What do I like to do?” What did she like to do anymore? Last year that question would have had lots of answers: shopping, dancing, watching movies, hanging out with her friends. This year she had one answer.
“I like to write.”
Jack reared back. “Really?”
“Yes, really. Why is that so hard to believe?”
“What, like, sappy love stories?”
She felt her face heat up. “No. Like, poems, and stuff.” Lola waited for his laughter. It never came.
“Can I read one sometime?”
Lola froze. No one had ever asked to read her work; no one had ever read her work. Lola didn’t even know if anyone knew she liked to write.
“If I can see one of your drawings.”
It was Jack’s turn to go still. “Uh…”
Lola nudged his shoulder. “Fair is fair.”
After a moment, he blew out a breath. “Okay.”
“But it can’t be one of those creepy ones you always draw.”
One side his mouth quirked up. “Example?”
She shifted, the rock digging into her sensitive flesh. “You know, like demons and zombies and whatever else you draw at school.”
“So you’re a fan, are you?”
“Not exactly.”
“Yet you know my work. Must be a fan.”
“Whatever.”
He leaned back and propped his head with his arms. Lola did the same. They watched the stars and an occasional plane fly overhead in the sky. It was a comfortable quiet and Lola felt more at ease than she had in months.
She didn’t have to pretend everything was okay; she didn’t have to be on guard. Lola could just…be. Though he’d never asked about her life at home, Lola still felt like he knew, and accepted, and didn’t judge.
“You can come here whenever you need to, Lola. I’ll be here,” Jack said after a long silence.
Those words warmed her. She didn’t say anything, but a small smile took hold of her lips. Lola didn’t feel so alone anymore.
4
Lola bolted upright in her bed. Her eyes shot to the clock and she moaned. She’d overslept. Lola rushed around the room, throwing on a blue shirt and jeans. She quickly brushed her hair and teeth.
She paced outside her mother’s bedroom door. If she didn’t get a ride, she would be late. She had her driver’s license, but there was only one vehicle and it was Bob’s. No way would he let her take it.
Lola couldn’t believe the luck she’d had last night. She’d heard Bob snoring away in the bedroom when she’d gotten home after midnight.
Now, because of her sleeping late, Lola was going to stir the beast before the beast was ready to stir, which would make it so much worse.
You should have known.
She chewed her lip as she stared at the cracked white paint of the door. There was one rule she knew better than to break: never disturb them when the door was closed. But Lola couldn’t afford another detention the very next day after getting her first ever.
Lola swallowed and hesitantly knocked on the door. There was no response so she knocked again. She heard Bob curse and the door flung open.
He glared at her. His thin hair stuck up in tufts and he had on a pair of boxers. Lola recoiled from the sight and smell of him.
“What?” he snapped, hands gripping either side of the door frame.
“I…I overslept and…”
Lola gestured with her hands, avoiding his gaze. “I’m going to be late if I don’t get a ride. Can I please get a ride to school?”
Bob moved so fast Lola had no time to react. He shoved her into the hallway. “You little moron! Can’t even get your ass to school on time. God damn it!”
Lola stumbled and fell against the wall. “I’m sorry,” she got out through lips numb with fear.
Spittle flew from his mouth as he yelled, “You’re gonna be sorry!”
Lola flinched back, but she wasn’t fast enough. The crack of his hand against her face jerked her head to the side. She fell against the wall and put a hand to her face, the coolness of her palm at odds with the burning flesh.
Her breath left her in short gasps and she stared at the brown carpet, her body trembling. She stayed like that, waiting.
“Get your ass to the car.” He kicked the door open wider and went inside the bedroom.
Lola briefly closed her eyes. She grabbed her backpack from the floor. She didn’t look into the bedroom, didn’t check to see if her mother was awake and had witnessed what had just happened. She was sure she had.
She hurried down the hallway with her head lowered. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks. Lola carefully shut the front door behind her, the cool air stinging her already tender flesh. She forced her legs to keep moving though they wanted nothing more than to collapse beneath her.
Her hands shook and she didn’t get the black Buick’s door open until the second try. She gingerly sat on the dirty seat. Fast food wrappers and soda cans crumpled under her feet. It smelled like body odor and Lola put a hand over her nose and mouth.
As she sat there waiting, a low moan escaped her. It sounded like a wounded animal and Lola was stunned that such a noise could come from her. Her face hurt, but inside was what hurt the most. Helplessness cocooned her. Lola felt so lost. She wrapped her arms around her midsection and let the sobs overtake her.
Footsteps reached her ears and she quickly wiped her eyes, being careful around her sore eye and cheek.
Bob, dressed in a blue shirt with holes, red and black plaid pajama pants, and snow boots, climbed into the vehicle. He didn’t look at her, didn’t say a word.
Lola pressed her body against the door, trying to get as much space between them as possible without him noticing. She jumped from the car as soon as he pulled up to the curb.