Dynasty

by Jen Davis et al.

  Still, she isn’t strong enough to get away from him.

  I would know. Once Dad holds on to you, nothing can pull you off. That makes me feel safe when he is doing things like spinning me in the air and teaching me how to swim. But I have a feeling, it’s very different for Mom right now.

  Aunt Raven smiles, and it looks so horribly fake on her face that I want to cry. She doesn’t fake her smiles.

  I can see tears glistening in her eyes. But she simply shrugs her husband—well, now ex-husband probably—off. “And you’re a stoned piece of shit sometimes, but you don’t see me name calling now, do you?”

  He opens his mouth to say something but she has already started walking away. Grabbing her purse from the table, she looks at her friends. “I’ll call soon. Get Kennedy ready for school tomorrow and tell him I’ve gone on a short trip. Tell him I love him a thousand times.”

  She looks at Uncle Smoke as she says, “I’ll come for him as soon as I can.”

  She walks so confidently to the door, that no one can say anything. Uncle Smoke looks like he is about to go after her, but makes himself stay. I can see that the metal spoon that was on the table is somehow in his hands, folded into two.

  He shouts after her, “I’m not coming after you, if that’s what you want!”

  My aunt barely gives him a glance as she puts her hand on the doorknob. “Oh, babe, you will come after me. You’re going to be on your knees begging me to come back.” She shrugs. “I already made my decision, so it’s not going to change anything.”

  “If anyone is going to be on their knees, it’s going to be you. I don’t bow for anyone, Rave.” He says the nickname with what seems like intense hatred. “Especially someone who I could barely give a damn about anymore.”

  “Really? Did your love for your wife really change that quickly?”

  After a moment of silence, he says, “Maybe it was never there at all.”

  My aunt freezes at this. Then she simply pulls back her shoulders and opens the door to leave. I can see her hands shaking, from anger or sadness or both, I don’t know.

  Nana is the one that says, “Amore, stay safe.”

  And giving a slight nod, my uncle’s love, my mother’s best friend, my cousin’s mom, my dad’s friend, and my friend all at once disappear into the night.

  Chapter 31

  Caterina

  I don’t speak to either of my parents the whole morning. I say good morning to Beth and Evon, hug Kennedy to death, and simply get ready for school.

  Dad tries to speak to me, something like, “Caterina, why were you sleeping in the closet yesterday?”

  I look straight up at him, shake my head, smile, scoff a little and say, “Mm, Dad.”

  He had sided with my uncle, he had left my aunt in the dust. Even when Uncle Smoke had talked to her in such horrible ways. Dad had told Mom to mind her own business. As if Aunt Raven wasn’t like my other mom. As if she hadn’t raised me. As if she wasn’t the best thing to ever happen to this family.

  As if we weren’t family.

  He knows it too because he doesn’t try to say anything else. He just hands me my lunch money, even though he has already put a thousand into my school account. I leave it on my dresser.

  When Dad parks in the driveway of my school and my parents both turn to say goodbye, I slip out of the car without saying anything.

  Right at the last moment, I turn to them and looking at Dad say, “Tell Kennedy I love him…a thousand times.”

  ***

  I don’t notice anything that happens for the rest of the day. I think people are buzzing about the football game today. I think. I don’t know. I don’t care.

  All I’m thinking about is where my aunt is. If she is okay. If she is hurt. If Kennedy is okay.

  If Dad and the other men are going to hurt her.

  God please, please let me be wrong.

  Mell bounces up to me. “Ha-ya, K!”

  I blink at her, unmoving. “You dyed your hair. To purple.”

  She touches her bangs and her hair by her shoulders. “Yeah, do you like it?” There’s a dark smile on her face.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Cool, ’cause I don’t care. I dyed it for me, not for you.” There’s humor in her voice.

  “Okay.”

  I start walking to my class.

  “Okay, what the fuck is wrong with you, Kitty?” She looks me up and down with narrowed eyes. “You’re wearing all like…dark. And stuff.”

  “So?”

  She nudges me. “So, that’s supposed to be me. And even I’m wearing something light.” She is. She is dressed in a flowery patterned crop top, blue jeans and white tennis shoes. And she was being extremely cheery.

  Ugh.

  “Cool.”

  I keep moving, saying “excuse me” while I push past students but Mell catches me by my arm. She looks up at me and I realize how really short she is when she’s pressed up close. “Dude, what the fuck? Did someone suck the light out of the sun or some shit? Yesterday you were all like ‘Oh my god, I’m so high!’”

  I shrug, swallowing the lump in my throat. “Every high has a fall.”

  A scowl grows across her face. The bell rings but she grips my elbow. “No fucking way. You don’t get to do that.”

  “I do. Now get your hands off me and leave. Me. Alone.”

  She drops her hands like I’ve burned her. Her jaw tightens. “Fuck you, Caterina. I’m not some clingy person that’s bugging you.”

  I notice that she had called me by my full name. I can’t bring myself to care. Because if I care, I would break down. I shrug and walk away.

  I beg her to call me back. To tell me to explain. To force me to tell someone.

  But she lets me go, and I am forced to continue walking toward the only room where I might find answers.

  ***

  I drop into the seat next to Valentin. For the first time ever, he is already there. I don’t say hi and he doesn’t either.

  He seems to be in a bad mood. Great, now this is going to go even worse than I had expected.

  He had pulled down the cap on his head to cover his eyes and he sits there, slouching. I put my notebooks in order in front of me, put a sharpened pencil on the desk indent, and fold my hands on my lap.

  “Okay, Valentin, I’m going to ask you something and I need you to answer it.”

  He doesn’t turn toward me. He doesn’t say anything.

  All right then. I need something to do with my hands so I start putting my hair in a bun on the base of my neck. “Um, cool. I’m going to take that not-no as a yes. I don’t believe anything that you’ve said to me so far, let’s just settle that. But something happened in my home yesterday, something with my family.”

  His head snaps up, and suddenly his green eyes are glowing. There is something like interest in them that I’ve never seen before.

  It makes me slightly wary but I go along with it. What else can I do?

  He leans in, and his words caress my skin. “Tell me.”

  I can smell alcohol and cigarette smoke on his breath. He is in a really bad mood.

  I am silent, looking toward the front of the room. His words are more demanding and harsher as he says, “What the fuck is it, Kitten?”

  Mr. Mahor watches us from the front of the room, and I catch his gaze. His eyes narrow before he says, “Is there something you wish to tell the class, Mr. Nikolaev?”

  Valentin doesn’t move an inch, his eyes still on me, his breath on my skin. I can feel people turning in their seats to look at us.

  “No, Mr. Mahor. But I do have something that I need to discuss with my partner.”

  “Is that true, Ms. Callahan?”

  I don’t look at Valentin. “Nope.” I pop the P.

  Do I know that it will make him angry? Yes. Do I need information from him? Yes. Will I end up being embarrassed? Probably. Why do I do it?

  Because I had been happy yesterday and we could have gone somewhere and don
e something and I could have gotten my peace and quiet and happiness and liked him a little bit more but he had left and come back drunk.

  I turn to him, defying his gaze. “No, we have nothing to discuss.”

  ***

  Mell

  I watch the cars beyond my school field, beyond the train station. I watch them move fast, flashing and beeping and swerving like they have somewhere important to be, like they have someone counting on them and they have to get to them.

  I inhale the cigarette smoke hard, if you can do that type of thing. “Fuck,” I whisper, blinking away what better not be fucking tears. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.”

  I’m not the type of girl to make friends. I am the fucking slut. I have boyfriends and side hoes—yes, men can be hoes—and I fuck and got fucked. I don’t make friends with stuck up, all-holy, preppy, white blonde girls. This isn’t a fucking movie. None of the “we’re all so diverse, OMG” bullshit they tried to shove down our throats.

  So I don’t know why it hurt so fucking much that Kitty decided to ditch me. I had known it was going to happen. She was going to realize that I am a freak, a slut, and that she wouldn’t make any good friends with me around.

  “Fuck,” I whisper again. I walk slowly to the roof’s edge. “Fuck that bitch.”

  I had dyed my hair purple. Fucking purple. I couldn’t blame her that she didn’t know me long enough to not know what it means but fuck, I’m still angry at her. Or maybe not her. She hadn’t done anything.

  At the world for dealing me the crappiest hand known to man.

  As if it had looked at potato Melanie as a fetus and was like, “Hm. I wonder which crappy card to deal this little sack of shit. You know what? How about I make one just for her,” and then took that card and crapped on it…to make it crappier, you know.

  I wonder if Tom remembers.

  If he remembers when I used to do it as a kid. Why I did it.

  I step on the roof’s edge. One more step and I am gone.

  I deeply inhale the smoke and tilt my head to the sky. There’s a strong breeze and I open my arms out wide and mouth to the air, Take me. Take me with you.

  “You know…swearing is bad.” The voice is behind me. It’s deep, slow, a rumble.

  “Fuck. Shit. Bitch. Cunt. Nut sucker. Dipshit. Shall I continue?”

  “Are you sure there’s more, little flame?” His voice is too low for me to distinguish between one asshole in this school and the other. But he sounds amused.

  “Cum dumper. Cocksucker. Cock holder.”

  “You seem to have a strangely large amount about cocks…” His voice seems to have moved closer.

  I open my eyes slowly and look down. I see the parking lot below me, three stories down. At least my body isn’t fucking stupid enough not to feel scared. It just doesn’t give a fuck.

  Purple.

  “It’s because I’m a slut. Haven’t you heard?”

  Chapter 32

  Mell

  There’s a pause before he says, “Really? Interesting.”

  Not for me.

  Not when I hear slut being whispered every fucking day.

  Kitty experienced it for a couple of hours and she almost went crazy. She broke down. But one of the Nikolaev brothers intervened on her behalf and everything went silent. Even though Valentin Nikolaev is shitty, she is lucky. Really fucking lucky because it sucks. Majorly.

  I’m not lucky enough to have that buffer.

  Because I am my own buffer.

  And I am fine with it. But sometimes it is so fucking hard to deflect the blows.

  Teachers think I am a good-for-nothing ghetto black girl who is going to get pregnant before I graduate. The girls are too scared of me to even give me a second look and when all the boys see me, they think: How the fuck does a small chick like that have such enormous boobs and ass?

  The only boys that have learned their lesson are…well, they aren’t at this school anymore.

  A car whizzes by below and I jerk. I stumble before catching myself.

  The boy speaks again. He’s not telling me to get off the edge. No, he seems…relaxed like he couldn’t give two fucks if I jump.

  I swallow and say, “You should probably leave right now.”

  “Nah, I think I like this view.”

  “Is it the ass?”

  There’s a surprised cough and he says after a pause, “Maybe.”

  I lift one leg, as if I could step on air.

  “Do you think that’s wise, little flame?”

  I set my leg back down and glare up at the cloud. “Why are you calling me that?”

  “Does it make you angry?”

  “It’s not my name.”

  “I know.”

  “My name is Slut.” I like shocking people. Bursting their bubbles. Killing their vibe.

  But it isn’t working on him. “Hm…for some reason, it doesn’t seem to suit you.”

  “Fuck you.”

  There’s a long pause. I wonder if he’s left.

  But then I hear his voice right behind me, enough that his breath caresses my back. “I wish I could, little flame.” He whispers something else under his breath.

  “Well there’s a line, so get behind Darnes.”

  Eric Darnes is the boy who groped my ass this past weekend at Lola’s party. Apparently, it was a dare. I was too tired to do anything but cuss him out.

  I don’t realize I have been speaking out loud, whispering my thoughts to the air, to the clouds, to the city beyond until I hear a growl behind me. But nothing else.

  “I dyed my hair purple this weekend.”

  I don’t know why I say it, but I just want someone to know. Someone to hear me.

  Just one word from him, a caress. “Why?”

  I don’t answer.

  I stand there, my arms out as if I’m about to fly. I squeeze my eyes shut and allow myself to cry. I never cry.

  Being born with a vagina is already a weakness enough. It makes you prey. Food for the men who wish to take a bite.

  But this time, I cry.

  I remember his hands. Four fingers shoved in my mouth, the other sliding under my skirt into my underwear. Fuck. Fuck I was so stupid. I forgot to lock my bedroom door.

  And the predator got in again.

  I take a deep breath and lift my arms higher. I choke out, “Never again. Never fucking again.”

  And I jump.

  ***

  Something feels wrong. I’m flying.

  I’m flying but it doesn’t feel right.

  Something’s wrong—

  Suddenly, I crash against the ground, but not actually because I’m cushioned into a body that isn’t mine. I can feel how big it is, how warm—how hot—and suddenly I can feel his breath in my ear, talking, saying, whispering something.

  “You are okay. You are okay…” And then something in another language, something soft and melodic but rough. There seems to be something very familiar about him, his voice, but I can’t decipher it.

  I’m too tired to try.

  I’m breathing hard and I can feel my cheeks are wet. I curl on my side, his body molding under my mine. “Fuck. Fuck. Fuck,” I whisper into myself, into the cracks on the ground. Did I just…had I almost just…I fucking jumped?

  My heart is beating too fast for me to count. My body is trembling and I can feel blood rushing everywhere. Holy fucking shit, I had been close to dying. Close to dying. Why did I fucking do that? How stupid could I be?

  I hear him, his voice a soft lullaby in my ears. I think he’s singing something in another language. I choke on my words as I whisper them into my skin, “If you’re going to kill yourself, Melanie, make sure the fall will actually kill you. Not fucking disable you for life and make you a Helen Keller in a wheelchair.”

  I start whispering more shit to myself, things that I know don’t even make sense. I stop my rambling for a second. Then suddenly I freeze, everything coming together in my head. That voice, I know who it is. “You.” I whisper.
<
br />   “You.” I twist around, which is kind of hard to do since I’m between his legs. I blink up at him. My eyes clear. His eyes are fixed on me.

  He sees the moment confusion turns into hatred in my eyes because he starts to say my name. “Mell—”

  I push him off of me and roll away. I jump to my feet. “What the fuck are you doing?” I sway on my feet and although Nathan-Fucking-Nikolaev had buffered my body, I can still feel some bruising on my sides.

  He gets up quickly and walks toward me, his eyes furrowing. “Be careful—”

  I step away, my face contorting into something hard. “Stay. The. Fuck. Away. From. Me.”

  He watches, running a hand through his hair. He takes a breath as if he’s fucked up. “Okay, okay. I just—”

  I snarl, putting a hand on my hip. My tears are gone, my weakness hidden, and I have my mask on. “What Nate? You’re fucking sorry? Is that it?”

  He winces, and his blue-green eyes avoid my eyes. “I am sorry.”

  I’m silent for five heartbeats.

  I sigh and look at him with sympathetic eyes. “Really?”

  He looks at me, and his face softens. “Yes, I am.” He has his hands in his pockets.

  I smile and nod softly. “Well, that changes everything.”

  “Really?” He sounds so fucking hopeful that I want to throw up.

  I look at him like he’s stupid. “Of course not, you fucking shithead. Take your weak ass apology and shove it down your throat. Choke on it. Digest it. And die.”

  Chapter 33

  Mell

  His eyes widen and there’s a flash of amusement on his face. “Is me saving you not a good apology?”

  He thinks he saved me?

  Oh fuck, this shit.

  I laugh, my voice tinkling. “You didn’t save me.”

  His eyes darken, and any amusement leaves him. He steps toward me, that single stride swallowing the ground between us. He grabs my arm. “That wasn’t funny. Don’t ever fucking do that again, Mell.”