Cut, Ivy. Cut yourself. It’s almost like a high-school chant coming from my own personal cheerleader.
“No, I can do this. I control you. You don’t control me.”
He throws his head back in a full, condescending belly laugh. I will always own you.
Gathering my strength, I drop the blade back into the pouch. Something new zings around inside of me. It’s something more than confidence. I can’t describe it; I can’t put my finger on it.
“I am not a fool,” I spit toward him.
His spine becomes rigid as he backs away from me. Next time, Ivy. His words are as forceful as he is.
Swallowing hard, I curl up and shuffle until I find the coolness of the door on my back. I escaped him. I won.
Tears flow from me. Tears of joy and elation. I fought him and won. “I can do this,” I say aloud. A sense of peace blankets me.
“Dinner,” Dad calls from the kitchen.
I take another moment to truly compose myself. Standing, I slide the blade back into the pouch and put it back in the bottom drawer. I see myself in the mirror; I look terrible. My face is splotchy and my eyes are red. Splashing water on my face, I can’t help but be on edge. The darkness is still inside of me.
It’s there, waiting to break free in the form of my demon.
I need him to go away, and I need to get rid of those thoughts. I can’t let him into my life. I need him to leave me the hell alone.
This isn’t healthy.
This isn’t right.
Chapter 12
“Why did you have to tell him?” I ask Jared as we sit out on the back deck at home.
“Jared couldn’t keep his mouth shut about your birthday. You should know that by now, Ivy,” Dad scolds me.
This is true. When I turned fourteen, Jared brought fourteen balloons and fourteen cupcakes to school. He made the entire class sing to me in every lesson we had together, and he made me carry those balloons around with me the whole day. On my fifteenth birthday, he had the local florist deliver fifteen long-stemmed roses to me throughout the day at school. Whispers started and people thought he and I were a couple, although clearly we’re not. On my sixteenth birthday, he asked the principal if he could make an announcement and sang ‘Happy Birthday’ to me over the school’s PA system. My seventeenth birthday was, thankfully, celebrated with a lot less fanfare, because it was a Saturday and he couldn’t embarrass me at school. Now I’m turning eighteen and it’s Sunday, which means I will again escape any kind of big gesture he would’ve tried to do at school.
“I’m just grateful today is a Sunday, because who knows what you would’ve done if we were at school.”
“I was considering skywriting,” Jared says with a straight face. I wouldn’t put it past him. Nothing surprises me when it comes to Jared. “But instead, I thought I’d tell Tobias and get him to come over today. I ran it past your dad, he said he was cool with it.”
“It would have been nice if you had let me throw you a party, Ivy. Eighteen is a big year,” Dad says
I shrug my shoulders and crinkle my nose. Parties are not my thing. I really don’t like being surrounded by people. I’m not anti-people, I’m more anti-a-lot-of-people. I can take them in their big groups only in very small doses. They don’t really interest me. I don’t care about gossip and who’s doing what to whom. It’s just not my scene. “Nah, not for me, Dad. This is cool though, I’m alright with this.” I circle the table with my finger.
I hear the side gate creak open, and a few seconds later Tobias appears holding a bunch of flowers. “Hi,” he says as he makes his way toward us.
He looks so carefree and happy, with an easy smile and bright eyes. “Hey,” I say as I stand and meet him at the steps leading down to the garden.
His strong arms come around me, hugging me close to his tight body. I like being here, it feels right. “Happy birthday, Ivy,” he whispers in my ear.
Tobias holds me for a long moment, the only thing bringing us out of the embrace is my Dad clearing his throat. Yeah, yeah, Dad I get it.
“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?” he asks as he hands me the bunch of brightly colored flowers.
Shrugging I grimace at his question. “I’m not a birthday kinda girl.”
“Yeah, but this is your eighteenth. It’s a big deal.”
“Good, someone else agrees with me,” Dad adds. “Should’ve let me give you a party.”
I sit down where I was, and Tobias goes to shake Dad’s hand. “Sir,” he says before Dad gives him a small nod of his head. Then he walks over to Jared, where those two fist bump each other. “Thanks for telling me.”
“I knew she wouldn’t.” Jared points to me.
“Really?” I say in a rather high-pitched tone indicating the truth to his statement. “Yeah, I would.”
“We had a date Friday night and you didn’t tell me about it. So yeah, I’m believing my brother over here.” Tobias pointedly looks at Jared. “Got your back, dude,” he says with a cheeky smile.
“Is this a, ‘let’s gang up against Ivy’ kinda thing?” I ask with a forced pout.
Dad chuckles and stands from his chair when we hear the doorbell sound. “Dinner’s here. I’ve even got cake,” he proudly announces.
“Need a hand?” Tobias volunteers as he stands and follows Dad.
“Thank you.” They both disappear inside, leaving Jared and me out on the deck.
“He’s got it bad for you,” Jared says.
“Nah, I don’t think so.”
“My love-dar is going off. It’s in the red, and let me tell you, he has it really bad for you.”
“Your ‘love-dar’? Really?” I ask.
“Yeah, it’s like gay-dar, but it’s love-dar. It’s strong in that one, my young apprentice.” He switches to a Star Wars voice.
“You hurt my head,” I say with a smile but rub my temples to add to the effect.
The door opens again, and Tobias walks out holding Chinese take-out containers. Dad follows with plates and cutlery. “There’s a lot of food there,” Jared says as Tobias places everything on the table. “What are you guys having?” He gathers them in front of him in a swoop and lowers his head over the food as if he’s holding them all hostage and takes an outrageously big sniff.
“That’s for all of us, Jared,” Dad snaps playfully.
“Oh, alright,” Jared grumbles, releases the hostages and sits back in his seat. “But if anyone touches the chicken fingers, you’ll have to answer to Mighty Tremendous.” He narrows his eyes in warning.
“What? Mighty Tremendous?” Tobias questions.
Jared holds his arms up, flexing his bicep muscles. Unfortunately for Jared, he has none. “These right here. This one is mighty,” he kisses his left arm, “and this one is tremendous.”
“Put that away before you hurt yourself, Jared,” Dad jokes.
Both Tobias and I laugh, and of course, the warning against the chicken fingers makes Tobias and I dive for them so Jared doesn’t get any.
“Hey!” he shrieks. “I said they’re mine.”
“You were too busy showing everyone those puny arms. They saw the opportunity and went for it,” Dad laughs.
Jared huffs and sinks back in his seat. “It sucks being lanky,” he mumbles.
“We should save him one,” I say to Tobias.
“Why? He can have the fried rice. There’s plenty of that to go around.”
Jared crosses his arms in front of his chest and sulks, which, of course, makes us chuckle.
“Lucky I got one especially for you,” Dad says and slides it over to Jared.
Jared’s eyes light up, and he leaps on the second container of chicken fingers so fast, you’d think he hadn’t eaten in a year. “Thanks, Mr. J.,” he manages to say through a mouthful of chicken.
“Kids.” Dad shakes his head as he gets his plate ready.
Dinner goes by quickly, but Jared is like a bottomless pit. Tobias, Dad, and I have finished, but Jared is st
ill eating. “How can you eat so much?” Tobias asks. “I’m a guy, and even I don’t eat that much. You haven’t taken a breath since dinner started.”
“It’s Chinese. Need I say more?” He looks to Tobias perplexed.
Tobias holds his hands up.
Dad stands and starts clearing the table, taking Jared’s plate away halfway through eating. “We still have cake, Jared. Save room for that.”
Jared winces as if in pain when Dad takes his plate. If there’s one thing I’ve seen Jared do, it’s inhale Chinese food. I love it, but he’s borderline obsessed with it. I find it amusing to watch him destroy it whenever we have it. He’s truly ravenous when he sees it.
“I better help your dad,” Jared says as he stands and stacks the dirty plates and empty containers. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” he says with a smile.
He heads inside, and Tobias and I are left here on our own. “Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?” he asks again.
“I’m not into birthdays. I don’t like anyone making a big deal about me.”
“But I want to make a big deal over you.”
“I just don’t…” I don’t finish the sentence. I look away from him, unable to tell him how I hate birthdays since Azael has been inside my head. Azael makes everything worse. He mocks anything good, and makes me feel guilty for being happy. But when I’m upset, he rubs his hands together and preys upon me.
“I get it. Birthdays aren’t your thing.”
“Yeah, I’m not a fan of them.”
“Happy birthday to you…” Dad’s holding a cake with the number ’18’ in candles, and Jared’s holding a stack of four plates, a knife and forks. All three of them break out into the ‘happy birthday’ song, and I plaster on my happy face. Though inside, I’m praying they don’t wake Azael up, and he doesn’t make an appearance.
With my heart thrashing around in my chest, and my fingers tightening around the arm of the chair, I smile and hope to get this part over as quickly as possible.
When they finish singing, I blow out the two candles, and Dad gives me a kiss on the cheek. “Here you go, sweetheart,” he says and hands me a small box.
“Dad, I don’t want anything.” I try to thrust it back to him. But he steps back, shaking his head,
“I can’t return, so you better open it.”
I open the box, and inside is a key. “What is it?” I ask, holding it up.
“I bought you a car,” Dad says, looking a cross between elated and apologetic. “It’s nothing flashy, but it’s reliable, and it’ll be what you need when you go to college. I want you to learn how to drive, and I figure this way… well, now you have to.”
He’s forcing independence on me. I know he’s doing what he thinks is a good thing. But I really don’t want to drive with Azael in my head.
I jump up out of my seat, and throw my arms around Dad. I know he means well, but he doesn’t have any idea of the ordeal I go through every day trying to fight him off. “Thank you,” I whisper. “Thank you.” I give him a kiss on his cheek and feel his stubble coming through. Stepping back, I wipe at his chin and smile. “You need to shave,” I say.
“Yeah, yeah I know. I was going for the sexy older guy look. You know, I might attract someone hot.” He waggles his brows at me.
“And that just grossed me out,” I laugh, even though I know Dad’s joking.
“Mr. J is cruising. Nice one,” Jared says. “Want me to give you a few pointers?”
“I’m not really cruising; I just haven’t shaved. And Jared, giving me pointers is useless, because I’m not interested in anyone.” Dad cuts into the rich chocolate cake he’s bought, and places pieces on the plates Jared’s handing him.
“Happy birthday, Ivy,” Jared says.
“Happy birthday, beautiful,” Tobias echoes then leans over to kiss my cheek.
I listen for Azael, and pray for him to stay away.
Dragging in a breath, I start to relax. He’s not here, which means I can enjoy the rest of my night without stressing that he’ll show up and ruin everything.
A girl can hope… right?
Chapter 13
“Did you hear what happened?” Jared asks as we walk to class.
It’s Wednesday, and thankfully, the day is nearly over. Since I kicked my demon out on Sunday, he’s been hanging around, trying to get my attention. And today isn’t a good day. He’s hovering, waiting to pounce.
“No, what happened?” I respond as we sit down in English class. Rubbing my temples, I can feel the onset of a headache. I get migraines occasionally, but only when the stress gets to the point where even he can’t help me.
“Tyler Lewis has been suspended.”
Surprised, I turn to look at Jared. “Tyler?” Jared nods his head. “Why?”
“Apparently, he took footage of the girls in the locker room.”
“Why would he do that?” I shake my head in doubt. “Tyler has always wanted to be a lawyer. And he’s trying to get into college on a scholarship. That’ll ruin his chances. What the hell was he thinking?” I say, still shocked.
“I know, right? Tyler Lewis, of all people.”
“How did he get caught?”
“Mrs. Richards caught him.”
“Huh?” I turn, surprised. “How?”
“Well, I heard Isabel telling Katie how Mrs. Richards had to step in and be the sport teacher yesterday because Coach had some kind of emergency. Anyway, long story short, Mrs. Richards went to the girls’ locker room, and saw him hanging around outside. She watched him, ‘cause she thought he was acting weird. Apparently, he was biting his nails and pacing back and forth, and when the girls left the locker room, he ran in and grabbed his phone. She caught him having recorded the girls.”
My mouth falls open, in both disgust and disbelief. “What. The. Hell?”
“Tell me about it.”
“But Tyler is straight As, a total book nerd. I mean he’s the most strait-laced person I know,” I nearly shout, still shocked.
“I know.”
“This will ruin not only his college chances, but also his scholarship chances.”
Jared shrugs. “Definitely college. I heard our principal had to report it to police.”
“Oh, shit,” I mumble and run my hand over my face. “What was he thinking?” I pinch the bridge of my nose.
“I know,” Jared says again. “You know what I thought, though?”
“What?”
“If he’s done it once, then I bet he’s done it before.”
“I don’t know, Jared. If he was nervous, and biting his nails and pacing, then maybe he hasn’t done it before, and he was petrified of getting caught.”
“Well, he definitely got caught. And now, he’s screwed. College won’t touch him, and if college won’t touch him, he ain’t going to law school.”
“I really can’t believe he did that. I mean, what made him think, ‘hey, let’s record the girls while they’re in the locker room’? What kind of creep does that?”
“I never took him for a creep, but I suppose it’s the quiet ones we gotta look out for.”
I scrunch my nose and open my laptop.
Tobias strides into the class room, and sits beside me where there’s a spare seat. “Hear about that Tyler kid?” he asks me.
“Yeah, Jared told me. What a stalker to record the girls in the change rooms.” I crinkle my nose, as a shiver rips through me. A cloud of doubt forms in my head. What if he has done this before, and he’s recorded me in there?
“Fucking sick,” he says. His eyes have glossed over, and his mouth is turned down in a frown. “People like him deserve prison.”
This seems to have affected Tobias quite strongly. “You okay?” I ask as I position my body so Jared can’t hear me.
“I’m fine. I just don’t like scum. And he’s scum.” Tobias is angry. His eyes alone would warn anyone to not go near him.
“Hey.” I grab his hand, and rub my thumb over the skin on th
e back of it. “You okay?” I ask again. This time I’m really concerned about him.
His gaze holds mine for a few seconds, before he looks down to where our hands are touching. “People like him make me sick. My mind goes in so many different places when I hear shit like this. I mean, what stops him taking it one step further and actually sexually abusing someone?”
I can’t help but agree with him. “We have to trust that he’d never do something like that.” Why am I defending him?
“Why not? He taped the girls in their own space. If he got away with it, why wouldn’t he progress to sexual assault?”
“I don’t know.” I look away from him, shrugging my shoulders slowly. “Maybe he’s not that kind of person.”
“Did you know he was recording the girls?”
“Of course not. It’s not that I don’t want to believe he did it, I…” I take a deep breath and try to gather my thoughts, “…I want to believe this is an isolated incident.”
“What if he has a little sister?” Tobias’s questions instantly churns my stomach. “Or a little brother?” This time his voice is much softer, as if he doesn’t want me to hear it. Quickly, I turn my head to look at him, but his head is down and he’s rubbing his temple with his free hand. Something deeper is bothering him, and although I shouldn’t ask, I really want to.
“Tobias?” I whisper to him. He turns his head; his eyes beg me not to say another thing. He’s not going to answer even if I ask, I can see the pleading stare. “It’s okay,” I say again.
This time, my words seem to do something to him. He nods his head and offers me a smile. It’s weak, but it’s there. “I know,” he replies.
“Class,” our English teacher announces as he walks in. It’s not our usual teacher; it’s someone else. “I’m Mr. Lester, and I’m the substitute this week. I’ve been brought up to date with where you are in the lesson plan, so let’s get started.”
The class hushes, and everyone either opens their laptops or their books. I look over at Tobias who’s gazing outside. His far-away stare tells me to leave him alone. When Mr. Lester starts talking, it takes Tobias a few moments to leave his troubled mindset and return his attention to class.
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