So Wrong So Right

by Erica Marselas

  I eventually fall into a restless sleep, after midnight when my tears have finally dried.

  The smell of stale beer and whiskey fills my nose, waking me from my troubled sleep. Colin’s strong arms wrap around my waist, and though I want to feel delighted he’s even here, the hurt from last night returns to the forefront of my mind. My hurt turns to rage, and I try to wiggle out of his hold, but he’s too strong.

  “What the fuck are you doing?” I whisper-yell, unsure of where our parents are. I’m sure my mother is due to come in soon to wake my ass up for shopping.

  “What does it feel like I’m doing?” He nuzzles into me and I elbow him in the stomach making him huff.

  “Get out of my bed.” I manage to move out of his hold and stand. “You think after the way you treated me you can just come in here and fuck me?”

  “Abbs, I’m so sorry.” He sits up in bed, with his hair all over the place. His eyes are bloodshot, and his clothes are a disheveled mess. Normally I would think he was cute, but all I want to do is bury him alive.

  “I don’t want to hear your lame apology again. Get the hell out of my face and out of my room.” I grab my phone from my charger wondering if this asshole ever decided to text me. I glance at my screen and see no new messages. Fucker.

  “We have to talk.”

  “Talk? Now you want to talk? When I came into your room asking you what was wrong, you didn’t want to talk then! When I texted you, twice, you didn’t want to talk then! But now you want to talk when it’s convenient for you? When you couldn’t even send me a simple text message to tell me you were alive?” I show him my blank screen, seething. “Instead of talking or texting me back, you were living it up at some party, getting wasted, am I right? Having the time of your life, forgetting that I have fucking feelings too. You can go to hell, Colin.”

  “God, Abigail. I’m so fucking sorry. I just wanted to get drunk and get away, to forget about the bullshit for a bit.”

  “I can understand that you needed to clear your head after what your father did, but you didn’t have to break my heart in the process. I’m not here at your disposal to just fuck and then act like I don’t matter to you. Now, leave or I swear I will scream and get my mother’s attention.”

  “You won’t even give me a chance to explain?” He moves off my bed and comes toward me.

  I step back, not wanting him in my space. “No, I won’t. If that’s what you really wanted to do maybe you should have texted me something like, ‘Hey, Abigail. I know I’m an asshole, but can we talk later? I promise I’ll explain. I’m sorry.’ Or something. Anything would have been better than you just ignoring my messages and making me feel like a dumbass for ever caring about you. Now get out of my room before my mother catches you in here.”

  “I’m sorry, Abbs. It might not mean shit right now, and I’m a selfish asshole for treating you the way that I have. You just have to know that I do care about you, more than you know. I don’t show it a lot, but I do. I just want you to know that.” Before I can even come up with anything coherent to say, he walks out of my room.

  Flopping back in my bed, his words resonate in my head. He cares more than I know. He’s never said it outright, but I know he does in his own weird way. But when he shuts down on me, ignores me, and acts like I’m just another girl, it hurts. If only he knew how much his words affect me because of how deeply I feel for him.

  And just when I thought I was done crying, I start again. I ask myself if I did the right thing by not responding after what he said, and without giving him a chance to explain.

  Rolling over, I take my phone out and scroll through my text messages. When I click his name and see all the unanswered texts from when he was too busy having fun. I can’t help but feel angry and hurt all over again.

  He can go rot in hell.

  I fling my backpack onto the dining room table when I arrive home after school. It’s been a long day and I dread finding out what I got on my calculus test. I studied for a week and when it came time for the test, all I could think about was Colin.

  How I missed him. How maybe I should’ve heard him out. How much I miss the way he kisses me. But most of all, how much he hurt me. When I think of the way he treated me at the theater and after his fight with his dad, it’s like my heart is constantly being put in the shredder.

  The man is going to make me fail, whether we’re together or not.

  Saturday I was able to avoid him by spending the day with my mother. Not every moment was awful. She tried to talk to me and find out what was going on in my life, but it was hard to be excited about anything when I felt like I’d been run over and flattened by a Zamboni. At least for a little bit, I caught a glimpse of my old mom. She’s like a rare species and I’m blown away every time I see it, but then Armageddon hit, and I had to kiss the glimpse goodbye. New Mom was back, and she had spent hours insulting the clothing choices I made, comparing them to Julia Roberts in Pretty Woman. I couldn’t help but wonder if Victor was whispering in her ear telling her I dressed like a hooker or a tramp.

  God knows, he’s said it to me.

  Then that night, I spent it at Sandy’s house and stayed until late Sunday afternoon. I ran into Colin that evening, and he asked if we could talk. I ended up darting around him, still not ready to speak to him and locked myself in my room.

  As if my weekend wasn’t already the worst, I ran into Dean today. He couldn’t even look me in the eye when I tried to ask him if we were okay and apologize for Colin. He eventually said we were fine, but I knew he no longer felt the same about me, and our friendship has been forever changed.

  If I even wanted that back up plan, it’s gone now anyways.

  Boisterous feminine laughter comes from the kitchen, and I go to investigate, wondering which of my mother's obnoxious friends is here today.

  I stop in my tracks when my mom is chatting it up to an attractive blonde who appears to be Colin’s age. She’s stunning with golden locks brighter than mine, a good body that makes me feel like I need Weight Watchers, and sparkling green eyes that make my hazels feel dull and lifeless.

  They’re both giggling and pointing at something in a magazine which is laying on the counter. The two are hitting it off like old friends.

  I can’t even remember the last time my mom and I laughed like that. If we ever laughed like that.

  Who the fuck is this skank?

  “Hi,” I announce myself into the room breaking up their chummy conversation.

  “Oh, Abigail. You’re home.” My mom puts her arm around the blonde Barbie. “This is Ashley. Colin’s girlfriend.”

  Girlfriend?

  I feel as I’ve been kicked in the gut and I’m having a hard time breathing. The world has fallen off its axis and I’m no longer in the correct universe. If my heart wasn’t shattered already from the other day, it is now, and it’s scattered all around my feet.

  “Ashley, this is Colin’s sister, Abigail.”

  Ashley comes over with her pearly white smile and puts out her hand for me to shake. “I've heard so much about you,” she gushes, and all I want to do is smack the smile off her face.

  You heard about me, huh? Like how Colin used to fuck me every morning? I highly doubt that.

  “I wish I could say the same,” I bite out bitterly and shake her hand. “Where is the numbnuts?”

  “Abigail,” my mom says, astonished.

  “What? He is my brother after all. Aren’t nicknames a rite of passage? Where is he?”

  That way I can kick his ass and shove my shoe up there as well, so he can taste the leather.

  “He’s with your dad in the garage. Can you help me set up for dinner?”

  I hate when she calls him my dad. That man will never be my dad.

  “Do I have to?” You have your new friend to help you, is what I want to say, but I manage to bite my tongue.

  “Yes!” she snaps at me, grabbing a stack of plates and thrusting them into my arms. “Go!” Pointing her long red ma
nicured finger out to the dining room.

  I resist all my urges to want to throw the plates across the room in a tantrum. But instead, I behave and set the table as asked. I’ll save my anger for someone else.

  I do hope my mother remembered the rat poison in Colin’s food tonight.

  Was he always with her or is this him moving on?

  I’m so tired of all these damn questions spinning in my mind. I’m tired of being treated like I’m nothing by virtually everyone. I thought I meant something to Colin, at least, even if we were fighting right now. I mean he said 'I do care about you, more than you know.' But how can I not think it wasn't all one big lie? The cherry on the mountain of lies we made together.

  Just why would he go out of his way to destroy me, use me, and break my heart?

  Because you’re nothing, Abbs, nothing.

  I put the final setting down, wiping away my tears. My mom is back to laughing with Ashley. I could be bleeding to death and I doubt she would even notice. Rushing out to the living room, I grab my book bag, and run to my room to let myself drown in a sea of tears.

  Colin is smart and avoids me because if he dared to come see me right now I would make sure he'd be singing soprano for the rest of his life.

  I clean my face off the best I can and make my way to the dining room where I plan on my soul being tortured for the next hour sitting next to Colin’s girlfriend.

  When I get to the landing of the stairs, Colin grabs my elbow and pushes me into the wall.

  “Don’t touch me,” I spit, trying to wiggle out of his hold.

  “Abigail, let me explain…”

  “Explain? Explain what exactly? That you’re a lying son of a bitch? Just fuck off, Colin. I don’t care what happens to you or your little girlfriend. I just need you to leave me alone.” I seethe through my teeth, trying not to draw attention to myself. But I’m so fucking angry and hurt that I can’t even see straight.

  “Baby, it’s not what you think...” He tries to coax me, putting his hand on my face. His touch, which used to bring me tingles, now feels as if it burns.

  “Not what I think? You got pissed about Dean when you thought I was just waiting around for him, and now here you are with a girlfriend. How long have you been using both of us? Or is it just me?”

  “It’s not what you think. It’s nothing—”

  Nothing. Nothing. I hate that damn word!

  The inferno that has been raging in my veins is set off by hearing that damn word again, and I explode.

  Like slow motion my hand makes contact with his cheek, leaving a stinging sensation on my palm. My jaw drops as I realize what I just did. His cheek is red, outlined with my handprint, above the tinge of purple left by Victor.

  I hit him. I’ve hit him like his dad does.

  He touches his cheek, wide-eyed, staring at me in shock as if he doesn’t know me. But maybe he doesn’t.

  “I’m—”

  He holds his hand up to me and my mouth snaps shut. “Don’t,” he growls and pushes past me towards the dining room.

  I’m shaking so bad from what just transpired. He didn’t deserve my slap, no matter how mad or how hurt I am. It’s not like he hasn’t been trying to talk to me for days. Not that anything he would’ve said would have made me feel better about him having a girlfriend.

  Something I never was to him.

  My heart races and I'm doing my best to take deep cleansing breaths to prepare from my doom. How am I going to make it through this night?

  When I enter the dining room, I’m just in time to watch Colin pull out a chair for Ashley and tuck her in. He then sits down beside her and gives her a reassuring smile. I feel sick to my stomach watching this.

  “Sit, Abigail,” Victor says gruffly from the head of the table. I fall into my chair, shrinking myself away. My mom sits down next to me and hands me the plate of chicken. All of which have been sliced for perfect portion control, so we don’t get fat.

  “Abbs, sit up straight, you don’t want a hump from your bad posture. I mean look at Ashley,” she praises, and I feel myself getting mad all over again. But this time, I want to stab my fork into my mother’s leg.

  “Oh, I’m far from having good posture,” Ashley says, and when I do look at her, she shifts in her seat. I’m glad to see she’s at least uncomfortable by the compliment. I straighten myself out and look back down at my plate.

  “Nonsense, those years of modeling did you well.”

  Oh, god, she’s a model too.

  Yep, I’m nothing compared to her now.

  I tune everything out around me and pick up my fork. I push my food around, my appetite non-existent. God knows my mother thinks I need to lose a few pounds now.

  Once I gather my courage to glance up at Colin, I notice him doing the same with his food. My handprint no longer lingers on his face, which hopefully means it wasn’t as hard as it felt. He looks my way, expressionless, and I quickly look away just in case it changes into something I don’t want to see.

  “So, how long have you two been together?” Victor asks pointing his fork at Ashley and Colin. However, his beady eyes glance my way and my head drops to stare back down at my plate.

  “Three months,” Colin answers and my fork clamors to my plate.

  What was left of my sanity has left the building. I’m not even sure why, but laughter bubbles from my throat, making me sound like the crazy witch from Snow White. Maybe it’s some defense mechanism to keep me from crying again. God knows my heart that was left on the kitchen floor earlier, has just been crushed once again. The pieces are now dust.

  “You’ve been dealing with this buffoon for three months. Brave woman.” I joke, still giggling. “I’m guessing his body odor isn’t an issue for you?”

  Colin’s piercing gaze bores into my head, but I recover my fork and go back to enjoy making my mashed potato mountain as if there's nothing wrong.

  “Abigail be nice.” My mom touches my arm. “You'll have to excuse my daughter. She’s a bit of a jokester.”

  “It’s fine Mrs. W,” Ashley says waving her off.

  “Mrs. W?” I remark with a snort and a roll of my eyes.

  Mrs. W? She sounds ridiculous.

  “How did you two meet?” Victor changes the subject back to the asshole and his pet.

  “We met at a party. We talked and hit it off right away.” I look up just in time to see Colin smile at Ashley and grab her hand. I’m doing everything I can to keep my stomach contents in while looking at this puke fest displayed in front of me.

  I destroy my mashed potato mountain, beating it down like every blow I’ve gotten today, as they make small talk. It seems Mom and Victor have hit it off with Ashley. All while Colin is smiling like a dufus at her. I guess I should’ve seen this coming. Did I expect our little affair to last?

  Pushing back my chair, it makes an awful scratching noise across the wood floor. Throwing my napkin on my plate, I rise to my feet. “I’m not feeling well. I think I’m just going to go to bed.”

  “Oh, honey. Do you want me to get you something?” my mother pipes up, drawing her attention away from her promising future daughter-in-law. Well, step-daughter-in-law.

  “No, I’m fine. You guys enjoy the rest of your meal with the new member of the family,” I say sweetly, putting on my best smile, before making my exit.

  Hours later I’m still stewing. I can’t believe he did this to me. Next time I see him, I’m going to rip him to shreds. My mom checked on me before she went to bed, to make sure I was okay. I told her I was fine and had a stomach bug. But leave it to my mother to make matters worse, gloating about how much she loved Ashley and thought she was perfect for Colin. The final stab to my gut was when she told me he took her home. He’s been gone for over two hours now.

  My imagination is running wild picturing Colin with Ashley, wondering if he’s doing the same things he’s done with me with her.

  How many times had he claimed to be hanging out with the guys and all along he wa
s with her?

  Rat bastard.

  There’s a light knock on my door at a little after eleven, and I wonder what my mother wants. If she wants to rub Colin’s perfect relationship in my face I might need a straitjacket.

  When I open the door, I come face to face with an angry, red-faced, step-brother. I try to push the door closed, but it’s no use, and he pushes it open, making me stumble back. He closes the door and locks it. He turns towards me and the look in his eye unnerves me, but I’m ready for this fight.

  I won’t back down. I won’t let him intimidate me. I can’t let him break me anymore.

  “What the hell was that tonight?” he hisses and moves to stand right in front of me.

  “You have some nerve to say that to me. You’ve been fucking me for two months but failed to mention you have a girlfriend. Does she know that you used to fuck me every day? That you used to get your jollies off by fucking your step-sister? Or was the excitement in that I was a sweet little sixteen-year-old virgin with a tight pussy? Is her pussy a cave and that's why you came to me?” The venom shoots out of my mouth uncontrollably. I’m fuming, my vision is red, there’s steam coming out of my ears, and I’m ready to combust.

  I’m so angry.

  But most of all, I’m hurt.

  “Abigail,” he says softly and his shoulders sag as if the fight is leaving him. But I can’t even begin to make sense of it because my vision is still tinted red.

  “I can't believe I trusted you. I gave myself to you and you've been playing me. Was I anything to you? Did you laugh when you blew off our date for some party? Was she there to take care of you while I stayed home and cried? Did you get some sick thrill knowing how much I cared for you? That all I wanted was to get to know you better? All I wanted—” I choke back the words. There’s no way I can tell him how I truly feel about him. I'm nothing to him. A rush of tears fall from my eyes. Hot angry tears, that sting my cheeks.

  I trusted him.

  “Abigail. Stop!” he snaps at me. He's getting pissed again, but I don't care. He hasn’t seen pissed yet. I’m on a fucking roll. I won’t be done until I expel every little thing that's been eating away at my brain for five days.