by Vera Hollins
Okay. I can do this.
One, two, three, four.
“I’m tired of being a coward.” I sang the words tentatively, which resulted in a weak voice and bright red cheeks.
I closed my eyes and cleared my throat as I played the soul-wrenching notes. I had to forget about my shame. There was no place for it now.
I’m tired of being a coward
Wasting my life on nothing at all
All those lost chances
All because of my fear
I feel so small
A paradox that ensnares
I’m between happiness and pain
But I’m repeating my mistakes
And everything is in vain
I’m so foolish
So foolish, yeah
I’m a coward, but then I’m not
I’m a girl who wants a way out
Of the problems and the pain
So she won’t have to run off in shame
My fear, all that fear
Cutting me, creating doubts
And everything is in vain
I’m so foolish
So foolish, yeah
I strummed faster, emotions resonating within me, pouring out of me.
I’m a coward, but then I’m not
I’m a girl who wants a way out
Of the problems and the pain
So she won’t have to run off in shame
I’m so foolish, so foolish, yeah
I want to fight
And cure my lows with light
But I’m so foolish
Losing it all
I want to wake up and be strong
I used vibrato on the G string and plucked the strings, playing the last notes. Just like always, I was immersed in my music, unaware of everything and everyone as the song carried me somewhere far away, and it was the closest I could get to complete bliss and peace.
My eyes still closed, I played the last note and smiled as silence wrapped around me. I felt like I was on top of the world, invincible. Music pumped through my veins and filled me with happiness that was larger than life. This was all I’d ever wanted.
Loud claps broke out, and I snapped my eyes open, remembering I had an audience. Mel and Sar watched me with stars in their eyes and smiles as big as mine, but Hayden was nowhere to be found. I looked around for him and let out a startled gasp.
He stood in the arched doorway…right next to Blake.
Blake’s eyes were liquid fire as he watched me, stripping me of everything. His face had an expression I’d never seen before—all traces of his constant disdain gone—and it was like I was seeing a completely different person. My heart throbbed, bound to him in a world where no one existed but us.
“That was amazing, girl! Bravo!” Mel was the first to break the spell, and I tore my gaze away from him. Mortification filled every inch of me.
Blake was here. He’d heard me sing. He’d seen me play guitar. He was here, and he’d heard every goddamn word that had spilled out of me.
Oh hell no.
Unable to look anyone in the eyes or stay here a moment longer, I did the only thing that came to mind—I grabbed my guitar and jacket and fled from the house.
My parents had invited all our relatives from Bridgeport—more than twenty of them—to a Sunday BBQ to celebrate my college acceptance. The weather was on our side, allowing us to jam-pack our small back yard and spend time outside until the evening.
My dad, never one to miss a chance to give a speech, repeated a bunch of times how lucky he was to have such a good and responsible daughter who was going to follow in his footsteps. I couldn’t look at anyone when he said he’d never been more proud of me. My stomach churned with guilt and a fierce need to tell him I didn’t want to go to his or any other law college.
Each smile and laugh I shared with my parents and relatives felt fake and shallow, and a voice inside screamed at me to take the bull by the horns and stop this gigantic charade.
I didn’t say a word, but I promised myself I would tell them by the end of this month. I’d tell them I would finish music school and become a singer. I had weeks to find the guts.
Now all I had to do was conquer my fear of performing in public, which was even tougher when Blake was included. My moment of triumph had been cut short when our eyes met across Hayden’s living room, and I’d felt more vulnerable in front of him than ever. I had probably looked like a serial killer was after me when I rushed to my car and passed Masen, who had arrived at that time.
Mel had left me a dozen messages, checking up on me. She’d even said she should kick Blake where the sun doesn’t shine.
Did Blake say anything after I left? I texted her.
Nope. He was serious as the Statue of Liberty.
He didn’t mock me?
Nope x2.
Sarah had also texted and told me I was awesome and there was nothing I should be ashamed of.
I wasn’t ashamed. Okay, I was a little ashamed, but most of that shame came from the fact that Blake had witnessed a very personal moment I’d never have chosen to share with him.
I didn’t even want to imagine the taunts that would come out of it. He would eat me alive. Sure, he hadn’t said anything in front of my friends, but it would have been silly of me not to expect him to give me a hard time at school.
What was Blake even doing there? I messaged Sarah.
He and Masen came to pick Hayden up to go out.
Of all times? I’m so unlucky.
They usually hang out on weekends. But I wouldn’t call it unlucky, because he looked floored by your performance. You should’ve seen him when he saw you.
My heart drummed wildly as I reread her message time and time again. I wanted to ask her for all the details, but that felt desperate even to me, so I refrained myself from asking anything. But oh boy, did I want to know.
On Sunday night, I gave in to my curiosity and went to Blake’s Instagram before I hit the sack. I must have been a glutton for punishment because there was no other way to explain why I was compelled to scroll through his photos in search of…what?
His account was all about parties and moments with different girls or friends, and all of the photos painted a picture of a bad boy life. Cigarettes, booze, fast cars, and bikes—it was a world so foreign to me, yet I was enthralled by it. I was drawn to the adrenaline and danger he seemed to experience every day, unable to forget his pain on that basketball court in the gym when he cried for Emma, whoever she was. That pain was unlike anything I’d witnessed, so deep it had completely changed the way I saw him.
He was a mystery I would never get to unfold. He was an abuser who didn’t deserve a single thought, but he had it and much more every waking moment. What did that make me? A fool? A hopeless romantic? A stupid girl with a way-too-big heart? Maybe all three together.
I scrolled back to the top of his profile and looked at his bio, which had just a single sentence.
You live only to encounter pain.
I slipped under my covers and closed my eyes. I willed myself to forget about him, but my mind was the weakest right before I drifted off to sleep, always wafting to him.
This time it was all about the moment we’d shared in that closet at the New Year’s Eve party. A drunk me thought it would be a great idea to play seven minutes in heaven. Blake wasn’t even playing the game, but he was sitting right behind an empty spot in the circle. So when someone spun the bottle, it ended up pointing at him.
I expected him to refuse. He wasn’t playing and it was me he would have to take to the closet, but he didn’t refuse. He stood up and pulled me after him, shocking me. Before my shock could wear off, he pushed me inside the closet and closed the door behind him.
He backed me into the wall, and even in the complete darkness, I could feel his lips painfully close to mine. I could smell alcohol on his breath, mixed with mint and a taste that was purely his. He placed his hands on my waist, and through a fog, I sensed the panic that he was
going to feel my stomach fat and see for himself just how fat I was. It was short-lived because my desire took over and pushed my insecurity aside. It was hard for me to pretend I didn’t like him this close to me.
“What are you doing?” I asked, my thoughts and senses in a state of disarray. Everything was happening so fast, and what I thought I knew about Blake turned into nothing as his short breaths fanned my face.
“What both of us want,” he said.
He buried his head in my neck and kissed it slowly, in a way that awoke my every single nerve and made me pliable under his mouth and hands. It was tantalizing. It was mind-numbing. It was absolutely wonderful, and I found myself gripping his hair.
He groaned in response and ran his hands through my hair, pressing himself against me. I could feel how much he desired me, the clear evidence flush against my stomach. I threw my inhibitions and doubts out the window and clung to him, starving for his kiss.
He left a line of kisses that stopped right next to my lips as a way of taunting me. I moaned in response, a second away from kissing him.
“What? You thought I was going to kiss you?” His breath caressed my lips softly. “Think again.”
If I’d been sober, I would have drawn away from him as if he’d slapped me. I would have refused to touch him for a moment longer.
But I didn’t.
Spurred on by alcohol and an overwhelming desire, I crushed my lips to his, surprising us both.
He didn’t need even a second to respond; he gave in to me in a way that seemed like he’d been suppressing something for so long until he couldn’t anymore. He grabbed my face and pushed me further against the wall, his moans creating strong sensations in my stomach. We couldn’t contain ourselves as our hands roamed across our bodies restlessly, and it was leaving me breathless and needy for more. Much, much more.
Minutes passed—or maybe an eternity—before he pulled away from my lips, panting just like me. He threaded his fingers through my hair and leaned his forehead against mine. He was breathing heavily as the silence stretched on and on…
Until his body grew stiff.
“No,” he said in a voice dripping with regret as he removed his hands from me. “Fuck no.”
“Blake?”
He didn’t answer for a second, two, three…ten. And then he released a chuckle that cut me deep.
“So not only are you fat, you’re also easy.” This time I recoiled, appalled by the complete change in his actions. “First, Burks. Now, me. Who’s next?”
I couldn’t speak. The first tears had already found their way down my cheeks.
He let out another chuckle. “I didn’t even need to do anything to have you eating out of my hand. So easy.”
“I…I hate you.” It was all I could say, but I managed to pour all my resentment into it.
He snorted. “What else is new?”
I pushed him to the side and lurched toward the door. I was about to open it when he said, “Happy New Year, Fats. And learn how to kiss better.”
I hit my fists against the mattress. I was reliving those minutes as if they were happening right now. I was a masochist, tormenting myself with memories that would only bring me pain.
What hurt the most was that it had been one of the best moments of my life. For a few blissful seconds, I’d felt closer to him than anyone, and it had mended all my scars. There was no better way to start a new year.
Only, he’d managed to destroy it, cruelly reminding me that we would always remain enemies. Our kiss meant everything to me. It meant nothing to him.
And now, three months later, I was still stuck between my feelings for him and my reason. If only things could have been different.
If only I could be free.
Monday morning rolled slowly by. Too slowly. I was mentally exhausted and bored by lectures, and I counted the minutes until lunchtime. Kev had texted me to tell me not to wait for him because he had to run some errand for his Spanish teacher, so Mel and I were the first to get to the cafeteria. Mel kept staring at me for some reason, and it was getting hard to ignore it. I went for roasted veggies, thinking about my calorie intake.
I thought about what Susan had told me before. I understood it better now, and it wiped away some of the shame I felt for craving unhealthy food.
“You’re stressing yourself over whether you’re eating the right or wrong foods, which can have bad consequences for your health. Food isn’t your enemy. So instead of depriving yourself of the foods you like, think about balance and moderation.”
Okay, maybe pizza contained extra calories, but I’d feel even more miserable if I had to deprive myself of every single food I liked. Maybe I should finally give that balance thing a try, instead of giving up on all the foods I liked.
I repeated one of Susan’s mantras to myself, feeling more comfortable about it: all choices had consequences, but instead of regretting them, I should take responsibility for them, enjoy them while they lasted, and then see how to continue from there.
“What?” I asked Mel when we brought our trays to our table and sat down.
“You like Blake,” she stated, no hesitating whatsoever.
A stupid blush covered my whole face. “No, I don’t,” I denied quickly.
I’d told Sar about my feelings for Blake because she’d been through the same thing and could understand me better. Mel, on the other hand, was not so understanding or tolerant, having been anti-Hayden until only recently. She would never approve of Blake.
“And now you’re lying to me.”
“I’m not.” Another lie.
“Look, it’s pointless to deny it. The sooner you accept it, the better for you.”
My jaw almost dropped. “You won’t criticize me? Not that I’m interested in him or anything.” I wasn’t a good liar at all.
She sighed and rested her face against her hand, picking at her French fries. “I did that a lot with Sar, and what good did it bring? I just want you to be careful. Blake is not a good person. He can seriously hurt you.”
Her words were the truth, but my chest ached nevertheless. “And how do you know that?”
“Because I’ve seen how brutal he can be. I can show you, if you want, so you’ll see it firsthand too.”
“Show me what?”
She bit into her fry. “His life in the gang.”
Gang. Yet another proof of how wrong I was to like him of all people. I didn’t know much about that aspect of his life, but it was enough for me to draw a conclusion that he lived extremely dangerously and was associated with all kinds of lowlifes.
“You want me to see him fighting?” I was surprised she would suggest something like this.
“Actually, I’m talking about racing. There’s this race on Thursday Steven won’t stop talking about. It will bring the first three places a tidy sum. So, we can go there, and you’ll see for yourself what kind of life Blake leads. Maybe it will change the way you see him.”
I doubted it would make a difference since I already saw him in bad light.
I bit at the cuticle on my thumb. “Are you sure it’s safe for two high school girls to go out there all by themselves?”
She snorted. “Please. I used to go there all alone and drag Steven out of their lairs, so this is nothing. Sarah also came with me once before Hayden got jumped out. Besides, no one will even notice us at the track. People there only care about the racers and their cash.”
I shuddered at the thought of getting jumped out. I could only imagine what Sarah had gone through the night she witnessed Hayden take a beating from several gang members, which happened only a month after he got out of coma and recovered from a serious car accident. She wasn’t the same after that, spending days in the hospital next to Hayden, who had been in a critical condition.
If Blake wanted to leave the gang, he would have to get jumped out too. I inhaled a deep breath as a pang of concern hit my chest.
“Fine. You’ve convinced me.”
“Good. I’ll u
se this opportunity to keep an eye on Steven.”
“Why?”
“Because that idiot could be risking his life with the way he’s acting right now. He’s dead set on racing this Thursday. I argued with him and tried to knock some sense into his empty head, but he’s like a train in motion. I can’t stop him.”
She frowned and crammed a few fries into her mouth. Only now did I notice she looked like she hadn’t slept a wink the previous night.
“What’s with the sour mood?” I asked her. “You don’t look good.”
“Tell me about it. I stuffed myself with energy drinks until I was ready to die from diarrhea.”
I giggled. “Oh no. Not diarrhea.”
“Everyone’s worst enemy.” She ran her hand through her hair and exhaled a sigh of exhaustion. “Steven and I had a huge fight last night.”
“Why?”
“I found coke under his bed and flushed it down the toilet.”
“Oh gosh.”
She ran her hand across her face. “He went crazy and acted like he was ready to be admitted to a mental hospital.”
“I can’t believe he’s using coke.”
“Coke, heroin, LSD…you name it. He’s getting worse, and it’s scary. Up until now, my mom always gave him big allowances, but now that she bought us a new house, we have to cut down our expenses a lot. So she finally refused to give him more money.”
I swallowed a piece of broccoli. “Finally.”
“Yeah, but—surprise, surprise, Steven doesn’t like that. He can’t spend a day without drugs, so he’s in a pinch. He needs to find cash, which brings us to that race on Thursday.”
I took another bite of the vegetables. “Does your mom know about it?”
“Steven threatened me and made me promise not to tell her anything.”
“He threatened you? How?”
“He said he’d run away from home if I ratted on him.”
“I’m so sorry, Mel. I wish I could help you.”
“I know. You should’ve seen him last night. It was worse than a horror movie. He was terribly aggressive.”