by Amy Sumida
They all sat there studying me.
“Really guys, drop it. Please.”
I reached into my bag to pull out my lunch when I remembered the extra sandwich for Bishop. I passed it to him.
“I made this for you,” I mumbled, my face heating with embarrassment. “I noticed you were always hungry yesterday.”
He gaped at the sandwich like I gave him the keys to a solid gold Ferrari. “You made me a sandwich?”
I nodded.
He turned to the rest of the table. “Guys, she made me a sandwich.”
Their eyes flashed from him to me, and Matt muttered something about this being all he needed.
Bishop turned me to him. “I accept.”
I blinked in confusion. “Accept what?”
“Your proposal. I’ll marry you.”
For the first time in my life, I was physically taken aback. “I didn’t propose, I made you a sandwich.”
“Same thing. It’s basically a declaration of undying love.”
Jaidon reached up from his book and smacked Bishop on the back of the head. Bishop shrugged and flapped his hands at Jaidon.
“Okay, we won’t get married, and I’ll share you with the bros, but only because they’ll be heartbroken if I take you away.” He leaned in closer to me and whispered, “Besides, I’ll always know you love me the most.” He winked and took a bite of his sandwich.
I turned toward the rest of the table. “What did I do?”
Stetson leaned into me. “Don’t worry, we’ll protect you.”
Strangely, his declaration didn’t put me at ease.
English class was fun. Mr. Keeler pulled out a bunch of white boards, and we took turns describing characters from the stories we read last night in three syllable words. My personal favorite of, “gob-smacked fool,” came from a mousy girl across the class. I made plans with Bishop to go to his house after school to study.
Chemistry went by pretty quickly. We got to play with the lab equipment today, making sure we knew how to use everything. I even managed to avoid David, making my day even better.
Stetson found me in the hallway after class and took my backpack. He slung it on his back and put his arm gently around my waist. When we got to Art class, Mrs. Ellis instructed us to draw something which reminded us of someone we love. It seemed like a convoluted assignment, but the more I got into it, the more I liked it.
I spent almost an hour in my sketching zone, trying to draw my mom’s old coffee mug. White with black lettering across the front proclaiming I’m a bad girl, I read past my bedtime. She carried her treasured mug around with her everywhere, especially in the mornings. I remembered her taking a cup of coffee into the shower with her. She said it helped her wake up and remember to shampoo her hair. I found myself engrossed in putting the finishing touches on the shading on the chip in the rim when the bell rang.
Without a thought, I showed Stetson. He smiled and showed me a sketch of the ugliest Barbie doll in the history of Barbie dolls. The thing only had one shoe on and someone drew makeup all over her face. Presumably, the same someone gave Barbie a homemade haircut. Truly tragic. I wondered if there was a Therapist Barbie to help other Barbies with PTSD.
I laughed, but when I glanced at Stetson, he seemed depressed. I grabbed his hand. “Hey, what’s wrong?”
“Bad memories.” He squeezed my hand and busied himself cleaning up our assorted mess.
We ran into the other guys in the hallway.
Matt patted my head. “I’ll ride with you to our house so you don’t get lost.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.” I playfully batted at his hand to get it away from my head.
Matt walked with me to my car and stopped when I froze. Taped to my driver’s side window hung a picture of a cow with my face where its head should be. After everything I’ve endured in my life, I allowed myself to be hurt by a stupid picture, but I did without understanding why.
“Damn David,” I whispered as I ripped it off my car and balled it up. Peering around, I threw my hand over my mouth once I realized he didn’t plaster every car in the lot with the picture. Doing so might get him suspended and hurt his permanent record.
I tried really hard not to tear up, but I couldn’t stop it. I spent a good chunk of my life trying to survive my father, so I didn’t have anything left to put up with crap like this. “It shouldn’t bother me so much.” I sniffled as Matt pulled me into him. “I know he’s trying to get in my head and screw with me.”
“I’ll kill him,” Matt said.
“No, that’s not necessary.” I tried to smile up at him. “Maiming him would be sufficient.” I giggled sadly.
“Done.” He joked. At least, I hope he’s joking.
He put his hands on my face. “You’re beautiful, Joey.”
I snorted.
“Really. Absolutely beautiful.” He put his forehead on mine and whispered to me. “The first time I saw you, I wanted to kiss you. Your mouth was made for me to kiss it, and it’s killing me not to kiss you right now. But I won’t because I refuse for you to think the only reason I kissed you was to make you think I think you’re pretty.”
His fingers speared into my hair. “And, I’ll be damned if the first time I kiss you is in a school parking lot, with you in tears over something some douche bag did because he knows he’ll never be good enough to get you. The first time I kiss you, it’ll be when you know that, to me, you are the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen and I have to kiss you to keep from screaming that to the whole world.”
He lifted up, and pressed his lips against my forehead. Not a kiss, but a comfort.
“You good?”
I sniffled up at him and took comfort from his strong arms around me. Fuck David.
“Yeah, I’m good.”
Matt opened the car door for me, and I slipped behind the wheel.
He got in, and his karma must have rubbed off on my car because it started on the second try.
As I pulled out of the parking lot, I glanced over at him.
“Hey, Matt, you know I was kidding about maiming him, right?”
He chuckled.
When I pulled up to the house Matt directed me to, I had to control my shock. It sat outside of town, and it was a huge two-story with the first floor easily twice the size of my house. I glanced at Matt. “Big house.”
“Yeah, Dad has money.”
“Which one?”
He laughed. “You know one of them’s a teacher, right?”
I gazed in wonder at the beautiful house. A light shade of gray with yellow shutters, it brought to mind an old farmhouse, only about quadruple the size. A gorgeous wraparound porch with comfy furniture situated into a nice conversation area near a porch swing hugged the house.
Matt opened the door and stepped in. Laughing came from somewhere inside. Matt led me into the kitchen, where the guys stood all lined up along the bar’s counter watching the other dad scrub at the refrigerator.
“Then,” the guy said, “he refused to die. I thought I killed him yesterday, but no.” He scrubbed harder. “And now, I don’t know what to do with him. I’m stuck. Completely blocked.”
Alex laughed even louder. “Dad, you’ll figure it out. You always do.”
I started to ease out of the room. The guy was talking about killing someone. I didn’t want to be there. I ran into Matt, and he put his arms around me and cleared his throat.
Everyone turned toward me, and the dad gasped. He threw down the sponge and grabbed a towel to wipe his hands.
“Hello, dear, I’m Daniel. It’s good to see you again.” He held his hand out toward me. I stared at it.
It took him a second before he got it. “Oh, no. I’m a writer. I tried to kill off a character, but I’m having difficulties. I’m so sorry if I scared you.”
I finally let out the breath I didn’t realize I’d held. I reached out and shook his hand.
Daniel chuckled. “And you are?”
I shook my head. “Oh, s
orry, I’m Joey.”
“Well, Joey, you should have seen your face.” He laughed a little under his breath.
Alex came over to me and gave me a hug, pulling me out of Matt’s arms. “Joey, this is Dad. Dad, this is Joey.” He turned to me. “Don’t worry about Dad. He’s convinced his characters are real people with emotions and motives. When he gets writer’s block, he cleans like a maniac and rants.”
“Okay.” I didn’t know what else to say, so I scanned my eyes across everyone.
Stetson sidled over and wrapped an arm around my shoulders, giving me a squeeze. “Joey’s here to study with us for English.”
Daniel gasped in shock. “Oh, no.” He glared at all the guys. “Why would you do that to her?”
“Excuse me?” I asked.
Daniel kept scolding the boys. “You know he’s twice as hard on you all. Why would you bring someone else into that?”
Jaidon walked over and grabbed my hand. Swinging it gently, he said, “She can handle it.”
Bishop laughed. “She’ll have to if I’m going to marry her.”
Daniel’s head whipped toward him so fast I could almost hear the air move. “Come again?” He crossed his arms over his chest.
Bishop’s chest puffed out like a proud papa. “She made me a sandwich.”
Matt groaned. Daniel met my eyes and goggled at me. “Well Joey, dear, he’s yours now. Didn’t your parents ever tell you not to feed strays?”
Bishop’s chest deflated. “Hey!”
Daniel waved his hands at us. “Go on now, go study. If she’s got to keep up with your level then you’re going to need all the time you can get.”
“Is he trying to be insulting?” I whispered to Jaidon, who still held my hand.
“No, he’s being serious.” He gave my hand a squeeze, then dropped it. “Dad is always hardest on us. He knows we have the ability, and he won’t accept less than our best. Now, that will include you, sorry.” He paused for a second. “Okay, well, I’m not really sorry, but you get what I mean.”
“No problem, I always give my best.” I playfully bumped my shoulder into his as I grinned and tugged on his hand.
I followed the guys into a living room. A huge, u-shaped couch took up the majority of the room with a giant, flat screen hanging on the wall in front of it. Spotting the over-sized coffee table, I marched over to it, sat down, and held out my hand to Matt for my bag. It was still on his back from where he carried it in for me.
He placed the bag next to me and lowered himself to the space on my left. Jaidon took up the spot across from me. Bishop and Stetson sat on the couch behind me and Alex sat next to Jaidon. We pulled our books out and started studying.
A couple of hours later, Daniel stuck his head in and called, “Dinner’s ready, and Joshua will be home any minute. Go wash up, and set the table.”
“I guess I better go,” I mumbled, putting my books back in my bag.
“No way,” Alex said, and before I could move, he jumped over the table and landed in a squat next to me. “You have to eat with us. Then, we can watch a movie.”
I gazed up into his brown eyes, and my breath caught. He was smiling down at me, and his face glowed with happiness. “Sure.” I didn’t hold the power to say no and kill the twinkle in his eyes.
He went to help me up and froze. His entire face changed in a split second, shocking me. He glowered, his jaw clenched, and his eyes burned. I didn’t know what I did to make him mad. He pulled me to my feet, then reached for my neck.
My scarf came loose, and he pulled it lower. Gasps filled the room, and I’m pretty sure Matt said, “Fuck.”
Being confronted by the fury on Alex’s face threw me. He was the happy one, always laughing and joking. He brushed the finger marks on my neck. “Did you get these falling down the stairs, too?”
Without hesitation, I ran for it.
I found myself out of the house and in my car before I could wonder what to do if it didn’t start. Luckily, it did, and I took off for my house, passing Mr. Keeler’s car as it came down the driveway.
Chapter Four
Saved
Well, crap, what do I do now? As my heart pounded, I fought for air. I needed to run because the pity and anger on their faces broke me inside. There was nothing they could do, nothing anyone could do.
How was I going to face them ever again? Simple, I couldn’t. I needed to push them out of my life. Even though I’d only known them for a couple of days, the idea of never spending time with them again hurt more than it should.
When I got home, I sat in the silence of my car for a minute. I can go back to being on my own for a few more months since I’d done it for the past four years.
Somehow, though, I almost wished I never met the guys at all. Knowing them, being a part of their group, even for a little while, would make the loneliness even worse. Suffocating loneliness pressed down on me as I considered my option.
When I got out of the car, I went straight to my room and flopped down on the bed trying to escape today. Closing my eyes to block out the world, I fell asleep.
My door slamming open startled me awake. Dad stood in my doorway, outlined by the hall light. His tie hung loosely around his neck, and his shirtsleeves rolled up above his elbows. His hair fell across his head, askew, and a furious expression filled his face. This was bad. “You lazy, bitch. In here sleeping when there’s chores to be done?”
I tried to get off my bed, but the fuzziness of sleep held me still. Because I didn’t move quick enough, my dad grabbed my arm and jerked me up. My head reared back from the punch in the face he delivered. Metallic tasting blood from my lips seeped into my mouth. Securing a fistful of my hair, he slammed me into the wall. The pain echoed through my head. My teeth sank into the inside of my lip, and I spit out the mouthful of blood.
He leaned into me, and the stench of beer on his breath even heavier than last night blows across my face and through my hair. “You stupid, lazy, good for nothing.”
As he dragged me down the hallway, he yelled, “What did I tell you? You do your chores first thing. Didn’t I make that clear last time?” He threw me into the kitchen counter. The pain from my impact radiated through my gut. He shoved my face into the sink, where my knife and plate from this morning waited. Stupid. I should have washed them this morning.
“Why are there still dishes in the goddamn sink?” Dad jerked me back up to yell in my face.
“Why isn’t dinner cooking?” He punched me again.
“Why are you always so damn useless?” He slapped me across the face, and I went down. My dad may not be as buff as Matt or Daniel, but he’s bigger than me. I couldn’t hold my own against him, learning my limitations the hard way four years ago. When I hit the floor, I yelled out because something twanged in my left wrist.
Instead of walking away once I hit the ground, he kicked me. I curled into a ball to protect my stomach and face. His foot landed on my thigh hard enough to make my leg numb. Unable to hold it in anymore, I screamed.
The sound of me crying and begging my dad to stop was suddenly overshadowed by the sound of the kitchen door being kicked open and slamming into the wall. A dark blur flew over me and tackled my dad to the floor. Grunting and pounding filled the air, and I peered up from where I cowered on the floor.
Stetson straddled my dad, beating the ever-loving shit out of him.
My dad grunted and tried to hit back, but his swings bounced off the mountain of fury on top of him. Stetson continued to hit, as he pinned my dad on his back to the floor. The scariest thing about it was the expression on his face. Pure, unadulterated rage covered Stetson’s face which scared me because he didn’t say a thing as he beat my father.
Realizing Stetson wasn’t going to stop until he killed my dad, I knew I needed to stop him.
“Stetson,” I gasped, not knowing how to get through to him. I reached out for him.
It turns out all I needed to do was talk. At this point, Dad lay barely conscious, and my voi
ce broke through whatever spell Stetson fell under. He focused on me and growled. He came to me and put his hands on my face.
“Are you okay? Where are you hurt?” His hands gently moved over my face to my split lip. He checked out my arms, and before I could stop him, he raised my shirt and got a look at all the old bruises covered by new red splotches. “That fucker.” He turned back toward my dad, but I grabbed his arm to stop him.
“Can you help me up?”
He nodded and managed to get me onto one of the bar stools at the counter. I must admit I wasn’t a lot of help to him. He went over to the kitchen sink and wet a dish towel. He brought it back to me and gently wiped the blood off my face. His hands shook a little as he scanned me over, his knuckles swollen, scraped, and a little bloody. I placed my hands over his. I didn’t know what to say to him.
“Thank you.”
“God, don’t thank me for this. We never should have let you leave the house.” His voice broke as he fought to hold in all his emotions. “Joey, we have to call the cops.”
“I don’t think—” I started before he interrupted me.
“Joey, he’ll kill you one day. We have to call the cops. Please, I can’t lose you, I just found you.”
“Okay.”
He grabbed the phone off the counter and dialed 911.
“Yes, I’d like to report a domestic disturbance. I just walked in on my girl’s dad beating her up.” He paused for a second. “No, ma’am, he’s not a danger to anyone right now, he’s barely conscious.” Another pause. “Yes ma’am, I stopped him.” He gave the woman my address and stayed on the line. My dad started to sit up, but Stetson pointed at him. “You stay right where you are, don’t even think of leaving.”
My dad leaned against the kitchen wall, smelling of booze and blood. Sirens rang out in the distance, getting closer, and Stetson said something into the phone as the whole situation finally hit me. This was actually happening. Life as I knew it would change, and I didn’t know what I was going to do.
Officer Johnson seemed like a nice enough person. Tall, almost as tall as Stetson, she kept her blond hair short. Fire filled her green eyes. I’m sure when she was happy she would be very pretty. But, right now, she was not happy; instead, she was pissed.
