by Alla Kar
Her finger traced my hand and stopped on my wrist. Her eyes met mine. “Are you doing better?” she asked, glancing down at the faded cut across the tender skin of my wrist. My blue veins made a spaghetti of lines underneath my skin.
Shame boiled inside of me. “Yes, I haven’t in a long time.” Lie.
She pressed her hands to my cheeks. Worry was written all over her. “Get ready. We’re leaving in ten.”
***
The gymnasium parking lot overflowed with ritzy vehicles. Every pair of high heels and dress clothes I passed on my way to the entrance was designer.
Parents. Grandparents. Sisters and brothers. Every seat was filled when we started our walk toward our seats. I was positioned between two big football players, and I could barely see over their tree trunks of arms.
They started calling names, and my body began to burn with nerves. Craning my neck, I searched the crowd for my dad. I finally found him, texting on his phone, but my brother was sitting next to him, actually paying attention. Looking for me. When his eyes landed on mine he stood and waved. I waved back.
When they got to the B’s my heart started to thump in my ears. The red and blue Mount Vermont Academy banners were spread all over the gym, making it impossible not to think about Superman all the time.
“Jaden Lynn Baker.”
Is it my turn already? Standing up, I saw my entire row had already gone, and I hadn’t noticed. My legs felt like goo as I walked up to the podium to accept my certificate. Our principal smiled down at me and gave me one strong jerk of a handshake. “Great job, Jaden. Good luck in the future!”
I smiled and turned my head so the photographer could take my picture.
Then I heard it. Plain as day. Echoing loudly through the gymnasium.
“Ho, sit down!”
The entire place fell dead silent. People’s faces blurred through my tears, their gowns a collage of red and blue. Every ounce of my being shriveled up into ash. My heartbeat jackhammered in my throat, making it hard for me to breathe. “Get her off stage!” someone else shouted. “Sit down, stupid whore!”
I didn’t need to see who that someone was because I would never forget her voice. The voice had tormented me for an entire year. The voice had started all the gossip. The voice had turned all my friends against me. I stood, staring out at my classmates as they snickered. A blur of red and blue decorations disoriented me. My diploma dropped from my hands, and a sob broke from my lips. I ran out of the gym and away from that fucking school.
***
“Jaden Baker!”
I jolt out of my daze. My hand automatically wraps around the rose necklace against my chest. The professor is searching the room from over her glasses. When did she even get here? “Jaden Baker. Is there a Jaden Baker here?”
My arm shoots up. “Sorry. Yes, that’s me.”
And of course, not that I expected anything less, everyone turns to stare at me. The professor smiles and continues her way down her list.
My thoughts settle. A giggle echoes from the opposite side of the classroom. When I turn, Selena is facing me, staring me down like an animal. Why is she even here? She’s supposed to be in Florida. My throat has closed up, and my breath is getting hard to catch.
A red-haired girl sitting beside Selena turns to meet my gaze before her lips pull up in a sneer. I’ve never met her in my entire life. Never seen her. But she’s turning around to face Selena, whispering into her ear now. They both erupt in laughter. “Definitely a fucking slut. You have no idea,” Selena says.
Hiding my face with my hair, I stick my pen inside my notebook and close it. I wish I could curl up so tight I’d evaporate. Disappear. Go to some wonderland somewhere that doesn’t have people like Selena. But that’s not going to happen.
“Hey,” someone says beside me. I glance over at a boy who’s staring over at me. His popped collar is crisp, and I think he may have gone to my prep school. An easy smile on his face. “You’re Jaden, right?”
“Yes.”
He gives me a huge toothy smile. “Want to hook up later? I’ve heard you’re down with that.”
Anger swarms my stomach, climbing its way up to strangle my throat. Swallowing, I push back the tears, grab my books, and jet out of the classroom.
***
I have no way to get home. My dad refused to give me my car back after the incident. So I’m stuck calling my brother. Straight to voicemail. Will is in class, and I don’t know anyone else.
Frustrated, I sling my bag higher on my shoulder and start toward our apartment. Tears slide down my cheeks, hanging onto my chin. I wipe them away with the back of my hand.
It takes thirty minutes to walk home. I’m missing my first day, but I can’t go back. What if I have more classes with her? I can’t even think straight. I can feel the tightness on my cheeks from the tear streaks. Pathetic.
I climb the stairs to our apartment and sigh once the door is opened and locked behind me. Silence greets me. Sliding down the door, I cradle my knees to my chest, tears soaking the knees of my jeans as I sob. One of those snotty, embarrassing cries.
“Are you okay?”
I lean backward and bump the back of my head against the door. Palming the spot, I lift my gaze to Cade’s. He’s leaning against the dining room table, staring at me. His black hair is standing straight up. A mechanic’s shirt is fit tightly to his chest and arms. Matching black pants ride low on his hips. “Fine. Just…feeling sick again.”
He lifts a brow. “Really?”
Grinding my teeth together, with the door’s help, I stagger up until I’m leaning against the door. “Yes.”
“Why aren’t you in class?” He crosses his arms over his chest.
“Why aren’t you?” I snap, grabbing my bag.
He groans, and I hate that my stomach tightens. “Because I have to work. I only have one class on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Not that it’s your concern.”
“Well, then, you don’t need to worry about me either. Do you?” Tilting my head upwards, I walk past him. Callused fingers wrap around the curve of my elbow and pull me toward him.
“Did Will hurt you?” he asks softly. One finger gently, almost unnoticeably, makes a circle against the inside of my arm.
“No,” I say, stepping out of his warm grasp. Does he think he will? “No, it’s just…” I trail off.
What am I going to say? That the evil witch of the north decided to come to my college? The college I was supposed to be able to attend without being bullied? The one escape I had is now gone. Evaporated into thin air.
“I’m just not feeling well,” I lie. Then I turn and race to my room.
Chapter Four
Cade
What. The. Hell?
Jaden shuts the door behind her with a loud thud. She’d been crying, sobbing. What am I supposed to do? Go after her? I turn to go after her, but stop. I don’t know what to say to her. She doesn’t tell me anything when I ask. Growling, I roll my neck and grab my keys. I have to be at the garage in fifteen minutes.
Locking the door, I take the steps two at a time. My pickup is parked at the other end. It looks ridiculous with all of the expensive cars surrounding it. It’s rusted, beat-up, and old.
But frankly, I don’t give a shit. She’s been with me since the beginning, and I would never toss her to the curb. I race toward it, sliding against the gravel, sling the door open, and burn rubber out of the parking lot.
The gate guard gives me a go to hell look as I leave. I raise my hand out of the window and wave at him. Digging through my shirt pocket, I pull out a cigarette and light it. I take a slow, much-needed drag.
The drive to work only takes about ten minutes. It’s just up the road from our complex. I pull in with a few minutes to spare. Standing outside, I take one last drag and stomp the butt out.
Dan is on the phone when I walk in. He has that annoyed scowl on his face. You can barely see it from underneath his handlebar mustache. Two young girls stand at the counte
r. One, the brunette, keeps tapping her cell. The redhead is staring Dan down like she hopes he bursts into flames. It seems like it’s the year of the rich bitches—they’re everywhere.
The brunette twirls her finger around her hair and lets out an annoyed sigh. Dan gives me a help me stare and jabs his finger over his shoulder toward the girls. Sighing, I open the swinging door and walk up to the counter. “What can I help you two ladies with?”
“Finally,” the redhead says.
The brunette lifts her finger to the other girl and turns back to me with a smile. “Yes, I need my oil changed. It’s the Beemer outside.”
Of course it is.
“Okay, I’ll have someone pull the car around. It should be,” I check the list, “about thirty minutes. Is that okay, kid?”
She pops her gum loudly and flutters her eyelashes. “Thank you, sir,” she purrs. She twitches off toward a seat in the lobby. They turn toward each other and start giggling in one another’s ears. Definitely freshman.
“Those damn telemarketers won’t fucking stop calling. If they’d give me a break I might could get caught up on these damn books,” Dan grumbles, slamming his clipboard down before pulling out his glasses and looking down.
I roll my eyes. Having more time would only give Dan more time to fuck up the books. He can’t keep track of shit.
“What we got?” he asks.
He scans the list with squinted eyes.
“Oil change,” I say.
Turning, he runs his fingers through his graying hair. He’s an old guy, but the best one in the fucking world. He gave me this job even after looking at my rap sheet. I haven’t been…picture perfect my entire life. Hell, I’m not even really there now.
“You want to get started on it for me? John is late.”
“Again?”
He shrugs. “Just go, Cade. Don’t start.”
I shoo him away and gather my things.
“Did you see her cry?” the redhead says. “She ran out of class like a damn baby.”
“I know. She’s been like that forever. Such a crybaby,” the brunette says, acid lacing her voice. “The only good thing about her is her hot brother. Adam Baker. Dreamy. Oh I think he’s looking at us,” she whispers, locking eyes with me.
I turn before she gets the idea I’d actually consider her. Adam? They’re talking about Jaden?
I grab a wrench and try to listen, but they’re already talking about my tattoos. Fuck. She ran out of her class today? Had they made her cry?
“Cade,” Dan yells.
“Coming.”
***
I clock out at eight. I worked John’s shift for him today and spent my break at the gas station next door, scarfing down a burnt corndog and fries. My muscles ache, I smell like oil, and my hands are so dark I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to get this grease completely off of me.
“See you later, kid,” Dan yells from the opened lobby door.
I give him a nod and shut the driver’s side door of my truck. My baby purrs when I turn her on, and my fingers lace around her leather steering wheel.
The clock on the dash flashes eight fifteen. I need to get home, eat something, do my fucking homework, and go to bed. But I don’t.
I put the car into reverse and head out of the parking lot. I stop and get some groceries on the way home and start to my mother’s house. My mother’s house—my childhood home—is located in a bad part of town, past the railroad tracks and stuck behind two abandoned houses.
With Dad bailing when I was six, Mom couldn’t afford anything better. And when she started doing crack, she couldn’t even afford this. No bills were ever paid unless I paid them, which I did with stolen cash from school, until I was old enough to work. Then I earned it.
My mom’s old rusted Firebird is sitting in the gravel driveway. Stray weeds grow around the tires. It doesn’t look like it’s been touched in a week.
All the lights are off, but she never has them on. Saves electricity she says, but it’s really because it hurts her eyes when she’s blowed. And she’s always blowed.
Getting out, I grab the groceries I bought and lock my doors. The porch squeaks under my feet, and a stray cat scurries toward the dead bushes in front of the house. Opening the door, the smell almost knocks me over. She hasn’t cleaned in weeks—months. Anger rushes through me, but I push it back. Getting angry at her doesn’t help; she closes up and recoils into her shell.
I push all the shit lying on the floor out of the way with my boot so I don’t fall, like last time. “Mom?” I yell.
Nothing.
“Mom!”
Nothing.
I drop the groceries and flip on each light as I make my way through the house. When I get to her bedroom, I flip on the light and see her on the bed. She holds her hand up to block the light and narrows her gaze.
“Turn that fucking light off, Cade,” she hisses through her teeth, which look like she hasn’t brushed them in weeks.
I glance around the room. Her TV is playing lightly. Tissues, clothes, and a needle lie on her bed. She catches my gaze and throws the covers over the needle. “Can you turn the light off?” she snaps again. I walk toward her and stop abruptly in front of her bed.
“No, I won’t. Stop fucking smoking crack, or shooting up whatever, and it won’t bother you. Do you need anything? Besides a bath?”
She jerks her head like she’s been slapped. Her thin fingers run through her faded blond hair. It leaves a grease mark against her face. God, when is the last time she’s looked at herself? “Don’t talk to me like that. I’m your goddamn mother, Cade.”
“Could have fooled me,” I say, picking up her dirty clothes and putting them into the hamper. I’ll wash them because I know she won’t. She watches me, and tears burst from her eyes.
Goddamn it. I drop her clothes and take her in my arms. “I’m sorry, Momma. Look, if you would just go to the rehab center you could—”
“No,” she says, pushing away. She crawls to the headboard and watches me through hooded eyes. “I’m not going to that fucking place. I’m fine, Cade. I just need a couple more weeks, and I’ll be all better.” She twitches, scratching at her scalp. “Just give me a few weeks,” she mumbles, lying against her pillow. “Just a few more weeks.”
***
“Just a few more weeks, Sammy!” my mother screamed at my dad. She was hunched down in the middle of her bed, cradling her head in her hands. She looked like a scared child. Not like the other moms. They looked nice. Smelled nice. Mom cried a lot more, too.
My hands were wrapped around a Ninja Turtle headband, while I stood at the doorway of my room. I watched as my dad walked back and forth between the door and their bed. “I’ve heard it before, Stephanie. I’ve heard it, and I’m sick of it. It’s always ‘a few more weeks,’ or ‘I promise I’ll get clean,’ but it never happens.”
Dad looked like a giant compared to Mom. I always wanted to grow up to be like him. Then it all vanished just as quickly as it started.
“I swear, Sammy. I’m serious this time, please! I can’t take care of Cade by myself. I can’t afford it.”
Dad gripped his hair and pulled. “Because you spend it all on drugs, Stephanie. That’s why you can’t. It’s your own fault. I’m sick of living like this. Look at yourself! When is the last time you took a bath, huh?”
Mom sobbed louder and fell onto the bed, cradling the pillow to her face. Her sobs turned even louder as my dad grabbed his bag sitting by the door and slung it over his shoulder. “I loved you, Stephanie. I truly did, but I can’t take this anymore. I can’t take the torment of not knowing if you’ll live another day. I’m sorry…I have to leave.”
My mother shot up out of the bed, slamming her fists against his chest, and he let her. He watched as she beat him with her balled-up hands. After a few minutes she dropped to the ground, holding her head.
Dad didn’t say anything as he passed by me, or when he stopped at the door. He just stood and stared, and then h
e turned and left.
***
Anger runs through me, and I fight the urge to throw something. Instead, I grab her clothes. “Eat something tonight. I brought you chili. I’ll be back in a couple of days with fresh clothes. I love you, Momma.”
She sniffles, looking at me like a scared Chihuahua. Shaking, hunched over, and crying. “Thank you, Cade. I love you, baby. Everything is going to be okay.”
Everything is going to be okay? I can’t even remember how many times I’ve heard her say that. I fucking see red. Everything is bloodred. Why is this happening? God, I just want to slap some sense into her. I begged for days, weeks, for her to go to rehab. She does the same shit each time and it breaks my heart more and more every minute.
If I can just get her back to normal. Bring her back to life, I may have a chance at saving our family.
***
I pull into Smiley’s and park my car at one of the front parking spaces. The lot is dead since it’s the middle of the week.
My forehead hits the steering wheel, and I screw my eyes shut. I know I need to go straight home. Straight into my bed, with a fucking good night’s sleep. But just one drink won’t hurt, right?
Yeah, just one drink.
Chapter Five
Cade
I’m fucking fucked up. My vision is blurry, my feet won’t stay still. Am I even moving them? I’m laughing hysterically at something, but I have no idea what it is. I had one too many Jagerbombs tonight and my body feels numb. A great pain-free numb.
My phone keeps vibrating in my pocket, but I press the ignore button. Whoever it is can wait. My keys drop from my hand, and I stoop down to scoop them up.
The bouncer yells something at me, but I wave as I get into my pickup and start the engine. I just need to get the fuck back to my apartment and go to sleep. I’m going to feel like shit tomorrow. God, I’m starting to feel like shit now.
