WrongorWriteBoxedSetstripped

by Sky Corgan

  To my surprise, my mom informed me that Darren hadn't left for Colorado. He had decided to put it off for a while. The only reason she knew that was because he still came by the house a lot. That news was a bit disturbing. In all honesty, I wished he would unlink himself from my parents. Of course, my mom loved having him around. She said it helped curb the loneliness she felt from me leaving the nest.

  That entire vacation, I was on pins and needles, fearing running into Darren and Krista. With Darren still keeping close to my parents though, it was unavoidable. Lo and behold, on Christmas Eve, he showed up at my doorstep, wearing an ear to ear grin as soon as he laid eyes on me.

  “Tara!” he said, as if he was actually surprised to see me.

  “Darren,” I replied, not bothering to hide the discomfort in my voice. He insisted on hugging me, which made it all the more awkward.

  “You guys should go to your room and catch up,” my mom said, beaming at us as if she had planned the whole thing. Had she?

  “I'd love to,” Darren said. “Tell me all about Baylor.”

  With an internal groan, I led the way up to my bedroom, hoping that he didn't plan on sticking around long.

  “Wow. Nothing's changed,” he said as he stepped inside my room, looking around.

  “Of course nothing has changed. I've only been gone for a few months. Do you really think my parents were going to throw my stuff out the second I left?” my words had a cruel pitch to them that he didn't seem to catch.

  “Have you talked to Krista since you got back?” he asked, taking a seat on my bed.

  “No, I haven't.” I stood in front of him, crossing my arms over my chest to look as uninviting as possible.

  His voice softened, “Yeah, she told me you stopped talking to her after you left town.”

  “I did.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I want a new life away from all of this.”

  “That doesn't mean you had to ditch us.” He looked hurt.

  “Yeah, it did, because you guys are going nowhere, doing nothing with your lives. That might be fine for you, but that's not what I want.”

  “Whoa. Wait a minute. Why all the animosity?” He furrowed his brow at me.

  “It's not animosity. It's the truth. Krista isn't going to college. She wants to stick around this podunk town for whatever reason, and I don't know what the hell you're doing, but it's sure not furthering yourself. I suppose it doesn't matter since you'll eventually own your parents' businesses. We can't all be so lucky though. Some of us actually have to work to make our way in the world.”

  “Is that what you think?” He stood, causing me to take a step back. Anger was apparent in his face now. Perhaps I had gone too far.

  “That is what I think. Krista's probably going to end up barefoot and pregnant like my mom, and you're just going to piss your life away until your parents die.”

  His nostrils flared. I expected fury to escape his lips, but instead, he said, “You really hurt Krista. She loves you like a sister. But I guess that doesn't matter. I guess we're expendable to you. You never cared about my love, and you don't care about hers either. We've been with you through thick and thin, but I guess that's not enough for you.

  “I decided to take the year off, hoping you'd come back, hoping you might change your mind and realize that you love me. I'm glad I did too, because when you stopped talking to Krista, it shattered her completely. She tried to kill herself. Did you know that? No, you wouldn't, but you didn't care enough to call. We were there when you needed us the most. Where in the fuck were you?” his voice rose, and I knew he was pissed. All I could do was stand there with my mouth agape and listen as he tore me down.

  “You may hate that your mother gave up everything to raise you, but at least she grew into a loving decent human being, which is more than I can say for what you've become.”

  “Get out,” were the only words I could mouth as I felt the searing tears lining my eyes. When he didn't immediately respond, I repeated it, pointing at the door. “Get out. I don't ever want to see you again.”

  “Good, because you're a cunt, and I don't ever want to see you again either. I can't believe I wasted so much time loving you. I don't think you're even capable of love.”

  “Get out!” I shoved him toward the door. If looks could kill, he would have burnt me to a cinder right then and there. It was a look that would haunt me for years to come, I just didn't know it yet—a look that I deserved.

  “Is something wrong?” I heard my mom ask Darren as he made it to the bottom of the stairs.

  “No, ma'am. You guys have a Merry Christmas.” And then he was gone, and I knew I would never see him again, and I was glad.

  ***

  If I said I didn't feel remorse from hearing Darren's words, I would by lying. They plagued me throughout the rest of my Christmas vacation. Had my cutting contact with Krista really pushed her to the brink of suicide? I tried to imagine what it would have been like if the roles were reversed. Your best friend goes off to college, and you never hear from her again, and you don't even know the reason why. One day, you're laughing and joking, and then . . . nothing. Her father had walked out on her and her mother when she was little, so I knew she already had abandonment issues. How could I be so shitty? Darren was right. I had become a horrible human being.

  I could have called Krista. I could have met up with her and Darren at Sammy's Restaurant and apologized and tried to mend things. But I didn't. In my mind, it was already over. I was never coming back to this crappy little town. There was no point in nurturing friendships with people I'd only see on holidays. Once I graduated from Baylor, I would start a life in Austin, a life in the city. I was so over the small-town mentality. I wanted no part of it. For as much as I had hurt Krista and Darren, that was in the past. They had no place in my future.

  Guilt ate me alive when I returned to school. For as much as I told myself I could get over what I had done, the memory of Darren's words haunted me. There were several times I had my phone in hand, looking down at Krista's number, which I had kept despite my resolve not to speak to her ever again. My willpower was stronger than my remorse though, and I never actually dialed the number. Eventually, I deleted it to make sure I never would. They're your past. Your future is better without them.

  It seemed like during Christmas vacation, I lost sight of my future though. When I returned to school, I was a different person. My studies suddenly didn't mean as much. Partying became more important. I drank a lot, and my grades began to falter. By the end of the semester, I had failed three of the five classes I was taking. What motivation I had started with was completely gone, and I realized that I absolutely hated my chosen major. Accounting. Who was I kidding? Just because I was good at numbers didn't mean I wanted to sit in an office all day and watch my ass grow while I lived a sedentary life and ate bad food.

  I had picked it as a major because accountants make good money. I wanted to be self-sufficient and never have to rely on a man. If I wasn't so squeamish, I probably would have tried to be a doctor, but accounting seemed more practical and didn't require as much school.

  It didn't matter now. Accountant. Doctor. I didn't have the patience for school anymore. I was burnt out and out of control. But despite all that, I refused to go home. Even though I didn't want to continue going to college, I also didn't want to go back to the way things were. I hated Castroville for all the wrong reasons, and I would not go back a failure. Instead, I got a job at a convenience store and moved in with one of my friends who had also decided that college wasn't for her.

  We moved into a small apartment together in one of the shadier parts of town. The first time my parents saw it, they begged me to come home, but I refused, too headstrong for my own good. Whether they liked it or not, I was determined to make my own way in the world, one way or another.

  Alice Sharper, the girl whom I had moved in with, was no good influence. If people thought that Krista was bad, this girl was ten times wor
se. She partied late into the night, had a new boyfriend every week, and dealt drugs to supplement the income from her part-time job at the local strip club. We got along well, and we both wanted the same thing, to be free from our parents and our pasts, so it worked out. I never had to worry about her not paying rent.

  It was hard keeping up with her pace. Between work and partying, I barely slept. Partying in college had been pretty intense, but living with Alice put things on overdrive. What money I made that didn't go toward paying the bills went on alcohol and sub-par nourishment. There wasn't a day that went by that I didn't go to work with bags under my eyes.

  It wasn't until Alice got robbed at gun point in our apartment that things began to turn around. Thank God I wasn't there at the time. And thank God that she was okay.

  The guy who had robbed her was a regular at the strip club. He'd been over to our apartment several times and knew where she kept her stash. Luckily, that was all he wanted. He took her drugs, what pieces of paraphernalia she had, our crappy little thirty-two-inch television, and went on his way.

  She called me up at work after it happened, and I rushed home immediately to find the cops at our door and her sobbing on the sofa. That was a turning point for both of us. After that incident, we decided to go on the straight and narrow.

  We used the drug money Alice had saved up to get a better apartment. She quit her job as a stripper and started working full-time at a lingerie store in the mall, and I began thinking about going back to school. One thing that a year of slaving away at the gas station had taught me was that I would never get ahead in life if I stayed there. I was doing exactly what I had expected Krista and Darren to do, pissing away my life, not trying to better it. It was time to get back to practicing what I preached.

  One thing was for certain, I did not want to be an accountant. The idea of going back to college was daunting, and while I knew I wanted to better myself, I also knew I probably wouldn't have the patience for more than another year of school.

  I took my time deciding what I wanted to do with my life, and it was one of the hardest decisions I ever made. Finding something I could make a career out of while not having to endure three or four more years of college was difficult. Most all the certifications that didn't take long to earn were in the computer or health industry. I wasn't very tech savvy, and I knew I was too squeamish to do anything nursing related. For a while, I considered being a medical transcriptionist, but I worried I would become bored with it, and I couldn't bear to waste anymore time or money on something I wasn't certain of.

  Since Alice stopped selling drugs, we were on an even tighter budget than before. We cut corners wherever we could, clipping coupons and going to the grocery store on the weekends to hit up all the free samples so that we could save on our grocery bill. Instead of going out to get our hair and nails done, we started to do each other's. It didn't take me long to realize that I really enjoyed cutting hair. Alice had luxurious blonde locks to work with, and she always complimented me on the job I did.

  “You should do hair for a living,” she told me one day after I had finished flat-ironing her hair into a picture of perfection.

  “You know, that might not be a bad idea,” I replied, smiling at the thought.

  Approaching my parents on the subject was a whole other issue. In all honesty, I had hoped they would fork out the money so that I wouldn't have to get financial aid. Student loans were a killer, or so I had been told. They did offer to pay for it, but only if I lived with them and went to school in San Antonio. Moving back to Castroville wasn't an option though. I couldn't face Darren and Krista, couldn't handle them knowing that I had basically flunked out of college. It just wasn't something I could deal with.

  So, I sucked it up and applied for financial aid, which I was able to get without issue thanks to my living situation. I worked during the day and went to school at night so that I could still afford to make rent. Having to take night classes made the time I was in school a little longer by a few months, but I figured that as long as I didn't have to return home, it was the worth the sacrifice of not having any free time.

  For those fifteen months of school, Alice and I rarely crossed paths. Most days, I'd come home so tired that I wouldn't even eat. When I went home during the holidays to visit my parents, they worried that I was becoming anorexic. I was sickeningly thin, which I tried to explain away by just not having time for anything but school, work, and what little sleep I could get. They desperately tried to convince me to move back home, even offering me a new car on top of paying for the remainder of my schooling, but I wouldn't budge. This was my life, and I was going to make my way on my own if it killed me.

  Somehow, it didn't kill me. After fifteen months of unwavering dedication, I graduated cosmetology school and went on to get a job at a high end salon. It was the light at the end of the gloomy tunnel I had been traveling down. I was able to quit my job at the convenience store. My clients were great, I was making a lot more money, and life was finally starting to take a turn for the better.

  Chapter 5

  One Year Later

  Alice and I were moving up in the world. She had been promoted to an assistant manager at the lingerie store she was working at, and I had a lot of steady clients that were big tippers. With our income combined, we were finally able to upgrade to an apartment that we both liked, plus trade out our crappy hand-me-down furniture for some trendy stuff from Ikea. It was funny to think that in just two years we had gone from looking like we lived in a crack house to some resemblance of a home.

  I no longer felt embarrassed when my family came over to visit. They no longer worried about my safety. Everyone was happy, for the most part.

  On top of our plush living environment, more income meant we could afford to eat better. Instead of stocking up on samples during the weekends or eating whatever was cheap or free, we were able to buy some real groceries and cook real meals. It was actually fun switching up the cooking duties. One week, I would make all of our meals. The next week, she would. Alice's menus usually consisted of chicken and seafood dishes, while mine were mostly pasta and home-style cooking.

  She had become like a sister to me, someone I knew I would be friends with for the rest of my life. On our days off, we would go shopping together or take in a movie. We liked to joke that we were all we ever needed.

  I think we both knew that wasn't true though. Alice was a blonde bombshell, and every time she brought home a new guy, I worried it was the beginning of the end for our perfect little relationship. I avoided dating for that very reason. Life was too good to mess it up now. We had both worked too hard for everything to change just because of some guy. I hoped she felt the same way, but I secretly feared that she didn't.

  It was my turn to make dinner. I stood in the kitchen, humming a catchy tune, chopping carrots for the pot roast I was making. There was a small television set up on the bar catercorner to where I was cooking so that I could watch it while I worked. Alice and I had agreed to buy it, so we wouldn't miss our favorite shows while we were cooking.

  It was Sunday, so there wasn't really anything on but the news. Alice was at work, and I was so used to having noise while I cooked that I figured it was better than nothing. They had just got past showing the weather forecast and were now talking about some big-shot romance author who was having his book made into a movie. The name of the author was unfamiliar. Dominick Parker. The thought of a guy writing romance just made me smirk. Then again, Nicholas Sparks pulled it off. Maybe this guy wouldn't be so bad either. He couldn't suck too much if they were making his book into a movie.

  I was half paying attention, half not when the image of a man flashed across the screen. My brain barely had time to register the man's face before the knife sliced through my thumb. I gasped, looking down at my bleeding appendage before quickly glancing up again. I didn't know who Dominick Parker was, but the man on the screen was definitely Darren Jones. Suddenly, I felt faint, but it only took one more look
at my thumb to realize that it wasn't because of the shock of seeing Darren on television. The cut was bad. Really bad.

  I wrapped a towel around my thumb and ran for my phone, calling up Alice at work to tell her that I was going to drive to the emergency room. She said to wait for her, but by the time I hung up, I had already bled through the towel. The panicked part of me thought about calling an ambulance, but I didn't want to spend the money, so I grabbed my keys and jumped into my car.

  To be honest, driving to the hospital while bleeding so profusely wasn't the best idea. There were bouts of time when I thought I might pass out behind the wheel, my mind making the cut into a life-threatening injury. Thankfully, the hospital was less than ten miles down the road. I parked and ran into the building, unwrapping my thumb as I walked up to the front desk.

  Apparently, the cut was as bad as I had imagined, because they were taking me back into a room only minutes later, despite a waiting room full of people. The nurse who was assisting me told me to keep pressure on the wound while I waited for the doctor. She took my vitals and then set me down to panic silently until he came in to treat me. I stared at the towel, trying not to faint at the sight of so much blood. Even though it was my own blood, it didn't make much of a difference. My thumb throbbed from the pain of the cut and being wrapped so tightly. I just hoped the doctor would come soon.

  Ten minutes passed before the door finally opened, and a handsome man in a doctor's coat stepped inside. I tried not to blush as I looked up at him, soaking in his perfectly combed dark hair, his soft brown eyes, and pronounced jawline. He was gorgeous. Why he wasn't a model instead of a doctor, I didn't know, but even being in the same room with him made me feel somewhat uncomfortable. When I got around really attractive men, I tended to act stupid. At least, I could use blood loss to brush it off this time.