She nods in understanding. “You can listen to your music if you want, Lexi. Zone out for a while. Just make sure you get the modules done before the next class.”
I nod, “Thanks.”
She smiles and returns to her desk at the front of the class, and I search my blazer for my earphones but can’t find them.
“Shit.” I must have lost them.
An earbud appears in front of me then, and I turn to look at Ayden in question.
“It’s clean,” he states, “I’ll share my music with you if it helps. I’ll even let you choose a few songs.” He winks.
I’m not familiar with accepting help, but thankful for the gesture, and unable to refuse him when he winks like that, I give him a small smile and nod. Taking the earbud, I pop it in my left ear, and a smile instantly lifts my lips when I hear the familiar sound of We As Human.
“Take the bullets away. Nice.”
A crease forms in between Ayden’s brow, “You know this?”
I nod, and he raises a questioning brow. Grabbing my phone, I flash my Spotify screen to show him I had been listening to the same song earlier. He looks surprised and then grabs my phone trying to unlock it but gets blocked by my passcode.
He shoves it back to me, “Unlock it for me?” He smiles, trying to appear sweet, “Please.”
Rolling my eyes at his pathetic attempt, I unlock it but make sure the text from Mike isn’t visible and then open the Spotify app before handing my phone back to him.
He scrolls through my playlist. “Wow.”
“What?” My self-conscious monster whispers insecurities in my ear. Is he about to give me his opinion on the dark music I listen to?
“Your playlist is nearly identical to mine.” He sounds pleased, and I can’t help but smile.
“Why is your playlist called Heavy?” He asks, looking back up to me, and with that, I snatch my phone back. I shouldn’t have let him look at my playlist. As weird as it sounds, that shit is personal.
“I just thought it was an appropriate name for it, okay!” I snap, shoving my phone back into my blazer pocket.
“Hey,” he taps my hand to get me to look at him again, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.”
Damn it. Why do I have to be such a fucking freak? Why do I always assume that people will use the information they learn about me against me? And why do I always feel like everyone is out to get me?
Shame fills me again, knowing that the cracks are getting bigger, and my emotions are getting the better of me. Shaking my head, I try to look sincere.
“No, I’m the one that should be sorry. Your first encounter with me, and I’m having a stupid head-case day.”
He chuckles, “A head-case day, hey? Haven’t heard a bad day called that before, but it works.”
And just like that, he’s lightened my mood again.
We both turn our attention back to our work. Ayden stumbles his way through fractions while I doodle pictures along the white margins of my textbook as we listen to his playlist with most of the songs that I would have chosen myself.
Every now and then, I peek at Ayden as he works. Sometimes he catches me, and other times he doesn’t. When he catches me, he gives me a smile or a wink, and the other times, I witness the most adorable look of concentration on his face as he works his way through the equations.
After class, Ayden walks with me to my locker before heading to his. Our conversation is light and involves which songs we think are better than others. It’s refreshing to talk to someone who has the same taste in music as me. While I like all music, having a very eclectic taste, Abbey is a straight-up pop girl and doesn’t understand my music preferences. She hates talking about the songs or artists I like, just as much as she hates listening to them.
There’s just something about punk and heavy rock that speaks to my soul. Some say that type of music is too dark and violent. To me, however, it's calming, and I often feel like it understands me more than I understand myself. Maybe I am all sorts of screwed up, but knowing Ayden has the same taste in music, helps me not to care so much. Maybe I should just embrace my fucked up side?
The sun is high, warming up the courtyard during lunch, well as much as a seventeen-degree winter day can. Abbey, Daniel, Maddie, and Kyle have coupled together again on the far picnic table, making me feel like I’ve completely lost my best friend. Even though I’d prefer to hang with the boys, I sit with Tasha, Allison, Amanda, and Sophie on the courtyard grass listening to them babble about a party coming up in a few weeks. No one notices that I don’t have food, but when Amanda offers food to everyone from her platter styled lunch box, I don’t refuse and try not to pounce on it like a starved animal. The two pieces of cubed cheese and three sticks of carrot are all I’ve eaten since the fruit last night. To say I’m hungry is an understatement.
Halfway through lunch, I lay back on the grass side by side with Amanda, enjoying the calm the sun brings me even though the air is still cold. Leave it to Simon to burst my calm bubble when he speaks to the boys of how he would love to have my legs wrapped around him.
“I can hear you, Simon,” I say loud enough to get momentary silence from the boys before they burst out laughing.
“Oh, come on, Lexi. Don’t knock it until you try it, baby.”
The girls make gagging sounds and laugh at Simon before a shadow blocks the precious sun. At first, I think it’s Simon coming over to stir the pot, but then earphones dangle in front of me, and I sit up, turning to Ayden, who is now on his haunches in front of me.
“Here are your earphones. You left them behind in Maths.”
I’m about to say no, I didn’t, knowing that the blue corded earphones are not mine, but then he whispers, “Just take them.”
A small smile tugs at the corner of my mouth, and I silently do as he asks before he stands and returns to the picnic table with the rest of the boys.
The silence that greets me from the girls tells me that, if I look at them, I would probably see them all gaping at me. I ignore them lying back down with the music now blaring in my ears and blocking out the world. Papa Roach fills my ears with Last Resort, and I listen contently while scrolling through my Heavy playlist.
A Facebook notification pops up on my phone screen, and I tap to open it. It’s a new friend request from Ayden Mitchell.
Heart flutters, cheeks warm, body tingles.
I’m such a girl! I am seriously swooning simply because I received a friend request from the new boy. If I were a stronger person, I’d ignore the friend request and give myself a stern talking to for being so easy. Since I’m not that person, I don’t hesitate to accept it, and moments later, a message pops up from him.
Ayden Mitchell
I thought you might like to block out that dickhead’s crude remarks by listening to your music. I hope you didn’t mind me doing that?
Smiling, I reply.
Lexi West
I’m thankful. I’ll return them when lunch ends.
Ayden Mitchell
No, you keep them. I have another set at home.
Lexi West
I can’t just keep them, Ayden. I will at least pay you for them. Otherwise, you’re taking them back.
Ayden Mitchell
Nope, not happening!
Lexi West
Ayden!
Ayden Mitchell
Lexi!
I laugh, getting unwanted attention from Tasha, but I ignore her.
Lexi West
You can’t just give me your earphones!!!!!
Ayden Mitchell
Think of them as a gift.
Lexi West
A gift? What for? It’s not my birthday.
Ayden Mitchell
A thank you gift.
Lexi West
What on earth do you need to thank me for? Being a rude bitch to you?
Ayden Mitchell
Talking to me ☺
Jesus, now I’m giddy!
Lexi West
You don’t have to thank me for th
at!
I should thank you for tolerating my bitchy mood.
Ayden Mitchell
Yes, I do have to thank you for that.
I get the impression that you don’t talk to just anyone.
I feel privileged, bitchy mood, and all.
I snort.
“Who are you texting, Lexi?” Tasha pries, standing over me.
“Simon.” I lie, laughing.
Ayden snorts then, and all eyes turn to him. I can barely contain my giggles, but I try hard to since I’m enjoying keeping Tasha and her minions out of my happy bubble. Simon looks all kinds of confused as he glances at his phone screen to see if there are messages from me.
Ayden Mitchell
You’re going to get us busted!
Lexi West
Probably.
Ayden Mitchell
You don’t care?
I consider his question.
Lexi West
Actually, I do care.
Ayden Mitchell
I thought so.
The bell rings then, spoiling the small bit of fun I’m having in a day filled with dread. While everyone gets up with enthusiasm, I sigh, slowly dragging myself up off the grass. My next class is English, which I have to admit is my favourite, so it’s not so bad, but it means that the school day is nearly over, and I will have to go back home before too long. Thinking about going home reminds me that Mike sent me another text message during Math, so I decide it’s now or never and read it as I dilly-dally to my locker.
Mike (Shithead brother)
You are so fucked!
Okay, so I shouldn’t have read it, because now, concentrating on English is impossible.
CHAPTER SIX
It’s just after 7 pm when I sneak in through my bedroom window. Avoiding my return home, I spent hours at the park around the corner doing my homework. Even after the night sky darkened, I couldn’t bring myself to go home, and it wasn’t until my phone battery was nearly dead that I put my big girl knickers on and forced myself to get it over and done with.
Mike’s car sits in the carport, and loud music blares from the house. Given that the music is so loud, I have to assume my mum is passed out drunk, high, or is out getting another fix. Either way, Mike is inside, and that isn’t a good scenario for me. That’s why I chose to sneak in through my window.
Safely back in my room, I’m relieved to find my door still securely locked. After Mike’s text messages earlier, I’d been afraid I would come home to a busted lock and a ransacked room. With my phone now on the charger, I change out of my school uniform and throw on my grey trackies and my favourite Metallica t-shirt before slipping my Slipknot hoodie over the top. Finally, I feel comfortable in my own skin. I tug out my pristine school regulation ponytail gathering up my blonde waves, and with a few twists of my hair elastic, I pile my hair into a messy bun on top of my head. Now I feel like myself.
Loud voices float up from downstairs, both male and female. Mike usually behaves himself when he has female company, so for now, I should be safe. Knowing this, I sneak out from the security of my room, locking it up behind me and letting the chain fall back around my neck to hide under my hoodie. First, I use the toilet before sneaking downstairs to the kitchen.
Eight people crowd around my kitchen table. A dirty green bong sits in the middle, and its woodsy smoke already hovers in the air. Along the other side of the table are several white lines of powder on top of my hand mirror that I keep in the upstairs bathroom. I hold in my curse when I see this. The fuckers are using my damn mirror to snort their filthy drugs off. The urge to snatch my mirror up and smash it over Mike’s ugly face flits through my mind. If only I had that sort of courage. It would be so fucking satisfying. As I walk past the table, I watch one of the girls bend over and snort a line of the white powder up her nose.
“Oh, who do we have here?” A sleazy male voice alerts everyone to my presence.
Trying to ignore them, I glance at my mums closed bedroom door wondering if she’s home as I move deeper into the kitchen. Finding several pizza boxes on the kitchen bench, I flip one open, and my stomach rejoices as the smell of melted cheese and pizza sauce teases me. My mouth waters with want, and knowing it won’t be long before Mike starts his shit with me, I grab a plate and fill it with four slices of Hawaiian Pizza. Moving to the fridge, I grab out a can of Pepsi Max and a water bottle, and with my hands now full, I make my way out of the kitchen.
Mike has other ideas, though, and bolts up from his seat to block my path.
“Where are you going, sis?” His foul breath engulfs my face, and I have to fight back the urge to gag.
Trying to look un-phased by him, I raise a brow.
“You have a sister?” One of the girls squeaks, clapping her hands. Really? She’s clapping because Mr Dickhead has a sister? Jesus, they must be damn good drugs she’s snorting up her nose!
“Yep, she’s a little whore too.” In response to Mike’s statement, the males in the room hoot, but the girls go quiet.
“That’s not nice, Mike!” A girl with bright red hair scolds coming to stand by him.
Mike looks from me to her, “You’re right, baby, that’s not nice.” He returns his gaze to me.
“Sorry little sis. Forgive me?” The girl beams, misunderstanding his sarcasm for sincerity.
“Sure, whatever,” I move to step around him, and much to my surprise, he lets me.
Not one to second guess the situation, I take off quickly, going upstairs, two steps at a time before I remember my deal with Travis.
Shit! I have to get a bag of weed off Mike for him. There’s just one problem. I can’t ask Mike for it. Even if I had the money to buy the weed off him, Mike would still use it against me, and it could escalate an already out of hand situation. I glance at Mike’s bedroom door, which is slightly ajar, and make a hasty decision. Returning to my room briefly to put down my one meal for the day, I hurry back out and creep down the hall to Mike’s bedroom.
It’s filthy and stinks like dirty socks. Screwing up my nose in distaste, I rummage through his cupboard and chest of drawers, coming up empty-handed. I’m about to give up when I notice his bedside table is out of place. Turning on the bedside lamp, I look behind the mahogany drawers to see the wall has a jagged cut in the plaster, which is slightly protruding. Nice hiding spot, Mike!
Making haste, I ease the drawers out of the way and pry open the plaster. Bingo! Stacked neatly in the wall cavity is what I assume are bags of weed on one side, and on the other side is whatever the white powdery substance is that they are happily snorting up their noses downstairs.
Without thinking twice, I snatch a bag of weed, shoving it into my hoodie pocket, and then return everything into position. I look back over Mike’s room before leaving, making sure nothing looks out of place. Satisfied, I beeline back to my room, desperate to avoid another run-in with Mike, especially while I’m carrying a bag of his weed. Once I’m inside my room again, door locked behind me, I cry for the second time in as many nights. I let the tears fall silently for a few minutes, giving way to the emotions that have plagued me all day. It’s been an arse-fuck of a day. Most of the time, my emotions were running scared, but there were some moments where I felt the little flickers of what happiness used to feel like. Most of that happiness was from the new guy, Ayden, but Simon and the other guys also had a hand in making me smile.
When I feel some of my control return, I pull myself together to eat the now cold pizza. The thing about pizza is that it’s still yummy cold. There’s a very real chance that I would eat anything cold right now despite how nice it tastes. Once my tummy is full for the first time in days, I remember I’m carrying a bag of weed in my pocket. Shit.
It’s not safe to have it on me or even in my room. I need to hide it somewhere, so I rummage through my closet and find a small wooden box that I made in year seven woodwork. It’s the perfect size to keep the weed protected. With the weed inside the box, I quietly climb out my window again
and sneak into my backyard. Since the back corner has good coverage, I head there and hide the wooden box underneath the shrubs. The last thing I need is Mike breaking into my room and finding his missing weed. That definitely wouldn’t end well for me. Happy that it won’t be found, I move back through the backyard and climb back onto the roof.
“Did you have some fruit tonight?” A whisper yell comes from behind me, and I turn to see Valarie, my 12-year-old neighbour, poking her head out her bedroom window.
Raising my finger to my mouth, I shoosh her and shake my head, “Not tonight.” I whisper back.
“Have you been out with your friends?” Valarie asks in the same loud whisper.
“Ah, yeah. Sure.” I can’t exactly tell her what I was really doing, so the lie will have to do.
Valarie nods and waves before closing her window. Weird kid.
Ducking back through my window, I’m just in time to hear my phone ring. Nathan’s name flashes across the screen, and I hesitate for a moment before answering.
“Hello.”
The line is silent for a moment before I hear Nathan’s voice.
“Uh- hi, it’s Nathan.”
I grin at his awkwardness. Over the past four years, I don’t think I’ve ever spoken to him on the phone. A few brief texts and some very basic small talk is all we had shared when we were together.
“Hey,” I try to sound casual, but silence greets me, and I sigh. Why is this so hard for him?
“Did you call me for a reason?” The annoyance in my voice is unmistakable.
“Ah, yeah.”
Jesus, do I have to do all the work? I’m struggling to know what I ever saw in him.
“And that reason is?” I ask, trying to prompt him to find the courage to have a bloody conversation.
“There’s a party,” he exclaims, “tomorrow night at Paul’s house over on Soloman. You want to go?”
“With you?” I need to confirm what exactly he is asking. For all I know, he could be just spreading the word that there’s a party.
“Ah-yeah. Well, can you maybe meet me there?” Nathan is out of his comfort zone right now. It’s kind of funny, and I hope like hell that he can’t hear the humour in my voice.
Heavy (Heavy Hearts Book 1) Page 6
