“What were you saying before?”
“It was nothing.”
I roll my eyes, knowing whatever he was going to say wasn’t nothing. But with the moment ruined by some jackass, I let it go. I doubt it was anything life-affirming. “Can you just take me home? We’re already going to be in trouble for looking like we rolled around in a pigpen together, so might as well get it over with now.”
And I just want away from him.
“Yeah, of course,” he says, his arm falling from my shoulder. I shake my head, thinking he has no right to be mad at me right now. We make it to the car and he digs his keys out of his pocket to unlock the doors. I hesitate before getting in, remembering we’re caked in mud. “What’s wrong now?” When he glances up at me, he looks crestfallen. I can’t keep up with his mood swings tonight.
“Do you have a towel to put down or something?” I might be mad, but I don’t want to destroy the interior of his car.
“You’re fine. They’re pleather. I’ll clean them tomorrow.” He waves off with a flick of his hand and gets in.
I ring out my clothes the best I can, considering it’s still raining, and get in.
I stare out the window, watching the water hit the glass, and the street lights blur from the drops. I've always loved when it rains; there is something peaceful about it.
Colin pulls into a gas station, and the orange and white fluorescent sign on the building blinks like it belongs in a horror movie. “I need gas. Do you want anything from inside?”
I shake my head, counting the number of times the sign blinks in a minute.
Colin gets out and I watch him walk into the store. I let out a tiny scream, trying to figure out why this night went to shit. I already know Victor, the devil, played the biggest part of this night's descent into hell. But why couldn’t Colin be jealous like he was that one time and take it out on my body? Instead, he turned into a jackass.
The car shakes and Colin is back, pumping gas. He’s leaning against the car, his arm on the hood, his head resting on it.
Most of all, I know this night was shit because he shuts off instead of just telling me what's wrong.
I hear the pump click, announcing it’s done. Colin twists the cap back on and gets back in the car. He turns on the car and reaches into his pocket, pulling out a bag of Sour Patch Watermelon. My favorite.
“I know you didn’t want anything, but I figured you still like them.” He tosses the bag on my lap and I clutch it in my hand, appreciating the small gesture.
“Thank you.”
For the first time since we left the house, he gives me a smile. I’m still pissed, but it helps ease some of the hostility in the car.
The rest of the ten-minute drive is quiet except for the crinkling of my Sour Patch bag as I eat, but it’s not too uncomfortable. He pulls into the driveway and kills the engine. The house is dark and, hopefully, if we’re lucky our parents kept their early bedtime for work tomorrow.
I move to get out and Colin grabs my hand. “Wait.”
With a roll of my eyes and a sigh, I look at him. “What?”
He leans into me, inches away from my face. There’s a shine in his eyes, the same one he was giving me before the car honked by us. For a second, I think he’s going to kiss me, but his head bows and he shakes his head, wiping away whatever he was going to do. But I wait, hoping he'll say something, anything. When his eyes meet mine again, his blue eyes have clouded over the light and now match the eeriness outside.
“Let me go first. That way I can be a barrier.”
“You don’t need to protect me. I can handle the big bad asswipe.” Feeling dejected again, I fly out of the car and rush to the door. Colin grabs me before I can turn the handle.
“If you could handle him, you wouldn’t be hiding like you have been,” he whispers-yells and runs his hand down my cheek. “I get you’re mad but can you just please.”
“Fine.”
Colin opens the door slowly and walks into the house. He waves me in, and I follow behind his every step. It seems like all the floorboards squeak and moan as we make our way to the steps. He reaches back for my hand as we pass the master bedroom. I faintly hear the television on in there, but the door is closed.
We made it. I let go of his hand when we make it to my door. I'm exhausted and ready to sleep the night away. Well, after a shower. If only tonight was Friday, I could sleep in tomorrow.
“Good night, Abbs,” he says as gloomy as I feel about this night. He sneaks a look over his shoulder and then places a kiss on my cheek.
“Night,” I whisper and push open my door. When I step into my room, he’s still standing there, staring at me, but I don’t engage and close the door on this night.
The next morning, I wake up to two people screaming as if it's in surround sound. Colin and Victor are at it again. I glance at my clock and see it’s only six a.m. and I wonder what has them fighting this early. My mom leaves for work at five, so she’s missing the love fest once again. In fact, Victor always waits to strike while his wife is away; I'm sure to avoid having her see what a monster he truly is. I’m not sure if she would believe it was happening even if she saw it.
Wonder if she would change her tone if it came to him hitting me?
But why would she? She’d probably just say it’s my imagination and all. That the purple bruise appeared on its own.
There’s a thunderous bang, followed by Victor yelling again, telling Colin to get out of his face. Colin hollers back something, but I can’t make it out, then a loud crash echoes through the walls. Part of me wants to rush down there, but I’m too scared.
The front door slams and I slip out of bed to peek out my door, hoping Victor is the one who has left. I hear footsteps coming up the stairs and Colin appears at the landing. He charges past my room toward his, not looking my way, and I don’t miss the blood on the sleeve of his white shirt. I call his name, but he ignores me as he swings open his door and slams it behind him.
The angry metal music roars through his door. I’m still mad about last night, but it doesn’t stop me from wanting to wrap him in my arms. I double check the hall to make sure that the coast is still clear, and Victor hasn’t come back. Making my way across the hall, I push his door open and call out his name. He's not in the room, but his bathroom door is closed.
I distinctly hear the faucet running and knock, “Colin?”
“What?” he yells sounding aggravated.
“Are you okay?”
“Not now, Abbs,” he snaps. “You need to get ready for school.”
“I'm not going anywhere till you tell me you’re fine. And I know you’re not.”
Come on babe, talk to me.
I hear something clamor to the ground—or the sink. I’m sure he’s throwing a tantrum because I won’t listen to him, but he should know me by now. I’ve never been one to listen.
“GO!” he shouts, and I roll my eyes at how stubborn he is. God forbid his girlfriend—no, fuck buddy—no, a girl that likes him—wants to hug him.
“No, I need to see that you’re okay.”
“Abigail, please just go. I'll see you later.”
Fuck that.
“I'm not leaving. I'll stand out here all day if I have to,” I say, determined not to go anywhere without seeing him to know he’s okay. Why can’t he see that I happen to give a shit about him, even if he doesn’t about me?
He doesn't say anything else for a few minutes and I finally hear the water turn off.
The door flings open and he walks out in only a pair of boxers, but that’s not the first thing I notice. It's the split lip and the bruise forming on his jaw. He’s cleaned it up, but it’s still bleeding, and I wonder if he’ll need stitches.
“You really are a pain in the ass.” His jaw ticks and he pinches the bridge of his nose.
I ignore him and wrap my arms around him. He doesn't return the sentiment, but I don’t care and just squeeze him harder. “Why do you put up with this? You could
easily leave, Colin. Go live with one of your friend’s or your mom, but you shouldn’t be dealing with this”
My heart shatters thinking of him being thousands of miles away from me, across an ocean, but if he's safe away from Victor’s abuse, that's all that matters. He doesn’t deserve any of it.
Colin grabs my wrists and pulls me off his body. “I’m not going anywhere or leaving, and you need to go to school.” He releases me hard enough that I go stumbling back. His eyes widen momentarily, shocked by his action before he turns back away from me, cursing under his breath. I try to stop the tears from welling in my eyes, but it’s no use, and I have to wipe them away.
“I’m so sick of you shutting down on me. Why can’t you just talk to me?”
I thought after yesterday he would see what he does to me, but now we’re back to square one.
“Abigail, stop!” It comes out more as a plea than a demand. He falls to sit on the edge of his bed, resting his elbows on his knees, and pushes his fingers through his hair.
I sigh and move to sit next to him, rubbing his back. The muscles there tense the second my skin makes contact. I drop my hand, knowing my touch is making it worse, which only makes me feel more like shit knowing he won’t take my comfort.
“I just care, you know. Can you at least tell me what you were fighting about this time? So, I can understand why you act like this?”
They can’t possibly still be fighting about college. Colin has been busting his ass on the construction site. Or at least that's what I assume when he comes back home covered head to toe in dirt and exhausted to the bone. I always do my best to sneak into his room at night to give his achy muscles a rub to make him feel better.
He lets me take care of him then, why won’t he let me care now?
“It was nothing.”
“That wasn’t nothing, Colin. Tell me.” I clench my hand over my heart. His constant dismissal is slowly killing me.
“For once, could you just stop pushing everything. I don’t want to talk about it, and I can handle it myself.” His darkened eyes are not his lustful ones when he looks at me. They’re frightening.
“Fine. Sorry.” I look down at my lap and he goes back to his head in his hands. “Is there anything I can do for you to maybe make you feel better? Ice pack?” Removal of the stick up your ass?
“It would make me feel better if you just get to school, Abbs,” he tells me without looking back up at me.
“Why are you being an asshole?” I whisper and stand from the bed.
“Excuse me?” he snarls, his attention still to the floor.
I sigh and cross my arms over my chest. “I don’t get why you're acting like this with me again. I get that I’m pushing, but you’re being an ass to someone that—” I stop, the words I was about to announce, shrivel up in my throat.
He looks at me unexpectedly, his eyes glazed over and empty, defeated. “That what?” he asks softly, and I swear there’s a flare of hope in his voice.
I open my mouth and close it again. The words have turned to dust. There’s no way in this moment that I could tell him how I feel.
I know he needs space, but I want to help him battle whatever it is he’s battling. I would think since we’re sleeping together he would let me in, or maybe I’m just being a naive teenager.
I just hate that his distance hurts me like this and it's fucking with all rationality.
“Nothing,” I say returning his most famous word back at him.
He shakes his head and goes back to looking at his lap. “Then, can you go now?”
I don’t say any more. I know when I’m not wanted. My hand is on the doorknob, about to exit, when I remember his promise he made Monday night. He told me he wanted to take me somewhere special tonight for dinner, but he wouldn’t tell me the rest. All I know is it was going to be out of town where we would spend the night alone. Being Friday, I told my mom I was sleeping over at Tamara’s house.
Though, I’m not sure if I even want to go anywhere with him now. But it would be good for both of us to try and—talk. Maybe I can get him to tell me what's going on with him. I’m not dumb to know that this not all about me, but it doesn’t mean my heart hasn’t felt like it’s not been torn apart in the last twelve hours.
Maybe we can also figure out what we are or if it’s time for the fun to end.
“Will I see you tonight?” I whisper.
“Yeah, tonight,” he mumbles.
I take my answer and leave.
It’s after six and I’m doing my best not to break down in tears. I haven’t heard from Colin all day and we were supposed to meet somewhere down the road, so he can pick me up.
Nada. Absolute silence from his end.
It would be nice if you could just text me and tell me you’re not coming.
That was an hour ago and still nothing. So, I try a different tact.
I get you were annoyed at me this morning. I also get you’re dealing with your own shit, and that maybe you’re mad, but so am I. But the least you could do is reply, or at least tell me something, so I know that you’re alive.
I can’t help but continue to stare at the screen, waiting for his damn reply. Is it that fucking hard to tell someone you’re either blowing them off or that you’re even alive? Is it possible I mean that little to him?
Why would we mean more? All we do is fuck.
“Hey, weren’t you supposed to be going to Tamara’s tonight?” my mother asks, coming into the living room. I’m sitting on the couch, my bag on the floor, and under this baggy sweatshirt, I’m wearing a top that leaves little to the imagination.
“No, she just had to cancel on me. Family emergency.”
“Is everything alright?”
“I think so. She wouldn’t tell me what.” And I don’t have the energy to come up with any more lies.
“Hmm. Well, I’m sorry, sweetie. There are some leftovers if you’re hungry.”
“Thanks, but I’m fine.” I couldn’t eat right now if I wanted to. My stomach is all tied up in knots and lodged in my throat.
“Okay. Maybe me and you can go shopping tomorrow. It’s been a long time since it was just us girls.” She smiles a familiar sweet smile—a pre-Victor smile—and sits down next to me on the couch. This is the mother I remember before she married the asshole.
“I would like that.”
“Great.” She pats my leg. “We can get up early and go to that mall in Towson we like.”
“Yeah.” I nod, excited at the prospect of hanging with my mother alone for a change.
“Then it’s settled. Victor has to work, so it’s the perfect day for us to get out of the house.” She pats my leg, and I deflate.
Oh, so you’re only hanging out with me because the dickface isn’t here. I’m the second choice. I feel the love, mother. Thanks.
“Can I stop by and see Dad? He’s only twenty minutes from there?” I miss my dad and I could use one of his bear hugs right about now.
“I don’t think so, sweetie. You know we don’t get along anymore and I’m sure he’s working.”
He wouldn’t hate you if you didn’t leave him and keep his only daughter away from him. I muse inwardly, stewing. Could this day get any worse?
“You could sit in the car. I wouldn’t stay long,” I suggest, crossing my toes in hope for a little give, but when her frown deepens, and her nose scrunches, I know it’s going to be a resounding—
“No, Abby. Now, that’s enough. I’ll see you in the morning.” And with that, she dismisses me by leaving the room. I should be used to being dismissed, but it’s like another slice into my already bleeding heart.
I decide now, all I want to do for the rest of the night is throw myself into bed and cry. I hate being in this house more than ever. I’m alone and it sucks.
Since my mom won’t let me go see dad, I'll call him. I know he'll listen to me. I need to hear his voice, the voice of someone that cares, and that will help me settle the twisting knife of defeat in my bell
y.
Pulling my phone from my pocket, I flop on my bed and dial my dad’s number.
I get the first numbers in when my phone lights up with Colin's face. I should ignore him as he's been ignoring me, but I can't help my curiosity to know what his excuse is.
When I answer, there's loud music and people screaming coming from the speaker. Now I'm pissed. “Hello?” I shout into the phone. I hear a bunch of muffled voices but can't make them out. It’s safe to say I've been successfully butt dialed.
Well, at least his ass was thinking of me.
I listen for a bit, being nosey, thinking I'd catch him saying something. What that something is I don't know. Maybe that he's with a girl?
I give up after ten minutes of listening and hang up. I call back and as I figured he doesn't answer. I decide to leave a voicemail.
“You could’ve at least told me you made other plans or that you didn't want to see me. Whatever your reason was you should've just told me. Instead, you butt dialed me, and I come to find you’re at some party, living it up like I mean nothing to you. I get you’re upset, but you don't have to shut me out. I’m not your father. I’m not the one you should be mad at. All I wanted to do was support you, comfort you like a girlfriend would.” Fresh tears prickle in my eyes, and I try to wipe them away, “but I guess I’m overstepping. Am I wrong to think we're more than just fuck buddies or are you just enjoying some taboo fantasy with your step-sister?” I snap into the phone, officially losing the cool I had at the beginning of this message. I hang up before I say anything worse.
I fling the phone to my nightstand and crumble into tears on my bed, wrapping my blanket around me.
What hurts the most is that I've fallen in love with him. I want to believe that he and I are right for each other. That we could be each other's happily ever after. I want so much more. I thought maybe he did too, but now I’m left feeling stupid. I should have heeded the taboo words, that falling for your step-brother is wrong and stayed away from him.
So Wrong So Right Page 9
