Chapter Nineteen
“I’m going to miss you like crazy!” Laynie hugged me fiercely, her thin wiry arms squeezing me in a warm embrace.
“You’ll see me tomorrow.” I laughed at her.
“I know.” She sighed. “But still.”
I was going home for the night so I could wake up in the morning and help set up for the always dreaded birthday party. Laynie and Jonah would be driving up at around noon to help set up. The party would start at two.
“I can’t wait until you see what I bought you though! Jonah helped me pick it out.”
I rolled my eyes. “I swear, if its anything weird…”
“It’s not weird.” She assured me.
I turned to face Jonah, my house looming over us like certain death.
“Come here, you.” He smiled at me, a hint of sadness playing on the corner of his lips, in his brow.
I hugged him, his boy firm and warm next to mine.
“Tomorrow. We’ll be here at noon.” He said, reassuring me again.
“I know. I’ll live.” I laughed.
“I know. I love you.” He smiled down at me, kissing the top of my head.
I grinned up at him, his eyes bright. I kissed his nose and gave them a final wave as I wave as I walked into the house as they drove away.
“Hi.” My mom said kindly as I walked in. She looked healthier, her voice warm.
I looked around the room confused as to where my real mother could be.
Her eyes were bright, her skin clean and smooth of angry lines.
My stepdad sat on the couch next to my mom, waiting for my return.
“Hey, Stepdad.” I waved awkwardly, which he returned with an even more awkward wave.
“How was it?” they asked.
“Pretty good. We had a lot of fun.”
“How’s it feel to almost be eighteen?” Stepdad asked.
I rolled my eyes, smiling. “Don’t tell me that. I’m ignoring that to the best of my ability.”
He laughed.
My mom and stepdad were complete opposites. My Stepdad, first, was bald with dark brown eyes and a thick black goatee. My mother, was short, thick, with brown hair. But somehow. My Stepdad was kind. My mother lost her temper often. But somehow, they managed to keep it together.
“The whole family is coming up tomorrow. Grandma, grandpa, all of the cousins, everyone.”
“That’s comforting.” I sneered.
After a moment or so of silence. “How’s Jonah?”
I glared, my cheeks red. “He’s great.” I said, my voice shaking a bit from embarrassment.
“Seems so.” My mother said smugly.
“Well. What are we watching?” I sat down on the couch as the chatter continued to flow between us.
Hours later, we sat around the table, cardboard boxes stacked crookedly in the middle. I pulled the cheese off of a slice of pizza, swirled it around my finger.
Tomorrow I’d be eighteen. I’d make my own decisions, be able to move out, go to college. Laynie, Jonah, Bryce and I would be living together, and life would be good.
The phone rang in the other room.
“I’ll get it.” My mom said, pushing back her chair against the wooden floor and walking over to the phone.
“Hello?” she answered. She lifted her gaze me to me. My blood ran cold.
“We’re in the middle of eating right now.”
I hissed.
James. He wouldn’t stop calling now that he knew I was here.
She hung up, eyeing my posture curiously. “That boys been calling for weeks. Everyday.”
“Tell me about it.” I mumbled.
I pushed back my plate, no longer hungry and went into my room.
It still looked the same, except for a stack of laundry on my bed.
My bed was still torn to bits, the blankets hanging onto the floor. My favorite bear sat in the center looking as somber as ever.
My journals were in a pile by the side table, papers hanging out of the drawers.
I went around the room, touching each of my memories. Old photographs of friends from years ago. Paintings I’d done only months before, now seeming ancient.
The phone in my room rang and I yanked it from the receiver, my voice harsh.
“What?” I hissed.
James sat on the other line, sounding hurt and defenseless. I softened slightly, my bottom lip quivering, my knees shaking.
“I miss you.” He said, his voice hoarse and raspy.
“Why do you keep doing this? You’ve blown up Laynie’s phone for days. You’ve insulted Jonah. Leave us alone.” I demanded.
“Why are you doing this to us?” he whimpered. “I love you. All I’ve done is love you and want to be with you. Why can’t you see that?”
For a moment, I hesitated. I gained composure.
“I’m not doing anything to us. You did that a long time ago. There is no more us.” I snapped at him, my voice firm and low.
“How can you say that? We were together for two years. Two and a half years.”
“It doesn’t matter how long we were together. I shouldn’t have put up with any of it that long.”
“So you’re saying that you don’t give a fuck about all those times we were together. All of those times that we made love?” his voice went from soft to firm, his words crisp and sharp, poised for attack.
I recoiled and then boomed. “That wasn’t love.” I said loudly. “That was you using me! That’s all that ever was. You made me feel like shit, made me feel like I had to do those things to make you happy. You didn’t give a fuck about how I felt. I’m tired of waiting on you to say that you love me after you leave me every few months. It’s the same thing every time! You leave, say that you never loved me anyway, and then you come back a few months later saying that you’ve always loved me and you wished that you’d never let me go.” Angry tears ran down my face.
“But I do love you.” His voice soft again. “It’ll be different this time. I promise.”
“There is not this time.” I said, my voice shaking.
“Don’t cry, baby.”
“Don’t call me that!” I yelled into the receiver. I gained composure, my shudders and sobs quieting enough for me to speak again. I pinched the bridge of my nose. “I have to go. I’m tired and I have a lot to do tomorrow.”
“Okay. It’s your birthday tomorrow. I hope I can get down there to see you.”
“Don’t.” I said as firmly as I could, my voice weak, but my words certain.
“I love you.” He said hopefully.
I hung up, stomped to the front door, locked it, and then went back to my room to collapse into the comfort of my pillows.
“Tide.” My mom said, her voice gentle as she knocked on my door.
I groaned. “What?”
“Stepdad and I are running to the store real quick. It’s nine. There’s breakfast on the table. Laynie and Jonah called a little bit ago to say Happy Birthday and that they can’t wait to see you.”
I smiled. Of course they did. “Which reminds me. Happy Birthday.” My mom added.
“Thanks.”
I heard Stepdad echo her from the living room.
“Thanks!” I yelled back to him.
“Well, we’ll only be gone for a few hours. We’ll be back by noon for sure. Stay out of trouble.”
“Right.” I said, burying myself in the pillow as I heard my mom close the door behind her.
The car revved up in the driveway. And then they were gone.
I walked around the house, picking up a pancake off of the table and biting into it. I hadn’t bothered to change from the day before. My clothes hung loosely around me, wrinkled and smelling of sweat from the summer heat.
I hopped into the shower after finished the pancake and took my time to wash off the grime. I shaved my legs carefully, washed my hair.
When I turned the faucet, the shower continued to steam, the bathroom foggy and warm.
I blow dried my hair, then straightened it neatly before smearing make-up onto my face and exiting the bathroom.
I walked down to the basement, flopped down on the couch dressed in one of the outfits Laynie had bought me and turned on the TV, going straight for the cartoons.
I let myself day dream for awhile about seeing Laynie and Jonah.
The days at the cabin had been a blast. After creek stomping with Laynie only a few days before, Jonah and I had continued our stay at the cabin. We talked about art and music, working on a few paintings and songs here and there. We took walks around the garden and watched movies. I taught him how to make Norwegian Pancakes, and he continued to teach me what love was like.
Days blurred together now. Each day starting and ending with different events as if I’d been living the same day with a million different adventures. The perfect day…
It was nearing eleven thirty now. I’d vacuumed the family room and cleared off the couches and set up the foldable tables and chairs.
I waited for Laynie and Jonah to arrive with the decorations of their choice, and for my parents to get home with whatever they had chosen for a birthday cake.
I had a strange feeling that Laynie and my mother had been conspiring over the cake for several weeks via cell phone.
The door to the stairway opened and I scrambled, grinning happily as I expected to see Jonah or Laynie jump down the stairs to greet me. I froze, the hair on the back of my neck standing up, my hands balled into to fists. My knees quaked beneath me.
He wasn’t supposed to be here. My legs pressed against the back of the couch as he continued to come closer, making my skin crawl.
He asked me why I didn’t wait for him longer, he said he loved me.
I scoffed and glared, I told him that he didn’t know what love was. I told him that I had moved on and found someone else during the seven months that he had decided that I wasn’t good enough.
He shoved me down, the remote digging into my back. He pressed his mouth to mine. I tried to feel something for just a moment. I felt nothing. I squirmed under his touch, trying to pull away, to cry out. He grabbed my shoulders and shook me. My teeth rattled as my head slammed against wood. Warmth exploded in my skull and I closed my eyes, holding the memory of the boy I love, to the light.
Consciousness blurred. My vision swirling as I attempted to open my eyes.
What was happening? I tried to take in my surroundings.
Buzzing rang in my ears and I focused, trying to clear my head.
Words. Crashing. Dampened thuds.
I pushed myself up with my elbows and looked around, my vision blurry as tears streamed down my face.
“Hello?” I cried. “Who’s here?” I looked around in a panic to see two figures embraced.
Screaming. “Laynie?” I yelled. “Laynie!”
“Get off of him!” she cried.
I wiped my hands against my eyes, my vision focusing. James. Jonah.
I lunged, landing squarely on top of James. I pounded angry fists against his back, landing heavy blows to his sides.
Jonah struggled beneath him, blocking his face and body as best as he could.
The second James registered my presence he threw me off of his back and left Jonah.
James eyed me, his gaze darting across the expanse of my body wildly.
He lunged.
I screamed, ducking away from his grasp and running up the stairs, scrambling frantically.
I focused on what I would do as I led James away from the people I loved; leaving them to heal, while I took the bullets.
I threw open the screen door as I heard James slam into the kitchen table.
I hit the concrete at full speed, never looking back. My head was throbbing, lights spinning in front of my eyes.
James screamed obscene things behind me. His voice sounded far away, though I could feel his fingers scraping against my back as he continued to reach for me and miss.
His fingers snatched at my shirt and he gripped hard, pulling me backwards, my teeth rattled as my head slammed against the dirt.
“You think that I can’t have you?” spit shot from his mouth as he fumed. I heard the whirring of leather against cloth, the clinking of metal. He shuffled, pushing me down, one hand clamped both of my arms above my head, the other fumbled around.
I zoned out. Letting everything that I heard, saw, felt, leave my body. Sounds blended together in one deafening chorus. Trees smeared to form on dark cloud. And the pain overcame my body until I welcomed it with open arms.
It took a while for the scene to get good, but by the end I am pumped.