Author: Estelle Maskame
Category: Romance
Go to read content：https://readnovelfree.com/p/10329_33
Even when dinner does roll around, though, my mood hasn’t improved. Mom was right, I am in a bad mood, and I can’t even hide the disgruntled expression I’m wearing as we all sit around the kitchen table. Minus Jamie. He’s at his friend’s house for dinner, which leaves us as only a family of five tonight. Mom is trying to keep the conversation happy and light, and Dave is talking about some meeting he had at work today, but I am totally tuned out.
I am staring across the table at Eden, my gaze never leaving her. I watch as her mouth curves when she speaks, as she glances down at her lap every so often, as she frowns unsurely when Mom sets a dish of barbecue ribs down on the table. She doesn’t ever really look at me. I think she is still waiting for me to choose which option I am taking in regards to Tiffani, but the truth is, I’m not taking either option.
“I can’t sit here,” I announce, pushing my chair back from the table and getting to my feet. The smell of those ribs is making me feel sick, but that’s not the only reason I refuse to stay. My desire for a hit is growing stronger every minute. “I’m heading back upstairs.”
Mom immediately looks at me. She is standing behind Dave, her hands on his shoulders, her smile faltering. “But yours is just comin—”
“I’ve got some stuff to do,” I cut in. Nothing will make me stay at this table, not when I can sense Eden’s anger at me. As I leave the kitchen, I call over my shoulder, “I’ll heat it up later.” Yeah, when the munchies kick in.
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I head up to my room, taking two steps at a time, and I fire Declan another message asking if he can hook me up as soon as he possibly can. I am desperate now, but he isn’t replying. I try to call Tiffani again instead, but it’s yet another failed attempt. If she doesn’t talk to me tonight, I will have no other choice but to turn up at her house tomorrow. That’s most likely what she wants me to do anyway. She’ll want to see me beg.
As I impatiently wait for Declan to get back in touch with me, I sit down on the edge of my bed and interlock my hands between my legs, focusing on nothing in particular as I try to calm my breathing. I listen to the silence in my room, inhaling, exhaling. It is quickly interrupted when Eden walks straight in without even knocking first.
“We’re watching Chase,” she casually informs me, her voice back to its usual husky tone. “Jamie’s maybe broken his wrist.”
My eyes immediately flick up to meet hers as my heart misses a beat. It is such a sensitive subject, and I am so protective that I am instantly on my feet and walking toward her. I am ready to kill someone. “What happened? Where is he? Who?” I ask, and already I can find my body heating up from the panic that is flooding through me. Dad used to break my wrist all the time.
Confusion crosses Eden’s calm features. “What?”
I shouldn’t have asked who did it. That was my subconscious asking that, a question that is so ingrained in me from my childhood. There was always someone behind my injuries. I clear my throat and swallow hard. “I mean, how?”
“I think he fell on it,” Eden says with a small shrug. She is still analyzing me, confused by my questions, and I know I slipped up there. I just hope she doesn’t think too deeply about it. “I heard you’ve broken yours, tough guy,” she adds in a lighter tone, a small smirk on her face.
What the hell? How does she know that? And why is she joking about it? I broke my wrist three damn times in one year, because my father was out of control. “Who told you that?” I demand.
“Um, Chase,” Eden says quietly. Clearly, she didn’t realize just what exactly she is reminding me of. She bites down on her lower lip and searches my eyes for answers. “What’s wrong?”
Oh, Chase. He can’t have told Eden the truth about Dad, because even he doesn’t know the truth. He only knows that growing up, his big brother always seemed so clumsy. “What else did the kid tell you?” I ask. I have to make sure. There are so many things his young, innocent self could say.
“Nothing,” Eden breathes.
I step closer to her, my eyes never leaving hers. “Are you sure?”
“Stop freaking out,” she tells me, though she looks uncomfortable with my reaction. “I’m sure.”
I should be trying harder to hide my emotions right now, but for some reason, when it comes to Eden, I don’t care if she sees. I’m alarmed at the thought of her knowing about my past, and she can most likely see the panic and the fear in my eyes.
“You know what?” I say, finally releasing all of my emotions in the only way I know how: as anger. “I can’t deal with this. I can’t deal with you and I can’t deal with Tiffani. I can’t deal with your dumb questions and I can’t deal with Tiffani’s whining. I can’t deal with any of it right now.” I walk away from her, striding into my bathroom and resting my hands on my sink. I keep my head low, focusing on my breathing again. I was trying so hard to keep it steady before Eden walked in on me. I need Declan to answer me. I need him to give me something that will allow me to forget about today for a few hours.
“You’re getting so worked up,” Eden says. She has followed me into my bathroom and I can sense her hovering by my side.
“Watch the door. The lock is fucked,” I tell her through gritted teeth. I am growing more frustrated with each second that passes. The bathroom seems to be getting smaller and smaller. I feel like I am suffocating. When Eden tries to place her hand on my arm, I can’t handle her touch. I flinch away from her.
“I need a hit,” I admit, my voice seething as I reach up to open my cabinet above my sink. I see my antidepressants, the bottle knocked over on its side. Did I take them today? I reach up to the top shelf and desperately fumble around until I find the cash I have stored up there. It’s some of the cash I’ve made from selling Declan’s shit, and lucky for him, it gets sent straight back his way. I’m a loyal client, I guess. I slam the cabinet door shut again, but when I try to turn around to leave, I find that Eden has thrown herself in between the door and me.
“Don’t even think about it,” she threatens, pressing into my chest. She has her chin tilted up, her jaw clenched, her eyes set solely on mine. She is being serious.
“Eden,” I whisper. I lean forward, moving my lips to her ear so that she can hear and understand me perfectly clearly, and I growl, “I. Need. A. Hit. Right. Now.” If only she knew just how desperately.
She glances down at the cash in my hand, then back up at me. “Because coke is totally going to fix everything, right?”
“Eden,” I say, this time more firmly. Right now, she really shouldn’t try and stop me. I am meeting Declan and getting the high I need whether she likes it or not. “Move your cute ass out of my way before you really piss me off. I gotta meet Declan.”
“I’m not letting you,” she says, pushing closer up against me, her chest against mine. Her gaze is fierce and unrelenting.
“It’s not fucking up to you!” I yell, slamming my hand into the wall behind her, right by her ear. As soon as I do it, I regret it. I don’t want her to see me like this, so angry and so desperate and so pathetic. I don’t want her to see my violent side, because violence is never, ever necessary. I learned that at a young age.
Suddenly, Eden slides out from in front of me and throws herself against my bathroom door. It falls shut and she presses hard against it until it clicks into place. All of the color drains from my face as my jaw hangs open. No fucking way did Eden just do that. We are now both trapped in here, in this tiny bathroom, just the two of us with no possible way out, and if I wasn’t suffocating before, then I definitely will now.
47
FIVE YEARS EARLIER
Principal Castillo rocks slowly back and forth in his chair, his hands interlocked over his stomach, his eyes never leaving me. His lips are pressed together into a thin line of both disapproval and disappointment. I’ve never been in his office before. There was never any reason to be here until now. We are sitting in silence, listening to the clock on the wall tick on by, and I am sitting on the opposite side of the desk. Principal Castillo is usu
ally nice, but everyone knows that he can be strict, and he doesn’t tolerate bad behavior, especially fighting, within his school. That’s how I know I’m in a lot trouble, and both my parents have been called. It’s just a matter of which one shows up first, and I am praying with everything in me that it won’t be Dad.
I glance down at the ice pack in my hand. My lip is cut open and my jaw ever-so-slightly aches, but it’s nothing too new to me. That’s why, instead of holding the ice pack to my mouth, I only turn it over in my hands repeatedly, trying to distract myself from the tension in this office. I’m not only going to be in trouble at school, but at home too.
“I’m . . . I’m sorry, Principal Castillo,” I mumble, glancing up at him again. We have already been over this. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”
“You don’t just do something like that for no reason,” Principal Castillo says. His eyes search mine, but I quickly look down at my lap and shrug. There’s no way I can tell him that I threw a punch at Blake Montgomery because I was really imagining him to be my dad.
“Blake said something I didn’t like,” I lie. “I overreacted. It won’t happen again, Principal Castillo. I’m really sorry.”
As soon as the words leave my lips, there is a quick knock at the door before it swings open. I crane my neck, looking back over my shoulder. Officer Brown steps into the office first, followed by Dad. My heart sinks into my stomach and I swear that for a second, I stop breathing entirely. He doesn’t look at me.
“Thanks for getting here so quickly,” Principal Castillo says. He stands up and stretches over the desk, shaking Dad’s hand firmly, while nodding to Officer Brown, who leaves the room again, clicking the door shut behind him. “Please, take a seat.”
Principal Castillo sits back down, and Dad sinks into the chair next to me. He sits forward, his foot anxiously tapping the floor, his knee shaking. “What is this about?” he asks, but I can hear the quaver in his voice. He’s nervous. Not mad. Not yet. He doesn’t know why he’s been called here. Does he think . . . Does he think they know? Does he think I’ve told them the truth? The truth about him?
“Tyler was involved in a fist fight during lunch period,” Principal Castillo states. He fires me another scolding glance. He probably didn’t even know my name until today. I’ve always been a good kid, always flown under the radar.
Dad inhales a sharp intake of breath. I think he is relieved at first, but only for the briefest of moments. Then, the outrage sets in and he abruptly straightens up in his chair, narrowing his eyes across the desk at Principal Castillo. He still doesn’t look at me. “A fight? Tyler was fighting?” he asks in disbelief.
I’ve never hit anyone in my entire life before. Except maybe my brothers when we were younger and would fight over action figures and the Game Boy. But that doesn’t count. This is the first time I’ve hit someone with every intention of hurting them, and I still don’t know why I did it. I lost control, just like Dad does. Blake Montgomery just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. It wasn’t his fault, but it’s never mine, either.
“Unfortunately so, Mr. Grayson,” Principal Castillo says. The wrinkles around his eyes are deep-rooted and his expression is so solemn that it makes him look even older. “During lunch period in the cafeteria. Officer Brown stepped in and pulled Tyler away before it got any worse, but there’s no place for any violence whatsoever on this campus. I have no choice but to suspend Tyler for the rest of today, tomorrow and next week.”
Dad’s jaw hits the floor. “Suspended?” he splutters, his eyes bulging straight out of their sockets. I thought I was only going to get detention, not a suspension . . . There’s no going back from this now. Dad is going to lose it. “Is the other kid getting suspended too?”
Principal Castillo shakes his head. He sits forward, resting his elbows on his desk as his thick eyebrows knit together. “When I say that Tyler was involved in a fight, Mr. Grayson, what I really mean is that he beat up one of our eighth-grade students. It was completely unprovoked, so no, Blake Montgomery won’t be suspended. Tyler, you’ll talk about this with Mr. Hayes when you return to school.”
Dad stares blankly at Principal Castillo. Then, so slowly, he turns his head toward me. His fierce green eyes lock onto mine and I can see the rage brimming in them. He doesn’t even blink. His jaw is clenched tight, his nostrils are flaring. “Thank you, Principal Castillo. Let’s go, Tyler,” he says through stiff lips. He stands up and I don’t dare to dither, so I quickly scramble to my feet.
“I’ll be in touch,” Principal Castillo calls after us, but Dad has already guided me through the door and into the hallway. Didn’t he see? Didn’t he notice the anger in Dad’s eyes and the fear in mine? Maybe only I can see it, because maybe I’m the only one who knows what to look for.
It’s fifth period and everyone is in class, so the hallways are empty and silent as Dad marches toward the main entrance. He is speed-walking, his strides wide, and I have to almost break out into a jog in order to keep up with him. He isn’t saying anything. That’s how I can tell that his anger is growing within him, building and building, because he can’t even open his mouth to say anything. His hand is balled into a fist by his side and his breathing deepens until we are outside and off campus.
“What the FUCK were you thinking, Tyler?” Dad yells, his voice a rumbling growl, and he throws me against his car. There goes those bruises again. A sharp pain flares up where my body bashes against the metal. He grabs me, both hands pulling at my hoodie, dragging me closer toward him. “You just got suspended! SUSPENDED!” He shakes me around, throws me back against the car again. I can see the veins in his forehead, defined and popping, his eyes engulfed by the fury that he can’t control. “You beat up a kid!”
“You do that too,” I whisper.
And I shouldn’t have said it. I shouldn’t have challenged him, because a new anger explodes inside of him as his glare becomes venomous. He stares at me in silence for a few seconds, registering my words, his chest heaving.
“Get in the car, Tyler,” he orders, his voice low and seething. He barges me out of the way as he walks around the car to the driver’s side, and as he opens the door and steps one foot inside, his glare sharpens across the roof of the vehicle at me when he realizes I haven’t moved yet. “Get in the fucking car!” he yells.
I’ve accepted my fate at this point. It is too late now to change the outcome. There is no going back from this, no calming Dad’s rage. Not after fighting, not after getting suspended, not after that remark. As I swallow hard and slide into the passenger seat, I am already trying to focus on something else. I am willing the numbness to set in, to save me, but it doesn’t arrive soon enough.
As soon as I pull the car door shut, Dad’s fist pummels into my face, and I feel every ounce of pain that comes with it.
48
PRESENT DAY
In the confines of my bathroom, Eden and I are staring back at one another in silence. I can’t quite process what she has just done. I am trapped, and I know she has done this on purpose. It’s almost brave of her, and if I wasn’t so desperate for a high right now, then I would most likely appreciate the effort. This morning, I would have loved nothing more than to be locked in here alone with her, but right now, in this mind frame, I just can’t see the positive side.
“Are you kidding me?” I splutter, narrowing my eyes at her. I need a distraction, and she has stolen that chance from me. I glance around the room, but there is no way out. I almost reach into my pocket for my phone, but it’s in my room.
“No,” Eden says. There is a smug sort of smile pulling at her lips, a challenging, devious one. One that says she doesn’t give a shit that we are trapped. She knows she has gotten the better of me right now, and she can’t even begin to hide her satisfaction.
I step around her, nudging her out of the way so that I can at least attempt to escape. I grab the handle and I shake it around, pushing and pulling, even pressing my weight against the door,
begging for it to open. The lock has been broken for over a year now, and I once got locked in here last summer and had to wait it out for four hours until Dave got home to get me the hell out.
“Just give up,” Eden says. She is watching me as I fight for my freedom, and I groan under my breath and step back from the door. It’s not going to open.
I can feel my heart racing from the panic I’m feeling arise at the thought of not meeting Declan. It pounds in my chest and my body feels tensed up and rigid. My mouth feels too dry. I place my hands behind my head and tilt my face up to the ceiling. I need to accept that I am stuck here, that I will not be getting the buzz I so desperately need. I close my eyes, breathing deeply, exhaling all of my negative energy. Or at least some of it. I open my eyes again and fix them on Eden. I still can’t believe she has done this.
“I’m sorry that I actually care,” she says, folding her arms across her chest. She isn’t backing down today. “You’re just going to have to find another way to distract yourself. An alternative. One that won’t kill you.”
My eyes are darting all over the room, and they finally settle on my reflection in the cabinet mirror. I hate how furious I look, so I drop my gaze to the floor instead. I don’t want to get angry at Eden. She is only trying to help me, and that is a lot more than anyone else has ever done. She does care, and I love that, despite how aggravating it can be. Today can be written off as a complete disaster, and the only reason I am craving something stronger than just alcohol right now is because my head is such a mess from the thought of Eden cutting me off. “You were becoming my distraction,” I admit, lowering my voice. I can’t look at her. “But apparently I can’t have you.”
Eden doesn’t say anything at first. She is only quiet as she registers this new information, and I hear her inhale a breath of air. “Why am I a distraction?” she quietly asks.
I look up from the floor to meet her curious gaze. Eden doesn’t know it, but I don’t have to be Tyler Bruce around her, and that’s something so new and refreshing that it has become almost addictive to me. “Because you make things a little easier,” I finally tell her. This is the truth, and the truth is not something I am usually great at dealing with. “Because I get to focus on you instead of everything else.”