Bully Years Eleventh Grade （Second Semester） – Taylor
BULLY YEARS: ELEVENTH GRADE (SECOND SEMESTER)
TAYLOR
Audrey
Fuck you for lying on me, you bitch-ass SNITCH.
Can you say that in English?
I assume it was you who told my dad that you saw me sneaking out my window last weekend. (Nice touch sending photos )
Okay, so no. You’re ASSuming things as usual. How the hell could I have done that when I had an away game?
Just admit it was you, Taylor. (Was it?)
It was, but she didn’t ever need to know that…
I left her message unanswered and grabbed my tennis shoes. As I was walking downstairs, I spotted my mother sitting on the couch.
“I thought you were working late today,” I said. “Want to drive me to the field?”
“I’m too drunk to do much of anything, Taylor.” She knocked back a shot.
I moved closer, confused. The air reeked of alcohol and lemon cleaner.
Two vodka bottles stood guard on the coffee table. I’d never seen my mom drink anything other than a glass of wine.
“How long have you been sitting here like this?” I asked.
“That’s not important.” She shook her head. “I have some really bad news. You want it now or later?”
“Now.”
“Good.” She leaned forward and poured another shot, but I took it away from her.
“Your father and I have made the tough decision to go our separate ways,” she said. “We still love you very much, but… we won’t be living with him anymore. You and I have to move out; he’ll keep the house.”
I blinked.
“Do you have any questions, Taylor?”
The weight of her words was still slowly settling in my mind.
“Where is Dad now?” I asked.
“Probably with his mistress.” She sipped from her coffee mug. “I mean, he’s probably out somewhere. Any other questions?”
“No.”
“Well, good.” She set down the cup and motioned for me to give her a hug. “That was a lot easier than I thought. You took it very well.”
Tears fell past her cheeks, and she covered her face with her hands.
Sobbing into my chest, she cried words I couldn’t quite comprehend. All I could do was hug her until she stopped shaking.
Later that night, when my mom had cried herself to sleep, I slipped into the backyard. Pacing, I tried to think of when my dad would’ve possibly had the time to be with someone else.
He was always working, always busy.
Unless he was always lying…
I pulled out my phone and called him. I needed to hear the truth from his mouth.
It rang once.
It rang twice.
“Hey there, son,” he answered, not sounding distraught at all. “You caught me on my first break.”
“Mom said you’re getting a divorce.” I didn’t want to waste time on small talk.
“She was supposed to wait until tomorrow.”
“Well, she didn’t,” I said. “What did you do?”
“Son, this isn’t something I want to talk about over the phone.”
“What. Did. You. Do?”
“Taylor, it’s complicated,” he said. “And I’d rather discuss how you’re feeling about this instead of why it’s happening.”
“Stop avoiding my question, Dad.” I refused to let him divert this conversation. “Did you really cheat on Mom?”
The line went silent for several seconds.
“I fell in love with someone else,” he said. “It’s hard to explain, but… she’s who I want to be with for the long term. Your mother and I have been together since high school, and it’s been more of a roommate-and-co-parenting situation than being in love for a while.
“I happened to meet someone who showed me what love really means, and that’s what I’ve been missing for years. That’s what I need.”
I said nothing.
“When you get older, I’ll be able to explain it better, but love is a super complicated thing and—”
“Didn’t your marriage vows with Mom say you’d love her forever?”
“Yes, Taylor.”
“And till death do you part?”
“Yes.” He sighed, and for several moments, neither of us said a word.
I glanced over my shoulder and spotted my mother through the window.
Fresh tears fell from her red-rimmed eyes as she turned on the tea kettle.
“This doesn’t change anything between me and you,” my father spoke again. “I’ll always love you, I promise. And these next few months may be hard, but I can assure you that—”
My thumb hovered over the red button, hesitating for a fraction of a second—then I pressed it. Final. Irreversible.
I ended the call before he could complete that sentence and immediately blocked his number.
He clearly had no idea what the word promise meant, and I didn’t want to hear from him for a long time.
Still in disbelief, I returned inside and helped my mom make the tea. Then I waited until she fell asleep before grabbing the keys to my dad’s four-wheeler and buckling myself in.
I drove aimlessly through the neighborhood, the tires crunching over gravel, headlights cutting through the fog. Every street looked the same—quiet houses, sleeping families, people whose lives weren’t splitting in half tonight.
The more I drove, the heavier my chest felt. I didn’t want to cry. I didn’t want to feel anything. I just wanted noise.
So I revved the engine harder, took a corner too fast, and let the wind sting my face until it burned.
That’s when movement caught my eye—
A lone figure sitting under the yellow glow of the convenience-store sign, knees tucked up, ice cream in hand, like the world hadn’t just ended for the rest of us.
Audrey Parker.
For a split second, I almost wanted to tell her what happened.
Then the words curdled in my throat. Rage, grief, whatever it was—it flared bright and bitter.
She had no idea what had just imploded inside my house, and I wasn’t about to tell her. But I needed somewhere to put all that hurt.
And she’d always been the easiest place to start.
I pulled into the parking lot and killed the engine, gravel crackling beneath the tires.
“I don’t see what you could be smiling about,” I said. “Your life sucks.”
“That’s the best you have?” She arched a brow. “Circle around the lot, think of something a bit more cutting, and try me again.”
I blinked.
“Go on.” She licked her ice cream. “I have faith in you, asshole.”
I narrowed my eyes, but I did as she said. Then I circled around three more times before parking again.
“You may not have buck teeth anymore, but you’re still ugly,” I offered.
“What?” She snorted. “Did your brain reset to sixth grade? What the hell is that?”
“I want you to be miserable.”
“I usually am whenever you’re near,” she said. “I’m throwing you a lifeline here. I need to feel something.”
“I hate you, Audrey.”
“Go home, Taylor.” She rolled her eyes. “Refresh your cruelty settings and come at me with something harder tomorrow.”
“I thought you were grounded,” I said. “I wonder how your parents would feel if I called and told them you snuck out.”
“You wouldn’t fucking dare.”
“I would.” I pulled out my phone. “As a matter of fact, I think I’ll do that now.”
I’d stepped off the four-wheeler before I could even finish the threat. Gravel crunched under my shoes.
“Ugh!” She lunged toward me, knocking my phone to the ground. “Why the hell are you so effin—”
“My parents are getting a divorce.” The words rushed from my mouth.
Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, Taylor.”
“Don’t be,” I said. “The last thing I need is you being nice to me.”
“I’m not being nice to you at all.” She scoffed. “The sorry is for your mom.”
“Good.”
She returned my phone and pushed up from the ground.
“I should get home.” She sighed, then hesitated when I didn’t say anything. “Aren’t you coming?”
“What?”
“It’s super late,” she said quietly. “You probably don’t want to go back there right now. You can stay in my treehouse for a while if you like.”
“I don’t want your sympathy, Audrey.”
“I need to actually catch you going in there on video,” she said. “Since you lied about ruining my stuff in there last time, this is a win-win for us both.”
I gave her a blank stare.
“I’ll hold off on snitching for a month.” She shrugged. “But that’s as long as I’m willing to wait before paying you back.”
“You could always forgive and forget.”
“If it were anyone but you, I’d consider it.”
“Likewise…” I smiled and stood to my feet.
“How did you get out here?” I asked.
“I walked.”
“Bullshit.”
“I did.” She shrugged. “I had an audiobook to keep me company.”
“Want a ride back?” I pointed to the four-wheeler.
“Sure.”
She climbed on behind me, her hands clutching my shirt as we rode through the quiet streets. And like the conniving person she was, she motioned for me to cross the yard, giving her bedroom camera a perfect view of me “trespassing.”
As I was unrolling a mat, she joined me inside. Then she tossed me a blanket and a pack of Oreos.
Lying next to me, she stared up at the porthole above us.
“I’d never seen my mom cry before tonight,” I said. “My dad cheated on her, and I don’t think she’ll ever be the same…”
“She might end up being better.”
“How could you possibly think that?”
“Because she’ll never let anyone hurt her like that again, and she knows the truth about promises.”
I looked over at her, confused.
“They’re just words with good intentions,” she said. “They’re still capable of being broken.”
Silence.
“Hey, Audrey?”
“Yeah?”
“I can make you a promise that I’ll never break.”
“Don’t threaten me with your suicide and no follow-through.”
“I promise I’ll hate you forever.”
“I’ll hold you to that…”
For a long time after that night, I believed I meant it.
Until her name started sounding a lot more like a promise I never should’ve made.