Chapter 23
A fter we get back to his house and Ethan tucks me into his bed, I finally let the hysterical sobs out.
I break down completely, curling into a ball and hugging a pillow to my chest. My body jolts violently with every sob, and I know I sound like I’m going crazy, but I can’t stop the sounds that are escaping my throat.
I knew she was capable of cruelty, but nothing like this. Even though I know she didn’t like me around, I thought she could at least pretend while I was still in school so I would have a roof over my head.
What’s crazy is she didn’t even like me being in the house. She’s always had an issue with me being around, talking down to me and giving me shit about nothing. But when I’m not in the house, she gives me shit for that too, calling me a whore and a slut. I can’t win.
For her to toss all my shit out on the lawn was both embarrassing and hurtful.
She could have called me to come and pack my stuff.
She could have texted me or even told Crystal to get in touch with me.
She could have done any number of things, but she chose to litter the lawn with everything I own.
Some of it was school books that I can’t afford to replace.
If I have school dues that aren’t paid, I won’t be able to walk across the stage and receive my diploma.
That makes me cry even harder and I can barely catch my breath. Ethan climbs in behind me and folds his body around mine, trying to soothe me with his presence. He tries to dry the tears from my face, but they’re coming too hard and too fast, and I can’t stop them if I tried.
It’s all the years of pent-up hurt and neglect finally coming out.
All the years I swallowed down the pain and distress that I’ve endured.
All the disregard and disdain from my mother, her hurtful words, my father’s absence.
All of it is coming out because she kicked me out.
It’s like the end of a chapter and, while I should be happy, I just feel unwanted, unloved, and discarded.
Ethan is a rock. He doesn’t move or let me go for as long as it takes for me to cry myself out.
By the time my sobs subside, the space under my head is drenched, and my face and neck are wet with tears. Ethan turns me over slowly and looks down at me, his eyes pained.
“I know it’s a stupid question,” he murmurs, “but are you okay?”
I can’t get words out, so I just shake my head.
He nods, then wipes the tears from my face.
He gently pushes up my shirt and pulls it over my head.
I notice then the large wet spot there, tears having dampened the fabric.
He goes to his dresser and grabs another shirt, then helps me slide it on.
He sits on the side of the bed and stares at me, his eyes so sad. I hate that he’s sad because of me.
“I’ll be right back, okay? I’m not leaving you. I just…” He stops talking and runs a hand over his face. “Give me a minute, okay?”
Nodding, I tuck myself back into a ball and close my eyes. I feel his weight leave the bed, then I hear the door open and close. My eyes grow heavy, and before Ethan comes back, I’m already asleep.
Feeling fingers on my face, I wake up to see Ethan lying beside me, stroking lightly across my cheeks.
“Hey, babe,” I croak out. God, my voice is fucked. From the crying and sleep, I hardly recognize my own words.
“Hey,” he greets me softly. He still runs his hand over my cheek and I shiver at the contact. “Sleep well?”
“Kinda. How long was I out?”
“Over an hour. My parents are home. They wanna talk to you.”
My stomach drops as I climb out of his bed. Will they try to get me to talk to my mother so I can go back home? Will they tell me to make things right with her so I have somewhere else to stay?
That’s probably why they want to talk to me. I don’t have anywhere else to go.
I could ask Crystal and her dad, but I’m sure they’re barely getting by with the two of them. He won’t be able to afford another mouth to feed.
Maybe I can get my dad to talk to my mother. I can go to his job, tell him what happened, and see if he can talk some sense into her. Let her know I’ll stay out of her way if she lets me come back home.
Ethan leads me out of the room. He walks over to the other wing of the house, the wing I’ve never been to, and knocks on a door.
I hear his mother answer, and we enter a real theater room.
There are two rows of recliners with a projector screen on the wall.
There’s even a popcorn machine, but I think that might just be for show.
I guess the living room is just for Ethan.
When she sees me, Grace stands immediately and hugs me. She squeezes me tightly and sniffles a little. Her arms around me are everything I’ve ever wanted from a mother, so warm, so welcoming. I wrap my arms around her and don’t want to let go.
She pulls me over to one of the recliners and sits me down. Ethan sits on the arm of the chair beside me, and Grace sits on Frank’s lap.
“Ethan told us what happened. I’m so sorry,” Grace says, swiping under her eyes. I really hate making people sad because my mother doesn’t want me.
“It’s okay,” I mumble.
“It’s not,” Frank says softly, but vehemently. “There’s nothing okay about putting your child out on the streets.”
Ethan rubs my back and I force back tears. I know neither Frank nor Grace would put Ethan out. No matter who he loved, they would never talk down to him or make him feel like shit because of it. They would love him through everything.
Grace grabs my hand. “You have no other family? No one else?”
Here it is. Here’s the moment they’ll ask me to go stay with relatives or beg my mother to let me come back home. The problem is I don’t have any relatives. There is no one else. Both my mother and father were only children, and both sets of grandparents are deceased. It’s just me and them.
“No. Just my mom and dad. It’s okay, I’ll give her a call and ask if I can come back.”
“Like hell you will,” Frank says with more bass in his voice than I’ve ever heard.
I startle slightly and move back into Ethan.
Frank rubs his hand over his face and gives me an apologetic look.
“No. You will not go back to a house where you’re abused.
You’re here often enough. You’ll stay here.
” He says that with a note of finality, one that I can’t really argue with.
I look back and forth between him and Grace and see the same determined look on their faces.
This isn’t them pitying me or feeling sorry for me.
This is them trying to take care of me. Being there for me when no other adult has.
I nod repeatedly and the tears I try to hold back make tracks down my cheeks.
“Oh, sweetie,” Grace whispers and comes over to take me in her arms again.
“It’ll all be okay now. You’re safe here.
” I cry harder because I haven’t really felt safe anywhere else but here.
At Crystal’s, my mother could always walk down the street and terrorize me if she wanted to.
She doesn’t know where Ethan lives. I could breathe here. I could be me here. I could be safe.
Here.
After I cry on her shoulder, Grace lets me go and Ethan wraps an arm around me, kissing my cheek gently.
Frank clears his throat and we both look at him. He looks awkward and I have a feeling I know where this is going. “Now, I know you two are eighteen. Adults, technically. But I want to say…be careful. Use…protection.” He grits that last part out and I hear Ethan groan behind me.
“Dad, please,” he huffs out. Despite my heartache, I chuckle.
“I’m just saying,” Frank says. He sounds uncomfortable as hell. Poor guy. “Ethan, we’ve had ‘the talk’, so that’s out of the way. Even still. Safety first.”
“Yes, sir,” I answer, knowing there’s nothing else I can really say. I clear my throat and swallow past the lump that’s lodged there. “Thank you. For letting me stay.”
The next few days are tough. I’m not sure why I’m so broken up about not being at my parents’ house anymore. I already had my exit strategy.
But fuck. The things she said. In front of Ethan, Crystal, and Isaiah. They were harsh, even for her.
For fuck’s sake, I’m still a virgin that didn’t like to talk to people other than Crystal before I followed Ethan outside like a weirdo.
When I wasn’t at home before I met Ethan, I was at Crystal’s, a house she could see when she stepped out on the porch.
So when would I have time to whore myself out?
Why doesn’t my mother want me? Why does she feel like I’m nothing? Because of my sexuality? That’s a tough pill to swallow because I would love for my mother to want me, but I would never change who I am just to gain her love.
Ethan has been there for me, comforting me with his presence. I know he’s dying to ask me how I am and how he can make it better, but there’s nothing he can do right now. I need to sort it through my head by myself.
I try to put on a happy face for Grace and Frank. They ask Ethan and I to help them decorate the tree. I join the conversation and do my best to laugh. I don’t want them to worry about me. I’m already so grateful that they let me stay here.
My mind-reading boyfriend knows me too well for me to pretend to be happy. While we’re trimming the tree, he casts glances at me and I try to send him small smiles, but I’m sure they look shaky and awkward. He returns them, but not very enthusiastically.
I’ve been sleeping in Ethan’s room so he can hold me.
I cry every night, something I really hate, but it still hurts.
They aren’t the body-heaving sobs like the day everything went down, but the tears make tracks down my face and Ethan is there to wipe them away.
Being tossed out like I’m nothing, hurts.