10. Hendrix #3
There’s a marring of disgust on my face, but my insides?
Well, a backstabber's story is not one worth telling.
“Did you not see how he acted the day you guys showed up at the condo?”
A frown forms between her brows, as if knowing I’m right.
“Why is that exactly? He’s been refusing to tell me.”
The information is not necessarily new, given if Saint did tell Theory what I said, I’m sure she’d prefer drowning me in the pool instead of demanding two Coladas from Benson the way she is now.
The fact he still hasn’t is not something gone unnoticed, or without lack of appreciation.
Even if it’s only to spare his sister’s feelings.
Saint may be a psycho, but his loyalty to those he cares about is unmatched.
“Theory,” Stanley warns from across the pool.
“Relax, Stan.” She winks at me. “He knows to make them virgin.”
This time, it’s her who has me laughing.
“So…spill,” she presses.
I weigh the scales long enough for Benson to prepare our Coladas, knowing if there ever was a time to come clean to Theory, it’d be now, when her brother isn’t here and she can get my side of the whole story.
Or at least, like, fifty percent.
I’m almost convinced, but then her wide chestnut eyes light up with the sight of fruity drinks being handed to us, and I can’t help but feel like I’d be ruining the only great thing to come out of this mess.
I found a new friend in Theory, even though there’s still reluctance on my end. Plus, I’ve said sorry to her in my head like a million times, that’s got to count for something.
She takes a long, satisfied sip, and I do the same, deciding I will continue to make amends indirectly to protect our growing relationship.
“I said something to piss him off, now he hates me.”
Her face falls. “Girl, c’mon? That’s all you got?”
I hike a shoulder. “It was really fucked up.”
Theory concedes with a nod. “I get it, I’ve said my fair share of fucked up things to someone too.”
Someone…as in a certain biblical sea monster ?
I’m itching for the tea but am in no position to drink it. So, instead, I offer a sip of unsolicited advice.
“Well, don’t beat yourself up too hard for being human.”
“True.” She slurps through the straw. “But I still haven’t even said I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well, neither did I.”
“Do you hate my brother too?”
“Abso-fucking-lutely. He’s done way more shitty things to me. Most of which I’ll never forgive.”
“He’s not all bad, Hendrix.” She pauses, thinking. “I mean, yeah, Saint can be pretty scary and mean. But his heart is in the right place.”
I raise a brow, and she lets out a huff.
“ Most of the time. ”
“I was literally on a bed with another dude. Half naked. He embarrassed the shit out of me.”
She nods in solemn agreement. “I know. But he had his reasons.”
“Other than making me a sexual pariah?”
“No. Lance sucks. Trust me. The guy just got out of prison for beating up his ex-girlfriend.”
“Prison? He told me he was in college?”
“Exactly. We hate him. In fact, his entire family too. They just get under Saint’s skin easier than mine.”
Yeah, well, he sure made up for it by getting under his.
I bite the tip of my straw, curious to know more. “Why?”
“They’re from our mom’s side…and share many of her traits. Even though my father refuses to see it because Lance’s parents go to the same church.”
Well, shit.
I’d be stupid to believe Saint was looking out for my wellbeing, but I am slightly relieved about the pariah thing.
“Can we talk about… the lights ?”
Her eyes flutter closed before squeezing, then blink open as she says, “Let’s just enjoy the warm weather, yeah?”
Here we go.
“How long will you guys expect me to ignore what I saw?”
“And what exactly did you see , Hendrix?”
There’s a sharp bite to Theory’s tone, a familiar one. Reminding me with whom she shares blood.
“We both know exactly what I saw. Don’t play dumb, I know you’re not.”
“He gets some mood swings. Can we please leave it at that?”
I should refuse. Get up to demand the answers I stuck around to get. But I can’t. Not with how Theory is becoming sad and dejected while she looks down at her drink.
“For now.”
“Really?” She perks up.
“Yeah.”
“Thank you so much. You know…for everything.”
A.K.A. not calling the cops on her maniac brother.
“Stupidity is another side effect of being human.”
Theory snickers, holding out her glass for me to clank. “Well, then here’s to being human.”
I hold out mine, too, tapping it against hers. “To being human.”
Hours later, in between lighter chats, water gun fights, even a couple rounds of blinking contests with Carlo…Theory and I have done everything possible to shake the awkwardness and make the best of our time together.
The peak heat of the day has way passed, and now, here we are, two girls sipping their third Pina Coladas, staring out into the setting sun over the Manhattan skyline.
“So, guess what he did?” Theory rambles on with another childhood story about her and Saint.
“He stole our dad’s Amex and bought out every single Barbie in the store.
Online too. Then had Stanley drop them off in front of her house.
Shit was hilarious. Saint even went as far as taking pictures with his phone and plastering them all over the school. ”
A fair punishment for Madison, the evil little second grader, who told Theory only losers play with Barbies.
I nod along with her as she continues, trying to comprehend how a guy she describes as the most loving older brother, can be as cruel and cold and brutal as he is.
“So…you have a lot of run-ins like this with your peers?” I ask in an attempt to stay on track. “I know you mentioned girls were bitches overseas, but was it that bad when you attended school in the states?”
Theory chews at the corner of her lip. “I’d say from like third grade on…each grade worse and worse.”
“They didn’t cause that, did they?” My gaze lowers to her jaw.
“My scar?” Theory shrugs. “Nah…broke my jaw falling down a flight of steps as a kid.”
Damn.
“Well, that sucks. But I’m at least glad nobody caused it.”
“Yup.” Theory chuckles uncomfortably. “Nobody. Just clumsy little me.”
“So, what did these kids do to you?”
“Well, for starters, my speech. It was severely delayed after my jaw shattered.”
I leave out the fact I already suspected this, and allow her to continue.
“Then from sixth to eighth it was my speech and appearance.”
Her appearance? The girl is a bombshell—like a younger version of Nina Dobrev.
“They called you ugly?”
She shakes her head. “No. The opposite. Apparently being pretty meant I’d never have brains. Or be good for anything else besides my looks since I couldn’t speak properly.”
“You know that isn’t true, right? In fact, I barely notice your lisp and stutter anymore.”
“That’s because you haven’t seen me triggered yet.”
“Whatever, dude. You still seem to have come a long way.”
She shrugs. “Yeah, I guess. I mean…I finally stopped needing speech therapy in high school. But the bullying continued.”
Oh boy.
“What else did they do?”
“Freshman year someone started a rumor that I wasn’t a virgin…”
Yikes. Enough said.
“Was it true?”
“No.” She huffs. “But that didn’t stop me from being called a whore all the time. Even though most of the girls in the boarding school weren’t even virgins themselves.”
Fucking shit.
Where can I catch the express train to Hell?
I ignore the twinge in my chest, semi hating and loving the fact I chose to keep my mouth shut about what I called Theory.
“I hope you stuck up for yourself.”
“I mean, yeah. Told them to fuck off and eventually became numb to it. Pretended I didn’t care in hopes they’d stop.”
“That must’ve been really tough. I’m sorry.”
She blinks over at me, eyes shining with held back tears.
“I’d cry myself to sleep every night—sometimes still do when I see what those girls say about me on social media.
” Theory pauses, her pointer circling the brim of her cup.
“And now, since everyone knows I got caught hooking up with two guys on the football field, the name calling has already begun.”
“Have you told Saint?”
“Do you think they’d still be breathing if I did?”
Fair point.
“Well, now you have me.”
Theory seems appreciative, but for a sixteen year old girl, what happens after the bullying is rarely enough to thwart the pain.
A pain I willingly contributed to.
Nope, not going there again.
Actions speak louder than words and I fully intend to prove how much.
When I spot the first tear rolling down Theory’s cheek, my arms open for a hug.
“Come here, girl.”
Theory doesn’t hesitate for a second before taking me up on my offer, resting her chin on my shoulder.
“Their shit actions are not a reflection of you, okay? It’s a reflection of them.”
“Yeah.” She sighs. “But things like this stick with you, ya know? It always hurts.”
“Well, I promise I’ll never hurt you…”
“I know.”
“And I’ll be here anytime you need a reminder of how awesome you are.”
“I know that too.” There’s a long beat of silence before she says, “I’m so happy to have you as a sister.”
More pain. Miserable fucking pain floods my insides. Because she shouldn’t. Not really.
I just…I’m really starting to like Theory. Maybe even…I don’t know…seeing some potential for me to feel the same.
“I’m happy to be here for you.”
If Theory is bummed by the response, she doesn’t make it obvious as she cuts our embrace with a shake of her shoulders.
“’Kay, enough of the sappy shit.” She places her cup on the table. “I think we need another drink.”
Amen to that.
Theory snaps her fingers and Benson nods, getting to work.
“So, tell me—” A ping on her phone cuts her off, and she swipes it eagerly off the table to check the text.
Her face falls as she stares at the screen.
“So, I take it you miss him?”
“I always miss Saint when we’re apart.”
“Well…do you know where he is? Maybe you can call him.”
She stiffens, then places the phone next to her cup. “I told you, silly. With our family in Europe.”