Chapter 16
ELLIE (SOPHOMORE YEAR, HIGH SCHOOL)
Abiting gust of wind caresses the back of my neck as I flip through the pages of my philosophy book. I pull my hood up over my head to protect myself from the icy draft and start my notes on Aristotle. My final exam is tomorrow, so I am getting some last-minute studying done while I wait for Nate.
I sit at the top of our school’s stadium bleachers, bundled in my puffy silver North Face coat and gloves, while Nate runs the track below.
Football season is over, but he’s keeping up his routine to ensure he doesn’t lose his scholarship to Ohio State.
Despite the morning frost and chilled breeze, the weather has been mild enough for Nate to continue his outdoor routine—even this late into December.
December
We only have seven more months together until he leaves for college. The thought of being separated from him sends a chill down my spine. He’s become a safe place for me. My favorite person, the only person I want to spend time with.
The only bed I feel safe in…
I don’t even feel this immense peace when I’m with my sister—which is less and less often now that she attends that fancy academy in Pennsylvania.
It’s a school for gifted kids, which is why I don’t attend—a fact my dad won’t let me forget.
Katie didn’t want to skip any grades, so this school was the next best solution.
Mom didn’t think they could afford it, but Dad made it happen, surprisingly, though Katie thinks he just wanted her out of the house.
Despite her deep attachment to me, I think she was just as happy to leave.
When my dad drinks, it’s hard on everyone.
When my dad doesn’t drink, he’s just an unbearable asshole.
My mom says he has post-traumatic stress disorder, even though she knows his actions and insults extend beyond a life of combat.
His drinking may be attributed to the trauma he endured, but his hurtful words and actions?
Those are all him. Still, she firmly attaches those rose-colored glasses to the front of her face and shields her vision from reality.
She latches on to anything she can, determined to pretend my father is not the man her family said he was.
Two bottles of wine a night makes this a lot easier to accomplish.
When my dad drinks, it’s no secret that he doesn’t feel very…
fatherly. He makes that abundantly clear after a fifth of vodka.
But his contempt for Katie exists when he’s sober as well.
It’s made even more clear with his deliberate inactions.
He’s the only father figure Katie’s ever known, but he still refuses to give her his last name.
He’s determined to keep her an outcast in this family no matter how desperately she aches for his love.
Me? I would happily go without it.
There was an unusual change in my dad about three years ago.
He went months without speaking to me or even looking at me.
He was sleeping in the guest room, avoiding my mom at every turn.
Katie and I were hopeful for a divorce, but as sudden as the change came on, things returned to normal.
Only now we had the money to send Katie to school.
We had college funds. We were no longer a family barely surviving between paychecks.
I assumed my mom’s family gave them her inheritance.
I thought maybe she had asked for it, and that was what caused the temporary rift between them.
Regardless, the family dynamic went back to normal. Everything is routine once again, except for the way he looks at me now.
A mixture of disgust…and something else.
My dad started to get very—affectionate—around me when drinking about two years ago.
The more comfortable he gets, the more comfort he seeks…
and the more uncomfortable I become. I’ve told my mom about his unsettling behavior more than once.
She just laughs it off and accuses me of being dramatic, giving those glasses a nice firm tug.
He’s been drinking a lot more lately, so I’ve been finding comfort at Nate’s house. I spend most nights sneaking into his bed beside him, and I’m starting to find that I can’t fall asleep without him holding me. Nate provides me with the type of security I’ve never felt before.
Last week, he had an overnight campaign with his father, so I was forced to sleep at home.
I stayed at the library as late as I could, but the librarian was quick to kick me out at closing.
When I came home, I found my dad passed out in my bed, a bottle of jack on my nightstand.
I was too afraid to fall asleep in the guest room without a lock, so I took a blanket out to my car and slept in the back seat.
I set the alarm in case he came looking for me.
I shudder at the thought of him in my bed, likely waiting on me to return. The thought of being home alone with him sends waves of nausea, unsettling my stomach.
I haven’t told Nate about my dad’s behavior when he’s intoxicated.
Sometimes when he’s sober.
I’m not worried it will change his feelings for me.
I’m not even concerned about the actions that knowledge may inspire.
I just don’t want to put any more on his plate.
He’s been so happy lately, and he is so close to escaping his own personal hell.
I don’t want to add to it or give him a reason to stay behind. Not when he’s so close.
We decided to keep our relationship private until he is out from under his father’s influence.
I intend to keep it discreet until I am far away from mine.
Unfortunately, keeping our relationship private entails watching half the female population throw themselves at Nate throughout the day.
I don’t blame them because I am just as desperate for him.
Some girls might be bothered by it, but I trust him completely.
My thoughts are interrupted by the sound of footsteps climbing the perron that separates the rows of benches.
I glance over at the large concrete rungs, so tall they match the height of the pews in each tiered aisle.
The large steps would make anyone’s thighs burn, so it seems strange that someone would climb all the way to the top just to observe the nearly empty track below.
Especially considering all the other rows are empty except for the one I am sitting in.
I squint my eyes, trying to make out my visitor. The sun is bright despite the chilly air, so I use my hand as a visor to block out the glaring rays. An attractive older man trudges up the stairs with an ease I did not exhibit.
Well. That’s embarrassing.
I assume he must be getting some exercise…in a suit, so I give him his privacy and I look back at my book. A few moments later, I hear a throat clear and feel the presence of the man settling onto the concrete seat beside me.
“Quite the journey for a place to study,” he says, a smile in his voice.
“I’m a big fan of fresh air,” I say back, deciding he sounds friendly enough. What is he going to do at the top of the bleachers anyway? Especially with my boyfriend running laps down below.
When he doesn’t say anything else, I turn my head to study him.
He’s looking out at the track, watching Nate run around the mile-long circle.
His hair is dark brown, cut short, and neat.
His eyes are a deep shade of green, but they lack the laugh-lines I’d expect at his age.
His skin is tanned, and I can immediately tell that it’s not natural.
Looks are important to him, that much is clear.
Something about him feels familiar, but in all the wrong ways.
I don’t feel the same warmth looking at him that I heard in his voice when he approached me.
It takes a certain level of skill to fabricate that degree of sincerity, so I put my guard back up.
“He’s good,” he points to Nate, “very athletic, that one. He probably has a very…set future. One that will take him far in life.” His statement sounds like a challenge, but there is nothing I want more for Nate. I’m not quite sure what he expects me to contest.
“Yeah.” I smile, unable to disguise my affection for him. “He’s going to do really great things.”
“It would be a shame if something got in the way of that.” The tone of the conversation shifts, his words coated with an icy callousness. I start to feel uncomfortable sitting so close to this man I don’t know.
“I guess it’s a good thing he doesn’t let anything get in the way of what he wants,” I reply as I begin to pack up my books. I’ll wait for Nate in the gym.
The man grabs ahold of my wrist, effectively stopping all movement. I suddenly feel stupid for not thinking anything could happen up here. Of course something can happen! He could throw me down these bleachers for starters.
“I didn’t mean to run you off. Please, sit.
” His request brokers no argument. I feel myself involuntarily lowering back down onto the cement slab, a shiver working its way through my body.
I’m not sure if it’s the drop in temperature or the man sitting next to me.
“An ivy league school would be the best option for a boy like that,” he continues as if he didn’t just have my arm in a death grip.
“If that’s what he wants, sure.” I find myself getting pissed. Who the hell does this guy think he is?
“What one wants doesn’t matter. A solid future is what is important. A career that offers longevity and allows for financial gain.”
“If he wants a job with a lot of money, he will have it. If he wants to work as a server at a restaurant, he has my support just the same.”
“That’s disappointing.” The pure hatred in his tone paralyzes me. I was just threatened. Not by the words, but by the way he said them. “You look very familiar to me. Tell me, what’s your father’s name?”
“Christopher Hansel,” I answer before my common sense comes flooding back to my brain. I was in a state of shock, I didn’t even think before I spoke. Shit, shit, shit. I just gave the man that threatened me, my family name.
Disregard for danger? One.
Situational awareness? Zero.
The unnerving asshole stands up, and a malicious smirk forms on his lips, promising all sorts of evil murderous activities in his future.
Okay. That may be dramatic.
But it is creepy.
He turns to face me. “We all live in glass houses. Houses built on top of the dirt we try to keep buried beneath the foundation. The only way to guarantee personal success is to dig out the houses around you, find the dirt, and expose it. The victor is always the man with the biggest shovel.” He looks down at me and gives me a sympathetic smile.
“I always have the biggest shovel, Ellie.” He turns his back to me and begins to walk down the center stairway.
“I never told you my name,” I shout at his back, alarmed that he already knew it.
“No, you didn’t,” he replies over his shoulder as he jogs down the remaining stairs, disappearing before I can figure out what the hell just happened.