Chapter 8
“Coming here is a colossal mistake,” Jiminy gripes, trailing behind me into the building.
I sigh, pinching the bridge of my nose. He bitched the entire walk here. I usually avoid school functions, but Zilphia’s going to be here tonight. I need to speak to her before I lose my nerve.
We stroll down the hallway, bypassing a few kids tucked in corners doing only God knows what. I haven’t seen an adult yet. They probably wouldn’t care anyway. Most turn a blind eye to the shit that goes on around here. They do the bare minimum to keep their biweekly checks coming in.
“We’re parading straight into the lion’s den,” he adds, continuing his gloom and doom narrative.
A giggling couple darts past us, undoubtedly seeking privacy to engage in some teenage debauchery.
“You insisted on coming, remember?” I remind him. “I told you to stay your ass home.”
“Who else is going to have your back when things go south, hmm?” he asks, pursing his lips into a paper-thin line.
“You know, silence is a virtue,” I deadpan.
“Excuse me for trying to talk some sense into you,” he huffs, flinging his arms up in exasperation.
“Positive thoughts equal positive results,” I tell him.
Jiminy scoffs. “You’ll be singing a different tune when Nolan and his henchman beat the brakes off you.”
“Well, at least you’ll be right beside me, getting the brakes beat off you too,” I joke, flicking his earlobe.
He smacks my hand away. “Oh, you think putting our lives in jeopardy is funny?”
“Relax, no one’s dying tonight, except maybe you, if you don’t chill the hell out.”
“Can’t wait to say I told you so,” he grumbles under his breath.
I ignore him and squeeze through the crowd mingling near the gymnasium entrance.
All dressed to impress. Me? Same threadbare jeans and scuffed sneakers that scream “nobody.” I’d love a steady job, but there aren’t many positions available in town, and public transportation is nil.
If I had a car, finding work would be a breeze.
The instant we push through the double doors, my gaze scans over the gaudy yellow-and-purple-decorated gym, searching for Zilphia. It’s jam-packed, making it difficult to locate her among the attendees.
“Ah fuck,” Jiminy mutters.
“What?” I ask, prepared to spring into action if somebody’s looking to start some shit.
He jerks his head to the left. “Over there.”
The music and boisterous chatter fade away until the only sound inundating my eardrums is the blood thundering in my veins. Black spots dance in my vision. I blink once. Then again—hoping I’m wrong. But there she is.
Redmond’s slimy hands mold over her bottom, pulling her flush against him like he owns her.
“Let’s get outta here,” Jiminy says.
“No,” I grit out, storming toward the gyrating bodies.
“Don’t be stupid, man. She’s not worth us getting our asses kicked,” Jiminy calls after me.
I latch onto Redmond’s shoulder and spin him around.
“What the—” I swing. My fist crushes his nose, and he folds like a chair.
“Oh my God,” Zilphia gasps, clamping a hand over her mouth.
Before the sheep realize one of their precious idols was dropped by a nobody, I’m already barreling out of the rear exit with Zilphia in tow.
“Are you insane?” she yells, her heels scraping the vinyl tile as I drag her behind me. “Let me go!”
After trying several doorknobs, I find an unlocked classroom and haul Zilphia inside.
The candescent moon shines through the tall, rectangular casement windows lining the entire back wall, casting her in a fluorescent glow.
She’s breathtaking. The short clinging dress displays her cleavage and shapely legs.
And fuck…
Her shimmery white-polished toenails are the beautiful bow on the package. Zilphia’s feet deserve the highest praise. The soft, slim soles are perfection. I’ve fantasized about gliding my tongue over the delicate arches more times than I can count.
Every inch of her is designed to wreck me.
“Do you realize what you’ve done?” she asks, nervously wringing her hands. “People will for sure talk now.”
“I don’t give a damn!” I roar, my nostrils flaring in anger. “How could you let him touch you like that? That fucking bastard doesn’t deserve to be anywhere near you!”
“Redmond’s my date, and we were just dancing.”
“Your date!” I bellow. She stumbles back a few steps, her lips quivering. “You never said anything about a date!”
“I’m not obligated to tell you everything that goes on in my life!”
I close the distance between us. “You didn’t tell me because you know it’s fucking wrong!”
“You and I are just friends, Sam,” she fires back. “I’m sorry if you got the wrong idea.”
“Bullshit.” I grip her arms. “We kissed.”
“No.” She jerks her head from side to side. “You kissed me.”
I rub my forehead along hers. “And you kissed me back.”
“It was a mistake,” she whispers, her voice cracking the slightest bit. “Please don’t make this harder than it has to be.”
Mistake. That one word hurt more than anything I’ve ever endured. But it’s still nothing compared to my fear of losing her.
“You’re lying.” My throat muscles clench and warm tears drench my cheeks. I’m a snowflake for crying, but she’s my soulmate. I can’t lose her.
“Please don’t cry, Sam,” Zilphia pleads, emotion spilling out with every word.
I gently cradle her oval face in my large hands. “I love you.”
“Sam—”
I swallow her words, closing my lips around hers, pouring my desperation into her. Telling her without words that she is my North Star, brightening my path across the murky, treacherous sea of my life. I need her to understand the sincere depth of my feelings.
With a gasp, Zilphia twists her fingers into my shirt, responding to my urgency.
Thank God.
She said yes.
To me. To us.
My hands travel the length of her spine and skate under her dress. I finger the waistband of her tiny thong before gripping her velvet-smooth bottom and lifting her onto a desk.
“I love you, Zilphia,” I rasp against her lips. “I love you so fucking much—”
The door slams open and light floods the room. “What the fuck are you doing with my sister?”
Zilphia scrambles off the desk, stark terror transforming her features. I face down Nolan, Redmond, and three other guys. Satisfaction puffs my chest at the sight of Redmond’s swollen nose.
“Nolan, I—”
“Save your excuses,” Nolan barks, jabbing an accusing finger in her direction. “You’re nothing but a fucking whore.”
“Call her another name and stars will be the next thing you see,” I growl, taking a threatening step toward him.
“Enough yapping,” Redmond snarls. “This hillbilly needs to be taught a lesson.”
“Wait till Momma hears about this,” Nolan crows, rolling up his sleeves. “She’s going to beat your ass good, but first I’m going to crack your boyfriend’s skull.”
“I-I h-have no idea w-who this guy is,” Zilphia stammers. “I-I s-swear.”
“Liar,” he accuses, his mouth twisting into an ugly sneer. “You were all over each other. From here on out, your life is going to be a fucking nightmare.”
She shakes her head, panic flickering in her wide eyes. “He forced me in here… and just started kissing me. But I’m fine, really.”
“Zilphia,” I whisper, her words hitting like a bullet to the chest.
This isn’t the girl I fell in love with.
Her betrayal is more crippling than the deadliest poison on Earth. We could’ve stood together in unity, but she chose to throw me to the wolves to save her own skin. Like mother, like daughter after all.
“Motherfucker!” Nolan shouts and rushes me, clocking me in the jaw.
I quickly recover and retaliate, landing a two-piece combo to his grill.
The group converges on me and wrestles me to the floor.
Five to one—the odds aren’t in my favor.
Fists and expensive shoes fly, pummeling my body.
I nestle my knees to my stomach to protect my vital organs and curve my forearms over my head.
Luckily, adrenaline numbs me against the brutal beating.
“Stop!” Zilphia cries, hurling herself between me and my attackers.
Too little, too late.
She sealed my fate the moment she falsely accused me of sexual assault. No point in pretending to care now.
Nolan pushes her, and she crashes into the whiteboard. “Stay out of this!”
“Cocksuckers!” Jiminy roars, coming to my rescue, but a blow to the face takes him down too.
Two on him. Three on me. As he predicted, getting our asses beat.
“Move!” Nolan orders.
The battering stops, and something hard is smashed against my temple. Then… complete darkness.
“Sam, wake up.” Jiminy’s worried voice penetrates my fuzzy brain. “Can you hear me?”
My eyes blink open to his bruised face hovering above me. I grimace, struggling to an upright position, though my body protests in agony. I scan the four corners of the classroom, searching for her.
“She’s gone,” Jiminy answers my unspoken question and offers me his hand. “You were out for about five minutes. That fucker Nolan decked you with a chair.”
I slump my weight onto the nearest desk. “She said she didn’t know me,” I murmur.
“I know.”
Zilphia tore my heart out and spat on it. She didn’t just leave me. She left me bleeding—literally.
And somehow, I still love her.
But it’s a twisted love now—the kind that wants to maim. I want to hurt her and worship her at the same time. She’s my weakness… the one person who could break me. I thought she was my savior, but she was my tormentor in disguise all along… just a trick of the light.
“Your ear is bleeding,” Jiminy observes. “You should go to the hospital to play it safe.”
“Give me your lighter,” I say, ignoring his advice.
He delves into his hoodie pocket and drops the small brass canister in my outstretched hand. I detest cigarettes, but tonight his bad habit works in my favor.
“Go home,” I instruct him and hobble toward the door.
Jiminy barricades himself in the doorway. “What are you going to do?”
“It doesn’t concern you. Go home,” I reiterate between grinding teeth.
“Leave it be, Sam,” Jiminy warns. “Zilphia made her choice. The pretend world you two created was bound to crumble eventually.”
Jiminy pours salt into the festering wound, and the last fiber holding my control intact unravels. I capture his neck and slam him into the wall.
“Go the fuck home!”
I release my hold and burst into the hallway, taking off at a dead run. Identical to the rainy night almost five years ago, a voice beckons me, but it isn’t destiny’s lulling drawl. It’s wrath’s sinister monotone, goading me on, demanding I burn it.
Burn it.
Burn it.
Burn it.
My rumpled sneakers sail over the terrain at top speed, only sliding to a halt when the tree house fills my vision.
Memories taunt me, cackling at the stupid boy for daring to hope.
I should’ve stayed in my own world. Violent tremors rock me to the core as tears fall down my cheeks. My heart is in ruins.
I want to forget her. Press the rewind button and change the course that led me to her doorstep. I peer at the inky-black sky, damning the Fates for cruelly tempting me.
Single-minded determination propels me across the freshly cut grass. I hop the wooden gate and clear the stairs to the tree house in seconds, then my rampage commences.
The TV’s first. Gone.
The bookshelf. Splintered.
Board games, memories, promises—all torn apart.
I stand in the middle of the wreckage, my rib cage heaving and mind in chaos. Still, above the clamor, the mantra persists, seeking my undivided attention.
Burn it.
Burn it.
Burn it.
I pick up Zilphia’s heather-gray fleece blanket and draw in her titillating honeysuckle fragrance, getting drunk off her sweet essence one last time.
My Zilphia. No, not my Zilphia.
I let the blanket slip from my fingers. The girl I thought I knew was a mirage.
I pluck Zilphia’s nail polish remover from the scattered debris, pour the clear liquid onto the futon, then set it on fire.
I stumble down the stairs and watch the flames spread, incinerating my once-coveted sanctuary.
Our story, our safe place… gone.