13. Chapter Thirteen
As usual, my mother has a tendency to lose her temper over the most trivial shit. She got pissed off by a phone call that disturbed her sleep. Unfortunately, it was the principal on the other end, delivering the news that I had detention for the entire week.
Since I arrived home, she has been venting her frustrations about the situation. Thank goodness, the weekend is just a few days away, so I only have to survive two days of detention. Regardless, it”s really annoying sitting here and listening to her ramble.
After enduring my mother’s incessant rants for another forty minutes, I escape to my room. Determined to avoid her tirades, I focus on watching the clock, eagerly counting down the minutes until she leaves for work.
Suddenly, she taps on my bedroom door and barges in without waiting for an invitation.
”I”m heading to work now,” she announces, her eyes lingering on my keyboard. Then, they move slowly to explore the array of posters displayed on my wall.
Finally, her gaze lands on my father”s guitar, over in the corner. Her body tenses and her expression becomes stern. Her intense loathing for my father is evident. But still, he is a part of me. Sometimes I wonder if she hates me because of that.
Her gaze shifts back to me, and I can sense a clear sternness in her voice as she addresses me.
“Instead of just sitting around doing nothing. Why not take the initiative to find colleagues for Aged Care like I’ve been requesting for the past two months?”
I pause for a moment, then respond. “Because I don’t want to do that.”
She takes a few more steps into the room, folding her arms across her chest. “Since when?”
“Since forever, and you would know that if you bothered to listen to me.”
“Are you still going on about that music thing?”
I stand my ground, meeting her gaze.
“Yes, mother. I believe I possess more of my father’s qualities than you give me credit for.”
I can tell by her body language that my words have an impact. I notice her gulp at the mere mention of my dad.
“You’re just as delirious as he was. Music will never bring you money.”
“I couldn’t care less about the money.”
“No, because I’m the one who pays for everything in your life.”
“I don’t care what you say. I’m choosing music, not aged care.”
“You are so much like your father.”
“Well, I’d rather be more like him than like you,” I remark, standing up from the bed, no longer interested in listening to her. I make my way towards the keyboard as if I’m about to switch it on. I’m aware that my mother will promptly exit my room if she believes I’m going to play. Perhaps I should have gone straight to the keyboard when she first came in. That way, she would’ve left me alone.
My plan unfolds precisely as expected. With a sudden motion, she abruptly turns, clutching the doorknob firmly. Exiting the room, she forcefully shuts the door behind her, causing a resounding slam that reverberates through the silent space.
Returning to the bed, I plop down and release a sigh. She truly is maddening. If only my dad were here to guide me in pursuing my passions. He would grasp the importance of music. How it has the ability to connect with your soul and evoke a profound sense of calmness. Each note played feels like an extension of oneself, a way to express who you are and share it with the world.
When I hear the front door slam shut, I stay put on the bed, with no intention of moving.
I let out a deep breath and smile when my phone pings. I know exactly who it is.
Picking up my phone from the bed, I glance at the text message.
Xander: I want to show you something.
Poppy: That”s alright. I”ve already seen it. It”s not that impressive.
I pause for a moment, contemplating whether I’m stepping into risky territory by flirting with Xander. But my heart overpowers my rational thoughts, and I ultimately decide to hit the send button.
As I see the bubbles popping up on my phone, I can’t help but feel a rush of anticipation, eagerly awaiting his response.
Xander: Really? I’m sure your pussy thinks otherwise.
My cheeks blush as I recall pleasuring myself on his lap. I snap back to reality when I hear my phone ping.
Xander: I’m knocking. Answer the fucking door this time.
With a smile on my face, I slide my phone into my pocket and head straight for the front door.
As always, seeing Xander instantly quickens my heartbeat.
Leaning against the door frame, I can’t help but notice the pack hanging over his shoulder.
“What do you want, Xander?” I ask, trying to sound casual. However, the smirk on Xander’s face tells me he sees right through my act and isn’t buying into this nonsense.
“Ace and I had an amazing session today, and I’m in a great mood. There’s something I want to show you.”
I turn away from him and head back into the house. “Xander, if this is something sexual, I’ve already told you I’m not...”
“It’s not. I promise it has nothing to do with you wanting to give me a blowjob, but feel free to go ahead and do it again if you want. You won’t hear me complaining,” he interrupts, raising his eyebrows and giving that arrogant smirk. Then his expression turns serious. “It’s something else I want to show you.”
“If you don’t tell me what it is, I’m not going with you.”
“Wow, it seems like surprises aren’t your thing, huh?” he remarks.
“I do enjoy surprises, but when it involves you, I’m not sure if it’s a genuine surprise or just a sexual favor.”
Taking a deep breath, he exhales slowly. “The other day, you opened up to me about your dad. I think it’s only fair that I share something about my mom,” he says.
Oh, so he was actually listening. It turns out he wasn’t just pretending to listen and not caring like I thought.
“Oh, alright then,” I reply, making my way towards the couch.
But before I can reach it, Xander steps forward. “No, not here,” he says. “I want to show you something. Come on.”
Curiosity piqued, I follow him outside.
“So where exactly are you taking me?”
The sun hovers above the horizon, casting a warm, golden glow. I reach for my front door key, hanging from its hook, and with a soft click, I lock the door behind me.
The crisp air fills my lungs as I eagerly bound down the front steps. Xander waits for me in the street, greeting me with that familiar grin.
Together, we stroll along the quiet street, our footsteps echoing softly. I steal a quick glance at him and notice the serious look he has on his face, a side of him I’ve never seen before. I wonder if he’s worried about opening up about his mom.
As we stroll along, we reach the 7-Eleven and continue walking for two more blocks. The faint hum of distant traffic echoes in the background. Eventually, we take a right turn and move down a thin narrow track.
“I used to come here all the time after getting something from the 7-Eleven,” he says, giving me a quick glance. “But it’s been a while since I’ve been here. Not since that day when you made the extra mac and cheese.”
I stay silent, not knowing what to say because I have no idea where we are going.
We turn right and venture down an unfamiliar path nestled between two houses.
A gentle, cool breeze brushes through the air, causing the leaves on the trees to softly rustle. We move through the fading light, making our way through the tall grass until we reach a rock formation. Effortlessly, he climbs up onto a boulder and extends his hand to help me up.
I join him, sitting down and letting my legs dangle over the edge.
In the peaceful silence, I’m captivated by the breathtaking scenery.
Majestic trees line the lush, emerald-green landscape. Birds gracefully soar through the distant sky. A tranquil serenity surrounds us, only interrupted by the enchanting melody of crickets waiting for the moon.
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Xander nervously tapping his fingers on his thigh. Every second of silence feels like an eternity.
Finally, he speaks, his words stumbling out, unsure and hesitant.
“Do you remember when you mentioned how much you miss your dad?”
“Yeah,” I nod.
“Well, I understand how you feel,” he says, looking straight ahead, not bothering to make eye contact. I watch as he swallows over the lump in his throat. “Every single day, I miss her. My mother was truly amazing. She’s the one who passed her love for music on to me. She taught me how to play, you know. We used to sit together in the kitchen, me on the countertop strumming my guitar while she baked chocolate chip cookies. We would sing, and I cherish those precious moments. But when I was seven, she passed away.”
Unsure if he would let me, I reach out and take his hand. Surprisingly, he doesn’t pull away; instead, he intertwines his fingers with mine.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “How did she pass away?”
He finally turns to look at me, and I can”t help but notice the sadness in his beautiful eyes.
“She passed from cancer,” he says softly.
Then he turns his gaze back to the vast landscape before us. He stays quiet for a bit.
“Before mom died, she asked my dad for forgiveness because she cheated on him. She said he might not be my biological father. After that, my father never looked at me the same. That’s when the beatings started.”
I hold his hand tighter, hoping to bring him some comfort.
“Sometimes, it was even worse when he didn’t beat me because once he did, I knew I would have a few hours of reprieve before it happened again. Instead of anxiously waiting for it, waiting for him to acknowledge my presence in the house…” he falls silent. “People think the worst part is the pain. And it does hurt, christ, it hurts so much sometimes. But the worst part is what he says to me when he’s beating me. He calls me a worthless piece of shit. He says I am nothing and will never amount to anything.” He glances back at me. “I know that sounds fucked up, because they’re just words, but sometimes they hurt even more than his physical punches. Over time, they seep into your soul, penetrating deep within you. And the look in his eyes every time he says those words... he truly despises me.” He takes a breath and swallows. “There was a time when he didn’t feel that way. Once, he loved me. I was the cherished child, with both my mom and dad by my side. But then, after my mother’s comment, everything changed. He hated me as if he wanted to…” Xander falls silent, his gaze fixed on our clasped hands.
My heart genuinely aches for him, recognizing his pain as my own. He had loved his mom and dad just like any child loves their parents, but in return, the man he believed was his father despises him. It’s only natural that after all these years, he would want to shield himself and keep hidden what has transpired in his life since his mother’s passing.
Taking a deep breath, he admits, “I believe deep down that my dad still loves my mom. He’s just angry with her for what she did. My dad has gray eyes, while my mom has blue. However, I have dark brown eyes. Interestingly enough, my dad’s best friend also has the exact same brown eyes.”
His voice tightens as he speaks. “I have no connection with my dad. I am only a constant reminder of what she did, always staring him in the face. As I grew older, I started to resemble my biological father more and more. Then the beatings became worse.”
“Xander,” I interrupt, catching his attention.
He turns to look at me, and I can’t help but notice the anguish in his eyes.
“You didn’t do anything wrong. You deserved to be loved. And never, ever think that you’re nothing. You’re truly something special. I can see it. And so can everyone else.”
Despite saying these words, I realize that the pain of hearing the opposite for all those years will always be a part of him. It’s ingrained in him, inseparable from his being.
As he releases my hand, a sudden thought crosses my mind - did I say something wrong?
“Every time I come here, I sneak a bottle of Jack from my dad.” Reaching into his bag, he retrieves a bottle and effortlessly twists off the cap.
‘Wanna have a good time?’ His playful expression and raised eyebrows successfully mask the vulnerable side he had shown just moments ago.
I burst into laughter. “So, our plan is just to hang out here and get wasted, huh?”
He nods and offers me the bottle. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it,” he replies. “Once the alcohol kicks in, you stop worrying about that kind of stuff.”
Xander watches as I bring the bottle to my lips and take a gulp, unaware that it may not be the wisest choice.
The strong liquor immediately triggers a coughing fit as it goes down my throat. He bursts into laughter.
“Come on, Princess, save some for me!” he playfully teases.
A warm sensation rushes through my veins, and my head feels lighter as I return the bottle to him.
Xander takes a drink from the bottle and then hands it back to me. He turns around to grab a pack of cigarettes from his bag.
Placing one between his lips, he lights it.
“Does it bother you when I use the same name your dad used to call you?”
“It did at first, but not anymore,” I say as I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. I hand him the bottle and take the lit cigarette from his mouth. “I thought you called me that because you believed I was spoilt or something.”
He nods. “I did at first.”
He watches as I bring the cigarette to my lips, draw back on it, and then start coughing, sounding like a cat trying to clear a furball from its throat.
Zander bursts into laughter. “You’ve never smoked a cigarette before, have you, Princess? But I guess everyone has to start somewhere.”
“And do you still think I’m a spoilt princess now?” I hand him the cigarette and quickly grab the bottle from his hand.
“No, not anymore.”
Taking another sip from the bottle, I feel a burning sensation in my throat, but this time I manage to suppress the urge to cough. Fueled with newfound courage from the alcohol, I turn to face him. There are a few things I’ve always wanted to ask but never had the bravery to do so.
“Can I ask you something?” I inquire, apprehensive about his response.
“Depends.”
“Don’t worry about it then.”
“Nah, go ahead and ask it.”
“But you might not answer. I want you to be completely honest with me.”
“Go ahead and just ask, Princess,” he says, taking the bottle from my hands. “You might want to take it easy on the alcohol.”
I give him the finger before proceeding with my question. “Why Jade and Savannah? Why do you sleep with them?”
“You want to know why I fuck them?”
“Yeah. Why them?”
“Because they’re easy,” he replies, shrugging his shoulders. “Because they’re readily available. I don’t need to put in any effort to get my dick wet.” He raises the bottle, and I find myself fixated on his lips as they touch the rim. As he brings the bottle back down, he steals a quick glance in my direction before handing it over for me to hold. ”Because, honestly, I don’t care about chicks. I never have.”
Upon hearing his words, I realize that being punched would actually hurt less. I get it. He doesn’t give a shit about anyone as long as his needs are looked after. To prevent further emotional distress, I quickly change the subject of our discussion.
“So, where do you see yourself in five years?” I ask, trying to redirect the conversation.
“Well, that’s easy,” he replies confidently. “I see myself playing my songs to massive stadiums, filled with thousands of people. I want to hear them sing along to the lyrics I’ve written, especially since they were born out of the most challenging period of my life. I want it all - the fame, the money, the groupies. But above everything else, I want to prove all those assholes wrong who said I was nothing. I want to show them that I’m something.”
I interrupt him, reminding him of my previous compliments. “But you are something special, Xander. Your music is a reflection of who you are, and everyone will love you and your music. Oh god did I just slur my words? Did any of that make any sense?”
He laughs. “Yeah, don’t worry I understood what you were trying to say. Now it’s my turn to ask a question.”
“Sure, go ahead. Ask away.”
“The blowjob.”
“Xander. Don’t ask about that because I told you I’m not giving you another one.”
“Good to know. Disappointed but that’s not what I’m asking.”
“What then?” I ask, taking another sip.
I know I should pace myself, but I don’t care. I’m young and haven’t experienced a drinking binge before. And there’s a hot guy sitting next to me, someone I’ve daydreamed about for years. It’s time to embrace life, right?
“You said you”ve never done it before.”
“That’s right I haven’t.”
“Well, I think you’re full of shit,” he says, flicking the stub of his cigarette forward.
“Oh, really.” I burst into laughter.
“Come on, Princess, spill it,” he says, grabbing the bottle from my hand. “No more fucking lies.”
“I’m not lying, I swear,” I say, raising my palm. “Scout’s honor.” My words blend together, slurring as they leave my lips, and I can hear the distortion in my voice.
“First of all, that’s not the signal for scouts’ honor. And I’m calling bullshit on your answer.”
“I’m serious. Please, look at me. You think anyone wants a fat chick?”
“You’re not fat, Poppy. Just ‘cause those bitches say it doesn’t mean it’s true.”
“Yeah, I am. Everyone else can see it. Why can’t you?” I ask, feeling like the insecure little girl I wish I wasn’t. Damn it, Xander is right. Maybe I should cut back on the alcohol because my head is spinning.
I lean back on the boulder and gaze up at the darkened sky. The tiny stars twinkle above me. When was the last time I truly admired the stars? It’s been years.
Xander’s voice snaps me back to reality. “Come on,” he says as he takes hold of my hand and helps me sit up. I see that he’s already put on his backpack and the bottle is nowhere in sight.
“Let’s get you home.”
As Xander helps me down off the boulder, my footing suddenly gives way. I almost lose my balance and stumble forward, but just in the nick of time, a set of strong arms quickly wraps around me, stopping me from tumbling off the ledge.
“Fuck! Are you okay? You nearly fell,” he says, his hands gripping my waist tightly, keeping me close.
Feeling his arms around me sends a shiver down my spine. I can’t help but steal a glance at him. “Thank you,” I say, unable to take my eyes off his beautiful face. I can’t help but admire his striking features. “You know, your face is like really pretty, right?” I blurt out, realizing I may be rambling but unable to hold back my words. “Actually, you’re hotter than hot.” My brows furrow because I’m not sure if that’s an actual sentence. But I can’t stop my mouth from speaking. “Damn, you”re like the hottest person I think I”ve ever seen.”
With his arm still around me, he guides me back in the direction we came from.
“And I was being dishonest earlier. Your... well, your dick is quite impressive. But honestly, I haven”t had the chance to compare it to anyone else’s. So it might not be that impressive at all.”
“Yeah and let’s keep it that way, Princess. You don’t need to be like those other girls who fuck around. You don’t need to be checking out other guy’s dicks. Unless it’s mine,” he says, flashing that arrogant smirk - the one that always manages to stir something within me. “Don’t stoop down to the level of those other easy bitches. Because that’s not you.”
“But you talk to those other bitches at school and completely ignore me,” I add, feeling my eyes grow tired. “That’s some messed up shit, Xander. The least you could do is acknowledge me with a simple ‘hi’ when we pass each other in the hallway.”
“I suppose I could give that a shot.”
With every step, fatigue seeps deeper into my body. My footsteps now falter. Doubt starts to creep in.
“I don’t think I can keep walking.” I quickly glance around and realize we’re on the street, right by the 7-Eleven. “Just leave me here on the side of the road and I’ll find my way home soon. I promise.”
“I’m not leaving you on the fucking side of the road.
“Why not? I was sitting on the curb when you finally spoke to me, so it’s not all bad. But seriously, Xander, just let me lie here for a moment. Then I’ll find my way home soon.”
Before I can even process what’s happening, my legs give out beneath me, and I find myself wrapped in Xander’s arms. My head naturally settles into the curve of his neck, finding a comfortable spot.
“You smell amazing. You always do,” I whisper, closing my eyes and savoring his intoxicating scent. Nestled securely in his embrace, I feel a sense of solace wash over me.