Sierra
Chapter seven
Ileft the school as soon as the damn bell rang.
I could hear Wes’s laughter echoing through the hallway as the door to the library shut behind me.
Not bothering to stop by my new locker, choosing to stuff as many of the books as I could into my backpack, I gripped the others tightly within my arms as I walked home.
Just a little longer and I can break down in the comfort of my own home. I know Mrs. Butler said to go home and take a nap, but I really want to hear how Sam’s first day was. I know it was far better than mine.
I’m not even a block from the school when I hear a car speeding up beside me, then something wet and cold splashing all over me.
Laughter fills the air as both feminine and male voices yell out whore and slut.
I quickly look up and shake my head. A green Camaro with yellow racing stripes goes flying past me.
Wes is the only one at school with a car like that.
I can’t let Sam see me like this, so I make my decision. Home first and shower, then up to Mrs. Butler’s to hear all about the amazing first day of school that Sam had.
Fifteen minutes later and I’m at my building.
Opening the front lobby door, I stop at the wall that carries the rows of mailboxes for all the apartments and open mine, pulling out the stack of envelopes inside.
Slowly, I trudge up the stairs to our floor.
Suddenly a nap sounds amazing, but only after showering to wash off the stickiness of the soda thrown at me.
As soon as I step through the door to the apartment and drop my backpack and books on the table, the tears finally break free.
My body crumples to the floor, not able to breathe as the tears stream down my cheeks.
I let myself cry for the loss of my mother, my friend, and for the hell my life has become.
For just a moment, though, because high school will not define me.
I’m down one day, a hundred and seventy-nine to go.
I can do this. This is all for Sam. Picking myself up, I head down the hallway to the bathroom to shower and change, looking forward to the nap after.
Today has been exhausting. I halt in my steps when I hear the pinging of my cell phone, alerting me to a message.
I rarely use it except for emergencies and only use texts for occasional messages to Rico.
He knows I try to save those in case of emergencies, and my plan doesn’t replenish for another week.
I open my backpack, pulling my phone out, ready to curse Rico.
He knows I can’t work until this weekend.
The fucker knows how easily I cave when he asks me to work, always needing the money, which makes me more prone to never turn him down.
What I see when I glance down isn’t a text from Rico, but from an unknown number.
Unknown: You think today was bad, slut? Wait until tomorrow. Do us all a favor and quit. We don’t want your diseased ass here.
I know it’s someone from school, but how? Why am I even asking when they were able to get into my locker? Why though? Don’t they torture me enough at school, and now they are sending messages too?
As badly as I want to reply, I can’t. There’s only a limited number of messages left until next week, and I need to save them. Even if I did reply, it won’t stop their abuse. Shaking it off, I head to the bathroom.
I take off my clothes, dropping them to the floor, no energy left in me to pick them up at the moment, and turn on the shower full blast. Listening to the spray of the water, my mind wanders and before long, steam is billowing out.
I step inside, letting the warmth of the water run over my body.
The heat relaxes me, especially as it hits the aching muscles in my back, working its magic, washing away the horrors of the day.
Picking up the bottle of shampoo, I squeeze a generous amount in my hand.
More than I typically would use, needing to make it last as long as I could, but today is different.
Reaching up, I lather my hair, allowing my nails to scrape along my scalp, wanting to wash away every bit of trash that may have made its way into it.
Then rinse and do the same with the conditioner.
Once I’m convinced I’m clean and the water is now cold, I reach out and turn the water off.
Using my hands, I ring the excess water from my hair before reaching out and grabbing the towel that’s hanging on a hook, rubbing it briskly against my wet locks to get rid of any remaining water before wrapping it around my head.
Hating to use another towel but knowing I need to, I step out of the shower onto the rug so that I can reach the rack I set up in the bathroom to hold the towels and grab one, wrapping it around my torso.
A shrill scream from a familiar female voice has me cringing. “Sierra, get out here now,” my aunt calls out.
Fuck, what is she doing here? Is there any money lying around anywhere?
I have to stop and think, but it’s short-lived as she impatiently hollers again, “Now, I ain’t got time to waste.”
“I’m coming,” I call back loud enough so she can hear.
Making sure the towel is securely in place and covering as much as I can, I open the door and step out into the hallway, heading into the living room, before abruptly stopping dead in my tracks.
Seated on the couch is some unknown man, and he is staring at me.
Scanning me from head to toe, taking in every bit of exposed flesh.
“Girl, don’t ya know better than to walk around practically naked with people in the house? Guess you’re used to that, being a stripper and all. Being naked is what you like best, ain’t it?” she bites out harshly.
“I-I-I didn’t know you had anyone with you.
I wasn’t expecting anyone, so I didn’t have any clothes in the bathroom to change into when I was done.
” Had I known she had someone here, I would’ve headed to the bedroom and changed first or even, and I cringe at the thought, put the clothes I was wearing back on.
“I need some money,” she demands, holding her hand out with her palm up. “I don’t have any, Aunt Sarah.” And I don’t, not for her anyway. Every penny I make is for me and Sam.
She glares at me with pure malice in her eyes.
“Don’t fucking lie to me, Sierra. I know you do.
You just have it hidden around here somewhere.
Howie, wait for me down in the car, it’ll be a minute and I’ll be down.
” She turns and heads back to the kitchen.
Little does she know I changed the hiding place.
Howie stands, still leering at me. Instead of heading for the door, he walks across the room toward me.
I take a step back, but he’s on me in a flash.
He reaches out, his hand landing on my shoulder, and he trails his fingers down the length of my arm.
I cringe at his touch. “Aren’t you a pretty thing?
Your aunt told me you stripped. How about a little dance for me?
I can give you something way better than money.
Whores like you like two things: dicks and drugs.
I can give you both.” He leans closer, but Sarah takes that moment to step back into the room.
“Howie, I said I’d meet you downstairs. I need a minute with my niece.” Hatred laces her words.
“Sure thing, babe. Don’t take too long.” He gives me a wink that makes my skin crawl as he turns and heads toward the door, stopping long enough to kiss my aunt with a grope. I fight the urge to gag at the sight.
As soon as the door shuts, she’s on me. She grabs my arm, gripping it tightly as she twists it, backing me up against the wall. “Think you’re clever, do you, flirting with my man? You’re a slut, just like your mother. That’s why your dad never stuck around.”
“DON’T TALK ABOUT MY MOTHER!!” The words have barely left my mouth when I feel the full impact of her free hand smacking the side of my face. The hit is so hard, it causes my head to slam against the wall.
“I do whatever I want. Now, where is the money?”
“I don’t have any!” I scream again, desperation overtaking me.
“Is that so, hmmm? Then I guess Sam should come with me and Howie.” No! No! No! I can’t let that happen. I know she would do it just for spite.
“Fine, I’ll give you all I have, but it’s not a lot.” Hoping like hell, she doesn’t want to follow me when I go retrieve it from my room.
“That’s better, now go get it. I have places to be.”
I rush to the bedroom, holding tightly onto the towel wrapped around me; it had come loose during our scuffle.
Shutting the door behind me, I tip-toe over to the dresser and quietly open the drawer that I hid the money in.
Letting go of the money I worked so hard for isn’t something I want to do, but I need Sam with me more.
I’ll just have to pick up an extra shift somewhere to make it up.
Counting the wad of money, I pull fifteen hundred out of it and shut the drawer back, then quickly rush out of the room and down the hallway before she decides to see where my new hiding place is.
“Here! It’s all I have!” I push the wad of cash into her waiting hand.
“See how easy that was?” She turns and leaves, slamming the door behind her as I collapse to the floor for the second time today.
Zander
“How was your first day as counselor, Dad?” I ask as we sit at the dinner table. Since the time I came to live with him, it’s always been a big deal for us to eat dinner together and talk about our day.
“It was good. I met with a few of my students today. Which reminds me, Colton, you need to knock on the door if it’s closed. I don’t want any repeats of what happened today.”
“Yes, sir,” he responds around a mouthful of pasta.
“How about you boys? Enjoy your classes?” John asks, he was off from the hospital today, where he works as an ER Nurse.
“I got a project in literature. We’re doing it in groups, and I got paired up with a girl that apparently no one seems to like at school.” I wish I knew why. Something about the little bit of information that Wes shared with us just doesn’t make sense.
“Remember what I taught you about not judging someone before you know them?” He cuts his eyes at me, making sure I’m listening.
“I know, Dad, and I won’t.” I hate lying to him, because in a way I have. Taking Wes at his word, I didn’t step in at any time today when I saw her being mistreated. I kinda feel like a dick.
“You boys have any plans tonight? Homework?” John looks between the three of us.
“Are you giving us a later curfew, because if you are…” Colt doesn’t even get to finish before both our dad and John burst out in laughter.
“Nice try, that would be a no,” John smiles, “but you three have clean up duty from dinner.”
“Guess it’s dishes and homework, then. And the new episode of House of Dragons or the new Jurassic Park movie,” Braxton announces as he stands, pushing back his chair as he picks up his empty plate and heads for the kitchen.
“Dad, can I ask a hypothetical question?” I can see Brax whip his head toward me from where he’s sitting out of the corner of my eye.
“Sure, son.” He looks intently at me like he’s trying to piece together what I may be getting ready to ask.
“If you see someone having something bad done to them and don’t step in, does it make you just as responsible for what's happening?”
His eyes focus on me. “Is there something you want to tell me?”
“NO! Just purely a what if question,” I deny quickly as I feel Brax kick my leg underneath the table.
“The answer is yes, you are just as bad as the people who are doing it. You saw something wrong happening to someone and did nothing. Hypothetically, that is,” he adds on at the end.
“That’s what I thought. If you and John are done, I can take your plates.” Standing slowly, I push my chair back under the table, collect my plate and head around the table to get Dad and John's as they pick them up and place them on top of the one in my hands.
I didn’t even know Brax had stood and followed me into the kitchen until the interrogation began. “Dude, what the hell are you doing?” he whisper-shouts.
“I didn’t say it was us. I was just curious,” I softly say, not wanting Dad to overhear.
“Why even bring it up, man?” Brax asks, as Colt turns and looks at us with total confusion, not being privy to the conversation in the other room.
“What the hell is going on? And why are we whispering?” he asks, going with the flow of our hushed conversation.
“He thought,” Brax starts, shooting his thumb my way, “let me ask Dad if it’s okay not to step in when someone is being picked on.”
“Are y’all talking about that Sierra chick? Dude, Wes said she was bad news.”
“I don’t know. She didn’t seem like this temptress he made her out to be. She was so quiet, almost timid. Brax, you met her at the shoe store. Did she seem like he’s describing?” I whip around to look at him.
“No, but it was only for a few minutes. Who's to say what she’s like? I just don’t know,” he says, but I know he doesn’t mean it. He really liked her, and she was all he could talk about until he told Wes.
“Come on and let’s get this finished. I want to watch the new episode of House of Dragons that came on last night before I do math homework,” Colton says, changing the subject as he goes back to washing dishes.
Scraping the food off the plates in my hands, I hand them to him and get busy putting the leftover food away in containers. Braxton handles drying the dishes and putting them away.
We finish and head up to our rooms; the twins going to theirs and me to mine.
I flop down on my bed, crossing my legs and letting my head fall back against the headboard.
Why can’t I get this girl out of my head?
It would be so easy just to believe what Wes says about her and go along with all the other people at school, but I can’t.
I’m pissed at myself for not stepping in today and helping her.
What the hell am I going to do? The only thing I can think of is to use this project with her as a chance to get to know her. To see if what everyone says is the truth, or if they’re all fucking assholes for attacking her. What makes it worse is I consider these people friends.
Fuck!!
I hear a light knock on the door before it opens and Brax steps inside my room.
“Zan, for what it’s worth, I really liked her when I met her.
Hell, the way her sister talked about her, you’d think she walked on air.
I even told her I wished my brothers talked about me that way.
But we’re new here. Do you really want to rock the boat?
” He looks at me seriously before turning around and leaving the room, shutting the door behind him.
Maybe boats were meant to be rocked?