Chapter 21 #2
I wrapped my arms around my body and moved my hair in front of my face more as I tried to make myself smaller. I poured myself another shot, too. It was just as bad as the other one, but I wanted it to help ease my nerves.
Missy didn’t come back. I stayed in the kitchen, near the alcohol, as people kept making small remarks toward me. I wanted to go home. I wanted to cry. I wanted Ash.
I would’ve had more fun with him that night. I always had fun with him.
“Karla?” a voice said. I looked up to see Brian standing in front of me. He seemed baffled to see me there.
My heart started racing faster when I saw him. A friend. Good. Sure, he was a secret friend, but still a friend, nonetheless. I didn’t have room to be picky about my friendships. Anyone who showed me the slightest amount of attention was good enough to me.
I waved at him. “Hey, Brian. I’m so happy you’re—”
“What are you doing here?” he whisper-shouted as he came closer. “Geez, Missy said you were coming, but I didn’t think . . .” He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. “You should get out of here, Karla.”
“What?”
“I overheard a few people talking. Colton invited you as a joke. I figured you wouldn’t actually show up, but he’s planning—”
“All right, everyone! Gather ’round,” Colton said, interrupting Brian’s conversation with me. The moment others came into the kitchen space, Brian took a few giant steps away from me, as if he was embarrassed to be seen so close.
Ouch.
“It’s time for the entertainment of the night. I give to you, the Hunchback of Notre Dame!” Colton gestured toward me. Everyone came into the room, hooting and hollering as they laughed and pointed at me. Missy stood next to Colton with a heartbroken expression on her face.
“Colton, what are you doing?” Missy whispered. She looked pale.
She had no clue what was about to happen.
“I can’t believe the freak actually showed up,” someone said. I wasn’t sure who said it, but there were a lot of people. It could’ve been anyone. But they were talking about me—I was the freak. And I was on public display.
“I mean, look at those scars!” Colton said, walking over to me. He combed my hair out of my face, and I instantly swatted his hands away from me.
“Don’t touch me!” I warned, wanting nothing more than to leave.
All the exits were blocked with people staring at me, though. My heart started pounding faster and faster in my chest as the realization settled in.
“Colton, stop—” Missy started, but he cut her off.
“Shut the fuck up, Missy,” he replied with venom in his words.
“I want to introduce people to your best friend.” He patted his hands against my shoulder.
I tried to shrug him off. He held on tighter.
I was trapped in a cage with cruel people surrounding me.
Cruel people who used to be my friends. Cruel people who, for some reason, hated me simply for the way I looked.
“Easy, Quasimodo,” Colton cooed as he massaged my shoulders. “We’re just having a good laugh at your expense.” He took his hand and rolled it across my arched back. “I mean, tell me this isn’t Hunchback, you guys, and I’ll tell you you’re a liar.”
I shoved him away from me, feeling violated as his hands roamed my body. He flew backward and hit his back against the countertop. I saw his face tense up as a look of darkness overtook his stare.
“You bitch,” he hissed as he shoved me, knocking me down to the floor.
He then picked up the trash bin next to him and proceeded to dump it over my head.
I screamed in horror as it happened. People stood around watching what this guy did to me, but no one helped.
Not one person stepped up to my defense.
No one. Not a soul. If anything, people laughed.
People joined in. They started throwing their drinks at me, too, drenching me from head to toe.
The alcohol that hit me burned my eyes, blurring my vision as I looked around for an exit.
All eyes were on me as I stood there covered in trash.
Covered in raw meat cuttings, gross liquids.
Disgusting, half-eaten food. It smelled like someone had vomited in that trash can, too.
My body . . .
My heart . . .
My mind . . .
Ouch.
I was seconds away from sobbing as I looked around the room that was filled with people who I once called my friends.
I felt empty inside.
I felt helpless.
I felt alone.
I didn’t know a person could feel so deeply alone in such a crowded room.
Brian would help me.
I knew he would.
He never bullied me. Not once. Not ever.
When I looked up and found Brian’s eyes locked on mine, I saw a flash of guilt in his eyes.
He was going to help me; I just knew it.
He was my friend. Maybe only in the shadows, but if there was ever a time to come out into the light to support me, it was right then and there. I didn’t just want him to help me.
I needed him.
I needed a friend.
Brian was seven steps away from where I stood. He took a step toward me. There were only a few more steps before he’d be able to reach out his hand and help me up.
Please, Brian.
Take the next six steps.
Right as he was about to do so, Rosie walked over to him and took his hand into hers. They were holding hands. Were they dating? Since when did Rosie date Brian? How did they get together? Why were they together? And why was it breaking my heart?
“What a loser,” Rosie commented, gesturing toward me. “Get rid of it, you guys.”
Get rid of it?
Was she talking about me?
A wave of panic hit my body as those words flipped repeatedly in my mind. I was no longer a person. I was an it. A thing. A creature. A monster.
Get rid of it. Get rid of it. Get rid of it. Get rid of it.
Brian looked down at me and shook his head in disbelief. But he didn’t take any steps toward me. He didn’t take those six steps. He didn’t comfort me. Instead, he took a step backward and said, “Yeah, what a loser.”
My heart shattered.
I couldn’t take it anymore as everyone, including Brian, laughed and pointed at me. Some people began throwing soda cans my way, too, some empty, some full.
Ouch.
I looked over to Missy. There were tears in her eyes, and regret.
But she didn’t stand up for me. She didn’t try to help me up.
She just stayed in the distance, silently feeling bad, but not bad enough to help me.
At one point, she was my best friend. My person.
My forever. And she left me there alone.
I pulled myself to a standing position, my body aching, and I started toward the back door.
I wished I could run. I wished my body didn’t go against what my mind wished it could do.
If I could run, I would’ve sprinted out of that house, out of the city, out of the state, never looking back.
But instead, I dragged myself away like the disgusting it that I’d become.
Once I made it outside, I rushed to the curbside and collapsed.
My hands were shaky as my mind tried to figure out what to do.
I couldn’t call my dad. I’d sneaked out.
He’d be so pissed. I couldn’t call Ash. I’d belittled him.
I couldn’t call Mom. Oh, how I wished I could call Mom.
She’d know what to say, what to do, how to make everything better.
But she was dead. She was never coming back.
All I wanted was to go to her. To be there with her and leave all the heaviness of the world behind.
I wanted to disappear and be in my mother’s arms again.
But I couldn’t.
So I called the only person I could think of who would maybe help me out of the literal mess that I’d gotten myself into.
I called Ellie.
* * *
She didn’t show up alone. When the car pulled up, I was sitting on the edge of the sidewalk, curled in a ball. I wanted to vomit. I wanted to cry. I wanted to die. Oh, God, how I wanted all of this to be over.
Dad was the first to get out of the car, and Ellie rushed over beside him. Lorelai was sitting in the back of the car with a look of worry as she looked my way. I collapsed into Ellie’s arms as Dad marched straight to the front porch of the house party.
I felt disgusting. Used. Abused.
I could hear Dad cussing Colton out, and I could tell it was taking everything in his power to not hit a teenage kid. Colton was smug about Dad’s anger, which only made me feel more upset. He didn’t care that he hurt me. He didn’t care about my struggles. No one in that house did. Not even Brian.
Before I could wrap my head around what was going on, I saw Lorelai get out of the back of the car, and while Ellie tried to stop her, my sister seemed determined.
She marched up to the porch where Dad was in a heated discussion with Colton, and my five-year-old sister proceeded to kick Colton straight in his balls.
I gasped.
Ellie did, too.
Colton fell over, holding his hands against his privates. “Oh my God!” he cried, whimpering in pain. “What the hell?!”
“Dude! Colton just got his ass kicked by a kid!” a guy hollered, and everyone started laughing their heads off.
Dad bent over Colton and said, “Like I said. Leave my daughter alone. Or my other daughter will do that again. Only harder.” He turned to Lorelai and me. “Come on, girls. Let’s go.”
We headed back to the car and all climbed inside. Before putting the car in drive, Dad pulled out his cell phone.
“What are you doing?” I nervously asked.
“I’m calling the police station,” he said matter-of-factly.
When the call was picked up, Dad cleared his throat.
“Hello? Hi. I’m calling to report a noise complaint at 1143 West Shore Street.
There seems to be a party taking place, and I’m pretty sure there is underage drinking going on. Thank you.”
I smiled a little. “Thanks, Dad,” she whispered.
“Always, Karla,” he replied. He turned around to me, put a hand on my knee. “Always.”
“Why does it smell like farts in here?!” Lorelai asked.