Chapter 11 #2
I feel nothing right now. Nothing but emptiness. Why do I keep doing this? Why do I even try to go on? What’s the point?
Why would my mother tell him that? She had to know telling him would only make it worse. She knows him. She knows he doesn’t like being told he’s doing something wrong. Praise and compliments are all he’ll accept. Say anything else, any kind of criticism, and he’ll punish you.
After the shower, I get in bed, not having the energy to do my paper.
I’ll have to get up early to finish it, or maybe I’ll just turn it in halfway done and take whatever grade I can get.
I’m not going to be valedictorian, so what’s the point?
My dad will find out I’m second in my class and beat me until I’m close to death.
If I’m lucky, I’ll die and finally be set free from this hell.
My phone rings from my nightstand. I ignore it and turn away, covering my head with a pillow. A few minutes later, it rings again. It’s probably Parker, drunk and high, calling to tell me some stupid story. He’ll keep calling until I pick up, just to piss me off.
I reach over and grab the phone. “What do you want?”
“Briggs?”
It’s Ella. What the hell?
“Yeah, sorry, I thought you were Parker.” I sit up, leaning against the pillow. “If this about the assignment, I’m not—”
“It’s not about the assignment.”
“Then what’s it about?”
“Principal Perkins talked to me today.”
“About what?”
“About what you told him. About someone trying to change my grades. He said they’re improving their online security.”
“Good,” I say, not sure why she’s telling me this. “Was that it? I have a lot to do tonight.”
“Oh. I was kind of hoping we could meet.”
I check the clock. “It’s after eight.”
“Why does that matter?”
“It doesn’t. Forget it. So what do you want to meet about?”
“I don’t really have an agenda. I just . . . I need to see you.”
“Why? What’s going on?”
“Nothing. I just . . .”
“You what?”
“I miss you,” she says really fast, like she had to get the words out before she changed her mind.
I smile. “You miss me? Is this a joke?”
“Unfortunately, no.”
“Why is that unfortunate?”
“Because I don’t want to miss you. I’m trying not to, but the more I try, the more I miss you.”
“We just saw each other at school.”
“It’s not the same.” She pauses. “Never mind. I shouldn’t have called. I’ll let you get back to what you were doing. Bye, Briggs.”
“Ella, wait!”
“Yeah?”
I hesitate, knowing I shouldn’t say it, but unable to stop myself. “I miss you too.”
“Is this a joke?”
I smile. “Unfortunately, no.”
“Why is that unfortunate?”
“It just is.”
“I know what you mean.”
I get out of bed. “Where do you want to meet?”
“We don’t have to. It’s late, and it sounds like you’re busy doing stuff.”
“I’m not. I mean, I should be, but I’m not.” I grab a t-shirt from my drawer. “Pick a place to meet and I’ll be there.”
“The park. The one a few blocks from the school.”
“You want to meet at a park?”
“I want to lie in the back of my truck and look up at the stars,” she says, her voice lifting like she’s excited about this. “Would you do it? I’ll put a blanket down so you don’t get dirty.”
“I’m not worried about that, and yes, I’ll do it. Are you leaving right now?”
“In a few minutes. I’ll see you there.”
I yank on my jeans and put on the t-shirt, and go check myself in the bathroom mirror.
My face looks okay. It was red after my father slapped me, but it’s back to normal now.
It just stings when I touch it. As for my body, I don’t see any bruises, at least not with clothes on.
And if the clothes come off, it’ll be dark. She won’t be able to see.
Lifting up my shirt, I turn around, checking the bruise on my back where it hit the door handle. It’s red, and the swelling’s getting worse. There’s a smaller bruise up by my shoulder.
Facing the mirror again, I see the bruise on my stomach where he punched me.
It’s bad, but not as bad as I thought it’d look.
Most of the damage is below the skin. It hurts every time I breathe or when I’m getting up and down from the bed.
Rugby practice and gym workouts are gonna be a bitch until this heals.
How the hell am I going to explain this if one of the guys sees me in the locker room?
I’ll have to say I got hit during a game and hope they believe me.
I spray on some cologne, then grab my keys and sneak down the back staircase that leads to the kitchen.
I slowly and quietly make my way through the kitchen to the garage.
I get in my car and start the engine as I hit the garage door button.
It takes forever for the damn door to open, and I’m almost certain my dad’s going to run out here and try to stop me.
The door finally rises, and I drive out of the garage and take off.
When I’m on the road, I let out the breath I was holding, not even caring how much it hurts my stomach.
I got away from my father, and I’m going to see Ella.
Those two things are enough to put a fucking smile on my face.
I don’t have much to smile about, so I take what I can get.
There’s a good chance my father will beat me when I get home for not telling him I was going out, but I don’t care.
He’ll be so drunk by the time I get back, he won’t have the strength to hit me very hard. If I’m lucky, he’ll be passed out.
At the park, I see Ella’s truck at the very end of the lot. I drive over there, park, and see her standing in front of her truck, looking up at the sky.
I jump out of the car and run up behind her, grabbing her around the waist. “See anything good?”
She whips around to face me, a big smile on her face. “I do now.”
I smile back. “I meant the stars.”
She hugs me, pressing her face against my chest. “I’m sorry, Briggs.”
“For what?”
“For not believing you.”
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t have the best track record with telling the truth.”
“But this time you did.” She looks up at me. “And I should’ve believed you after Charlotte told me about you going to the principal.”
“Charlotte told you?”
“She overheard you guys talking. She said you wouldn’t go to the principal if you were the one who called Calvin. You said the same thing, but I didn’t want to believe you.”
“Ella, just forget it. We don’t need to talk about it.”
“I do. I need to explain.” She takes a breath. “You kept saying you had to be valedictorian, and that you’d do anything to make it happen. I just assumed this was you following through on your plan. I didn’t even give you the benefit of the doubt.”
“Ella, it’s okay. I would’ve thought the same thing if I were you. I was just hoping that maybe by now you’d know I’d changed and wouldn’t do that to you.”
“I wasn’t sure, but I should’ve at least given you a chance.”
I step back and take her hand. “Want to go look at some stars?”
We walk around to the back of her truck.
“I put some sleeping bags down,” she says, “but it’s still kind of a mess. You might get some dirt on you, and probably some grass.”
“I don’t care. I got grass on me last night helping you sweep the sidewalk.”
She hops up in the truck bed with no effort at all while I grab hold of the side, trying not to cringe from the pain as I pull myself up.
“My dad was really impressed with your sweeping skills,” Ella says as she lies down on the sleeping bag.
“Any chance he’d give me a job?” I ask, lying beside her.
She laughs. “I can’t imagine you doing that for a job. Besides, you already have one, working for your dad.”
“Yeah,” I mutter, wishing I could tell her the truth. I’m so sick of hiding everything, not being able to talk about this with someone.
What would Ella say if I told her? Would she think less of me for not standing up to my father?
I want to stand up to him, but I can’t make myself do it.
I’m afraid of what he’d do if I ever did.
But I’ve fantasized about it. I’ve imagined myself punching him in the face so hard he slams into the wall.
If I actually did that, he’d come back at me twice as hard, and he wouldn’t stop until I was unconscious, or dead.
Then he’d blame me, saying I attacked him and that it was self-defense.
“Briggs?” Ella says. “Are you okay? You got really quiet.”
I want to tell her, but I can’t. So I won’t.