16. Abigail – “Music is feeling. You can try to verbalize itl It really just hits youit doesn’t.”-Gene Simmons
16
Abigail
“Music is feeling. You can try to verbalize itl It really just hits you or it doesn’t.”-Gene Simmons
“Ya, you guys are little shits. You just want your dad’s money.” My mom says as she walks past the bathroom door. I just got back from a much-needed run. I wanted to join a gym this summer, but I’m saving every penny I can, so jogging and using the limited weights we have at the house is my only form of an outlet I call a workout.
“You guys always stick up for him and take his side.” She says in the other room, almost talking to herself.
“I’m not taking sides.” I peek out of the bathroom door. “I just said I’m not surprised this is happening. You withheld sex from him after the first affair you found out about, and then it just got worse over time, and you think he’s not going to find it somewhere else? That whole withholding sex to punish the man tactic doesn’t work anymore. I don’t think it ever worked.”
“What do you know? You haven’t even been in a serious relationship.”
My heart drops. No one in the family knows about Jared. They knew I was seeing someone steadily, but my family doesn't consider it serious unless he puts a ring on it.
“Well, I don’t have to be in a serious relationship to know that withholding sex from a man as a punishment doesn’t work.”
“It does on a loyal man.”
I roll my eyes.
“Dad is human; it has nothing to do with loyalty. We are mammals, biologically speaking.”
“See right there. What about the credit I deserve? Huh? I gave birth to you two assholes, and you all treat me like shit. You wouldn’t even be here if it weren’t for me.”
“Boy, I feel so loved. How grateful you did what thousands of moms did, give birth.” I mutter under my breath. I wasn’t sure what I was getting ready for, but I needed to leave this house.
I reach for my phone and text Josh.
Hey, what are you up to? I need to get away from my parents ASAP.
I hear the front door open and cringe. My mom passes the bathroom door, and I see her charging for him.
“Get the fuck out. I told you to get out. I’m tired of your shit, Micheal.”
“I’m getting my stuff.”
“Get it and get out of here. I’m sure one of your whores is waiting on you with her legs spread open, you fucking son of a bitch.”
I close my eyes and try to tune them out, but I can’t. I’m taken back to the day I decided to starve myself—the day I chose to be invisible. Who would have known that weeks of being back home would kill my years of progress? I squeeze my eyes, feeling the tension grow between them like a dark cloud hovering over the house.
“I want a divorce, you ungrateful bitch.” I hear my dad say.
The truth is both my parents are to blame. My dad should have talked to my mom instead of going out chasing women to solve his problems, and my mom should have forgiven my dad if she was going to stay married to him or find a way to work through their issues. She never cared as long as she got to spend what she wanted. Now that he’s limiting the money supply, she is a different person. I have never seen this side of her.
“Go ahead and try. Your whores aren’t getting my fair share, that’s for sure. They haven’t put up with your ass for twenty years, so those bitches can walk over my dead body before that happens.”
My phone buzzes.
What’s wrong? Are they fighting again?
Ya. I would get my own place, but the money I saved would be gone in no time, and there’s no way I can work and attend medical school. I was going to use that money to live off of.
Have you tried talking to your dad to help you?
I don’t want to stress him out. He’s got a lot on his plate, and who knows, he may be paying all his money to lawyers soon.
Damn, Asher. I’m sorry. Well, let me text my brother. You could probably head to the lakehouse and hide out until things calm down, at least.
You make me sound like a charity case. That’s fine. I’ll figure something out.
No, it’s okay. He doesn’t care. He and his son stay in a separate part of the house, even if he’s renting it out to others. And he has so much money now that, during the summers, he takes him to cool places like Disney World. Not Branson.
Josh always lifts my spirits, reminding me of Blake. I laugh to myself, taken away from reality for a split second, and Blake’s face comes into view. He used to make me feel light. We discussed the future, always giving each other hope.
God, I missed him.
I wonder if he would be in L.A. now, making music and rocking out his guitar like he loved doing—before the drugs.
My phone rings, and my stomach flutters, lighting up inside as I answer.
“Hello”
“Hey, bitoch, how’s the southern life? Have you caught any fish or rounded up any horses yet?”
I laugh, shaking my head slightly. Mel, short for Melanie, was named after Donald Trump's wife. Her parents are huge fans. But she was born and raised in California, and any state in the Midwest or South was considered a different country to her.
“Shut up.” A faint smile curls on my lips.
“How have you been? Obviously, busy bumping and grinding since I haven’t heard from you since you left.”
“Ya, sorry, I have just been trying to find a job, and-” let out a long I sigh.
“Oh gosh, what is it? You’re miserable, aren’t you? I knew you needed to come back here. Should I start looking at flight times? Because you know my ass will fly you down there tomorrow.”
“No, it’s just my parents,” as if on cue, my mom starts cursing in the background, and they start fighting about money again.
“Holy shit, is that them?”
“Yeah, I just need to find a job, a place to live, and, you know, a whole new life.”
“Girl, you need to come back to Cali.”
“Mel, you know I can't. It's too expensive there, and now that I broke up with Jared, there is no way I could live alone.”
“Girl, I told you my dad would get you a job, and you could stay with me. It’s not like we don’t have room here.”
She wasn’t lying. Her dad was a film producer, and Mel was an only child. They lived in what I would deem a mansion. But I just hated the idea of living with people I don’t know. Maybe if it was just Mel, but living with her parents, who only bathed in bottled sparkling water, I didn’t know if I could get used to being around that.
“I know, and believe me, it sounds tempting, but my scholarship is up too, so if I want to attend med school in the fall, I would have to apply for an even bigger loan.”
“Ugh, you sound so sad.”
“This is my life, Mel, and I’m not sad. I’m just….venting..”
“I know what will cheer you up,” Mel says.
“What?”
“Guess who looked all sad walking into Skybar the other night?”
“Who?”
“Jared.” She says it with affliction, and I would be lying if I said it didn’t sting.
I scoffed. “Uh, why in the hell would that make me feel better?”
“Girl, you know I ignored his ass when he started questioning me and asking where you went, what’s your address, and all that shit. Oh, and then, seven days ago, I saw him on the set of an audition for a model or fill-in, some pathetic role for one of my dad’s films he’s producing. Gosh, he’s so lame. I’m so glad you broke it off with him.”
“Ya, he texted me some shitty stuff last night.” I played it off, but his words stuck in the pit of my stomach like mold, eating away at my esteem.
“Oh, I’m sure it was because he was piss-ass drunk, and he’s still mad that you beat him to the punch. Maybe this will humble his ass. I mean, Jared is good-looking, but that cocky-ass attitude is such a turn-off, even for a good-looking guy in LA. He is a dime a dozen. At least stand out somehow.”
A light chuckle leaves me. “Ya, I know.”
“And stop it.” She snaps.
“Stop what?” I scrunch my face in confusion, glad she can’t see my expression.
“Stop telling yourself he’s the best you ever had, or you won’t find better looking. Because I know that’s what you think, and that’s a bunch of horse shit. You know you’re a fucking badass. You hold the power of your confidence and no one else.”
Mel was right. Me being here, on top of the breakup and then the message I received from Jared the other night confirming he cheated. Had my emotions all over the place. Even though I left him, it still hurt. Just made all those nasty texts he sent seem even more accurate. And our whole relationship was a waste of time. Regret is all I feel right now,
“You’re right. Like I said, I think once I get a job and stay busy, it will help occupy my time.”
Because crying daily is not a hobby, I look in the mirror and see my puffy eyes. I was getting better, though. Today was the first day I hadn’t cried since thinking about my life or Jared.
“Oh shit, I have to go. My mom wants us to bond more, so she got us pedicures, on top of getting our hair done, then a massage to end it with.”
“Nice. Living that boogie lifestyle.”
“Ya, I can’t complain.” She says.
“Have fun,” I say with a chuckle
“Love you, call me later, babe.”
“Love you too.” and we both hang up.
A couple of hours later, I caved into Josh’s offer. I didn’t see Josh’s car at the lakehouse. There was a car here, but I had no idea who it belonged to. And it was parked by the side of the road, so it could be anyone’s since the houses are next to each other. I take in the tall trees and greenery. California was beautiful but in a beach way, with lots of hills. Missouri wasn’t flat by any means, but the trees gave it a whole other feel, along with the mystical forests, foggy mornings, and beautiful sunsets. It felt more natural. The air smelled fresh and clean, as if pollution didn’t exist with the millions of people like California.
The scent invites me in, as the musty-rich aroma hits my nose. I punch in the code to the garage, and it opens. I see a car parked inside, but Josh told me to go through the house to get to the part of the rental lake house that is not attached, and the only way to do that was through the garage since I didn’t have a key.
Walking through the two-story house, I don’t see or hear anyone. Relief runs through me, and my shoulders slump over as I relax. I get to the back door and see the part of the house that was added that Josh said was safe to stay in, at least for tonight. Maybe I can apply for more jobs while I'm here.
As soon as I get to the door, I curse under my breath because it looks like I would need a key to get in, but when I reach to open the door knob, it turns.
“Thank God,” I say to myself. I step inside, and my body freezes as soon as I do. I'm met with a pair of blue eyes. At first, I think I’m just hallucinating, since I haven’t eaten all day. My mom bitched at me when I tried to make a sandwich after my dad left, taking her anger out on me since she wasn’t done bitching him out before he decided to leave. So I threw the bread down on the plate along with the lettuce when she said, “God, can’t I eat in peace,” like I was bothering her by just being there. So I left without saying a word. Of course, she didn’t call me to apologize or say sorry and tell me to return. She never does. She just let me leave like I was nothing.
Colt continues to thrust into the skinny blonde with fake boobs, and it registers that the woman he’s fucking is not my cousin. She starts to moan and grab her tits, completely unaware I’m in the room with them.
“Colt, yes, don’t stop. Right there.”
A devilish smirk spreads across his face as he asks, “Do you like that?” His eyes pinned on me, and I have a funny feeling he was not asking the blonde that question.
“Yes, I’m cuming, oh God, Colt!”
A minute ago, the girl who wasn’t vocal screams loud enough for the whole neighborhood to hear. She wanted everyone to know she was cuming and that she was. Colt still had his shirt on, and I could tell his boxers were down just enough for his dick to be inside her. She, on the other hand, had nothing on but her knee-high socks.
Colt thrusts a few times and barely makes a noise when he finishes his release inside her. Pulling out, he quickly tosses the condom in the trash. The blonde moves her head side to side, looking frazzled as she lifts herself up on her elbows on what looks like a Murphy bed.
“God, I came so good.” She coos.
Before she turns around, Colt has his boxers up. His cheeks aren’t flushed at all. He looks like he just finished using the restroom. When she turns around, I see her flushed cheeks and a pissed-off face.
“What the hell,” she says, looking at Colt. “Who the fuck is this?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know anyone was here.”
The girl takes one of the sheets and covers herself with it, “what are you doing here? Because I know you aren’t here for Colt.”
She looked me up and down, sizing me up, and compared to her, ya, I was definitely not Colt’s type. She had straight blonde hair and angular features with high cheekbones. She had those types of features, no matter what angle she took a picture, she would look perfect. She had delicate, all-American features with a wide mouth and smile. She looked a lot like my cousin, who supposedly he was dating.
“Ya, I was supposed to meet-”
“Josh,” Colt finishes the sentence for me, and I glare at him. “Josh doesn’t own this house, so his invitation isn’t valid without my knowledge or approval.”
“Ya,” the blonde says like a fucking side cheerleader.
Tears start to prick in my eyes, but I fight them back.
“Sorry to bother you.” I’m about to shut the door but reopen it and say, “Ya know, I see why your brother hated you. You really are a selfish dick. And no matter how many women you fuck, you’ll still be a soulless, narcissistic bastard.” I slam the door shut and start running back to my car.