Fourteen Page 13

“And if you’re really going to date him, I want you on birth control.”

  He fidgeted, looking around the room like it was the first time he’d ever set foot in his own home, and I felt just as uncomfortable about where this conversation was going as he seemed to.

  “I’m already on it, Dad.”

  “What?”

  “One of the things Mom did before she got sick was take me to get them. And I know all about the birds and the bees, so please, spare me that lecture.” I picked at my nails. “Was there anything else?”

  “Have you been . . .”—he cleared his throat again—“have you been with him?”

  “Oh, God.” I moaned and slapped my forehead.

  “Have you?”

  “No, I haven’t been with anyone.”

  He was quiet for a few moments, and I just kept wondering if there was any way that this could possibly get more embarrassing and aggravating.

  “Are you on drugs, Anna?”

  Yes, apparently it could get more embarrassing and aggravating. I had no idea where that question came from because I didn’t think that I’d ever given him a reason to think that I was on drugs to begin with. If this question was because he’d seen me kiss Evan, I didn’t even want to think about the other questions that he might have had in store for me.

  I blinked at him, my mouth moving without sound before I finally managed to say, “Excuse me?”

  “I just wanted to make sure.”

  “You think that little of me?”

  “Of course not! I just—”

  “No, Dad, I’m not on drugs. I don’t smoke, I’ve never gone over the speed limit, I’ve never been suspended from school, and I’ve been accepted into my first choice college.”

  “You were?”

  I wasn’t sure whether I wanted to cry, scream, or throw things to get out my frustration. I’d purposely left the acceptance letter from NYU that I received a few months ago on the kitchen table so that maybe he’d see it and say something or at least look at it and know that his daughter was moving away from this place when she graduated. I’d even foolishly hoped that he’d be proud of me.

  “Yes, I was,” I said, folding my hands in my lap.

  “Where’s that?”

  “NYU.”

  “You are not going to the city.”

  “I’m not going to the community college.”

  “Well you’re not going to New York, either.”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s too far away.”

  “It’s three hours.”

  “It’s too far away,” he said again.

  “That’s the point!” I exclaimed.

  “You want to get away from everyone here—including me—that badly?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  We sat in silence for what felt like forever, and I’d memorized every little groove of my fingernails before he cleared his throat.

  “Well, I can’t stop you.”

  “Do you even want to?”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “I’m invisible to you, Dad; we both know it.” I threw my hands in the air before letting them plop back on my thighs. “When I leave for college, what’s going to change for you?”

  “Anna, you’re not invisible to me . . .”

  “Sure I’m not, Dad.” I stood and smoothed my hands over my shirt. “Does my being grounded bar running as well?”

  “An hour. If you’re not back within that time, I’m coming to look for you,” he said, his voice detached as he stared down at the coffee table.

  “Because I definitely deserve to be treated like a prisoner, don’t I?”

  I ran up the stairs without waiting for an answer, fighting off angry tears as I changed and threw my hair up into a ponytail. I slid my sneakers on and ran back down the stairs, grabbing my iPod from the table and walking onto the porch. As I stuck the ear buds into my ears, I let out a shaky breath and bolted down the porch steps.

  It didn’t matter that I’d run five miles the day before and my legs had been protesting all day; I needed to get out and not be around anyone. I needed time to myself, and this was the only way I was going to get it with my dad being home.

  I did my best not to think about anything but jogging my usual route and concentrating on the music flowing through the buds to my ears—nothing but the feel of the pavement underneath my feet. The wind hitting my face, and the relaxation I could only feel out here helped me to relax.

  I came to the street before Steve Forrester’s house—like usual—and hesitated as I reached the corner. No one would be there yet; it was doubtful that even Steve would be there yet. After all, he had to drive into Albany to beg his brother to buy some beer from the liquor store he worked at so that everyone had something to drink. I pulled my iPod out from my pocket and looked at the time. Estimating I had about five extra minutes of freedom, I started down the street.

  Mr. and Mrs. Forrester were upper-class business owners that put entirely too much faith in their youngest son. They owned a successful construction company and often went into the city on the weekends to visit family for some reason or another, leaving him full reign over the white, two-story house in the middle of town. I was absolutely amazed that word had never gotten back to them about the chaos that surrounded this house whenever they weren’t around, but figured that his laid-back uncle—a cop—was able to keep it under wraps for him.

  I slowed down as I got to his house, noticing that his old Buick—the one his brother had beat to shit before handing it down to Steve when he got a brand new one courtesy of Mommy and Daddy Forrester—was still sitting in the driveway with a For Sale sign in the window.

  I turned around and started back in the direction of my house, breathed in the fresh air, and tried to relax.

  I slowly opened my eyes the next morning and looked around my bedroom, almost afraid that if I moved too much, something would shift and my world would come crashing down around me. I didn’t sleep very well last night, every single scenario running through my mind and making me crazy to the point where I’d actually started talking to myself and thinking that I should’ve taken Kyle up on his offer to sneak me out of the house.

  He needed an excuse to use the ski mask, after all. It would’ve been perfect for sneaking me out. Dad never would’ve known the difference, and I might have been able to get some damn sleep.

  I rubbed my face before throwing the covers off and sitting up. I listened for any movement in the house and was thankful when I didn’t hear anything.

  When I had returned from my run, my dad was back in his spot on the couch, the remote in his hand, and his eyes glued to the documentary he’d chosen to watch. I’d rolled my eyes and went upstairs to take a shower and finish my homework.

  I hadn’t gotten very far on the homework bit because as soon as I saw my human physiology textbook, I thought of Evan. When I thought of Evan, I thought of him going to the party. When I thought of him going to the party, I imagined him calling me the next morning and telling me that he’d changed his mind. And that really didn’t leave me in the mood to do anything but stare out my window and pray that the universe held some sort of pity for me and would not let that happen.

  I stood, stretched, and made my way to my bedroom door, pulling it open and walking down the stairs. I went into the kitchen and a grin broke out on my face when I saw the white orchid sitting on the table. I squealed to myself and practically danced over to it, picking it up, and pressing it against my nose. I looked down to see that a disc was underneath it and picked it up. Nothing was written on the front, and I shrugged, the orchid still up to my nose as I started back up to my room with the disc in my hand.

  Maybe Evan dropped it off before Dad went golfing. Maybe he dropped it off last night before he went to the party—I wasn’t that far from Steve’s house.

  I walked into my bedroom and turned on my computer. As I waited for it to boot up, I plopped down into the seat and placed the orchid on the little spac
e of desk in front of the monitor. When everything finally loaded, I all but ripped the DVD out of the case and stuck it into the computer, impatiently tapping my foot as it hummed at me. I opened the file and grinned at the name—For Anna.

  That was when I got the same feeling I had last Friday when I walked in to school and found my locker vandalized, but ignored it and leaned back in the chair.

  My heart raced as the computer screen went black. I placed my hands in my lap, sucking in a deep breath when I saw the back of Steve’s house appear on the screen. My hands curled into fists, my nails biting into my skin as the person behind the camera wordlessly walked to the front yard. People were scattered all around, most smoking and still drinking as they laughed like idiots. The camera zoomed in on Evan sitting in the front seat of the Buick. He was holding a blue party cup half-full of some liquid I probably didn’t care to know about and smoking what looked to be a joint. My breath caught as the person behind the camera practically ran over to him.

  Evan grinned lazily. “You want?” His voice slurred as he held out the joint.

  When the person behind the camera didn’t speak, Evan lifted his arm in a your loss gesture before bringing it to his lips, crossing his ankles on the ground. He wore that red and blue striped shirt he’d had on a few days ago with a pair of dark jeans and military boots.

  “Evan!”

  He looked up and his lazy smile returned when Steve entered the frame and leaned against the car door and poked his head through the open window.

  “What are you doing out here all alone?”

  “Chillin’.”

  “Cool . . . cool. So, tell me about Arianna Weller, dude.”

  I tightened my hands into fists, not caring that I might end up drawing my own blood if I kept it up.

  “Arianna Weller,” Evan said slowly, smoke fuming from his mouth. “She’s not very attractive, is she, Steve?”

  I choked and placed one hand flat on my chest, staring at the screen.

  “Possibly one of the most unattractive girls in our entire school.” He slid lower into the seat and stretched his legs out in front of him. “Probably never even gotten laid.”

  “Probably never been kissed, either,” Steve piped up.

  “Like the movie!” Evan laughed, the end of the joint glowing in the darkness of the car. “Although, even Drew Barrymore is hotter than Arianna.”

  “Her chin annoys me.”

  “At least she has one.”

  “Score!” Steve shouted, leaning farther into the car and slapping Evan’s arm. “You think you’ll ever fuck her, Evan?”

  “Nah.” He sat up, his head tilted to the side. “I don’t think I’ll ever be that desperate—or that obliterated.”

  As it faded to black, every inch of me felt numb. I was gasping for breath—that much I was aware of—but everything else just became a big blur to me. All I could think was that I was right.

  He’d never changed. This was all just a joke to him. I was just a joke to him, and I’d let it happen.

  I clenched my teeth together and screamed through them, burying my hands in my hair. Then I pulled, not feeling the pain I so desperately needed before I pulled out the DVD. I threw it onto my desk, grabbed the orchid, and stormed down the stairs.

  The garbage disposal worked on and off most of the time, and I usually found it easier to throw things in the garbage can than to deal with the aftermath of picking out leftovers from the drain, but right now, I wanted this cut into pieces. Whether I was his social experiment and all of this was a great hoax designed to humiliate me and make him seem more superior to all of his friends or this was some elaborate plan to break up with me, I didn’t know.

  I no longer cared.

  I shoved the orchid down the drain and reached over to flip on the switch, watching as it disappeared. My breath was still shuddering, and I was vaguely aware of the tears that were rolling down my cheeks as I stared at the drain, but I couldn’t bring myself to care. I flipped off the switch and wiped my cheeks, and I made a sound I couldn’t define as I started back toward the stairs.

  I was such an idiot to think that he could ever change; to think that anything he’d ever said to me meant anything. Was everything we’d been through leading to this moment where I was beyond hurt or embarrassed, past anything any of them had ever done to me before?

  I stopped at the bottom of the stairs and looked up at them, my vision going blurry as tears filled my eyes again. Gripping the rail, I started up the stairs, breathing heavily.

  He hadn’t completely gained my trust, but he’d been damn close, and that’s what pissed me off and hurt the most. I’d let my guard down more than I normally would have with anyone other than Christina and Vince. And this is what I got for thinking that anyone else was worth any of my time and energy; for giving someone a second chance.

  When the phone rang, I clenched my jaw. Wiping my face off one more time before I made my way over to the phone, I snatched it up, cleared my throat, and put it to my ear.

  “Hello?”

  “Good morning, girlfriend.”

  My eyes narrowed and tears fell.

  “You don’t need to call me that anymore, Evan,” I said coolly, clenching my hand into a fist and staring down at the floor. “I got your gifts this morning, and everything is loud and fucking clear.”

  “What?” he asked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

  “Don’t play stupid with me, Evan! How dare you call me after that? How dare you say any of that? You . . . you’re . . . I’m a human being, Evan, and you can’t just treat me this way!”

  I was shrieking at this point and only realized it when I stopped talking and the silence rang heavily in my ears. My heartbeat was erratic, and I could feel every inch of me shaking as tears continued to drip off my chin.

  “Please tell me what you’re talking about, Anna.”

  “Stop it! You know exactly what I’m talking about! I don’t know why you couldn’t just say it to my face and break up with me that way! There was no need for this! I didn’t . . . I’ve never . . .”

  My legs gave out beneath me, and I dropped to the floor hard, realizing too late that I was a sobbing mess, and he knew it. It only served to piss me off, but I couldn’t catch my breath, and I couldn’t do anything but clutch the phone to my ear and want to kill him.

  “Anna, please,” he begged, almost sounding sincere. “Please tell me what I did.”

  “You know what you did.”

  “No, I don’t! Please, just talk to me.”

  “How much did you drink last night, Evan, that you wouldn’t remember calling me the most unattractive girl you’ve ever seen? Or saying that you’d never sleep with me because you’d never be that desperate or obliterated?”

  “What are you . . . ? Oh, no,” he whispered. “No, Anna, no, no, no, you don’t—”

  “Fuck you,” I whispered, angrily wiping my face. “I’m done.”

  “Anna, listen to me!”

  I slammed the phone back on the cradle and stood up, trying my hardest to catch my breath as I ran my hands through my hair and started back toward the stairs. The phone rang again, but I ignored it, keeping my eyes front and center as I climbed the stairs.

  What I’d feared about last night had come true, and it was no one’s fault but my own. I’d let him in, and all it did was get me hurt and make me more of a laughing stock around the school than I’d ever been. I’d let myself almost forget how cruel and heartless he could be when he put his mind to it, and that was my mistake. I’d forgotten that he could be an asshole, and I ended up hurting because of it.

  I made it back to my bedroom, slowly closing the door behind me and leaning against it. Everything was the same as it had been two weeks ago; I was alone, and there were only a few more months until graduation. I had no one to leave behind who would miss me that much, and nothing but passing my classes and getting the hell out of this town mattered.

  With a shaky breath, I wiped away the t
ears from my cheeks for the last time that day before walking over to my dresser and grabbing an old pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt.

  Evan Drake was no longer worth anything to me, much less my tears.

  I looked up when I thought I heard footsteps making their way toward me, and I ripped my ear buds out, holding my soapy hands out in front of me.

  “No!” I exclaimed. “The floor’s wet, and your boots are dirty!”

  My dad looked down at me, his eyebrows raised and his mouth parted in something I was assuming was shock.

  I was on my hands and knees in the kitchen, scrubbing the hell out of the floor because working on homework hadn’t done anything but make everything worse. The cycle that had started last night when I had tried to concentrate on the human physiology paper only worsened, and I’d come downstairs to get a drink.

  I noticed that the floor was filthy—along with the rest of the house—and had abandoned my homework to clean it. The phone hadn’t stopped ringing, and I’d eventually grabbed my iPod to drown out the annoying sound. I didn’t check the answering machine for fear that I wouldn’t be strong enough to not listen to the messages that may or may not have been there.

  “Uh, Anna . . . what are you doing?”

  “I’m cleaning. What does it look like I’m doing?” I snapped.

  “Why?” he asked slowly.

  “Well, if you haven’t noticed, the floor was dirty, and it needed to be cleaned. I’m going to vacuum the living room when I’m done here so I hope that you don’t have any shows you want to watch.”

  “Anna, it’s Saturday.”

  “I don’t know the stupid schedules!”

  “No, that’s not . . . why are you cleaning the floor on a Saturday afternoon?”

  “I’m grounded,” I snapped again. “What else would you propose I do?”

  “Well . . . watch television?”

  “Like there’s anything I’d be interested in.”

  “Well then, how about you go talk to Evan?”

  My eyes narrowed, and my heart thumped painfully in my chest.

  “Why would I do that?” I asked through my teeth.

  “Because he says he’s been standing outside for the past three hours.”