Weeping Willow (Spanking Story)

Chapter 5, Part 2: Owen's POV

I didn't really come out of my room for the rest of the weekend. I ate when no one else was around, no matter how late I had to wait just to get some food. Ben and Cooper had both knocked on my door, wanting to talk, but had for once respected my privacy and left me alone. I guess they could see this wasn't just some pouty episode I was having.

Dana hadn't come by my room. I wasn't sure whether I was glad or disappointed, maybe a mixture of both.

That Monday had to have been the Holy Mother of all Shit Mondays. Despite lying in bed all day and night, I had gotten a meager two hours of sleep—if even that. My head felt as if it were stuffed with cotton, my eyelids felt like lead weights, and my back was sore and stiff from not moving. I hadn't bothered to shower—teenage boys don't usually consider personal hygiene a top priority—and I was debating whether or not just to skip class and go back home. Ben, despite all that happened, had informed me that I would be spending at least the next week at the house. Needless to say, Danny was furious.

Leah seemed concerned when I came into Chemistry two minutes late, accepting the detention slip without complaint and plopping down in my desk wordlessly. I didn't speak the entire class, just took notes and didn't let my gaze waver from the PowerPoint. I felt a bit like Penny.

It was second period that was eating away at my brain and heart and probably lungs too, seeing as I was having difficulty breathing. Second period was math. With Dana. I hadn't seen him since Saturday night, hadn't seen him since his dark eyes sparked with pure anger and despise. My last memory of him was the open palm of his hand.

The bell rung too early for my liking, and I took as long as possible packing away my things. Leah had already left, put out by my silent treatment, but I couldn't bring myself to feel bad.

I kept my head lowered, eyes following the path directly in front of my feet. I slid silently through the open doorway and slinked to my seat in the back, determined to avoid any and all possible contact with my second oldest brother.

It turned out to be much easier than I thought. Dana didn't even look over to my side of the room for the entire duration of his class. He didn't call on me—the first time since school began—and he didn't hand out graded papers to us individually as he would have normally (something about confidentiality and all that). Instead, he let a student pass them out, and didn't even give me a stern glance at my mediocre grade.

If was as if I weren't even there.

I knew I couldn't have it both ways, I knew that. I couldn't avoid Dana, but at the same time expect normal treatment from him. I couldn't be both angry with him and feel neglected by him. Yet, I was. I suppose I just wanted an apology, more than anything. The fact that he valued his pride over his little brother struck me right to the core. It only solidified my worry that I was not a choice in Dana's life, but a burden.

I wonder how long it took for a transfer of guardianship, or if I even had to have one to live with my real, biological parents. We were due to meet on Thursday evening, and I'd approach the matter then. The sooner I was out of my brothers' hair, the better.

I met with Dylan Peters during lunch at our usual spot. His answering grunt when I handed him the money let me know that my parent's efforts had been successful. He was no longer a threat to me anymore.

"Get outta here, Kherrington, I got someone better to deal for me than your scrawny ass."

It was an absolute blessing, if anything.

~*~

On Wednesday evening, my door opened abruptly.

I sat up, spine creaking in protest, as my sister popped her head around the edge of the door, an unreadable look on her face.

"Go away, Penny," I mumbled, flopping back down on my warm pillows. They smelled slightly of oil—probably from my unwashed hair.

She ignored me, of course, and strode into the room as if she owned the place. She plopped herself down on my faded bedspread, nose wrinkling at the evident B.O. in the air. "When's the last time you took a shower? It reeks in here."

"Whatever. Just leave me alone," I said, rolling onto my stomach and stuffing my face into the pillow. Maybe if I didn't look at her, she'd disappear or something.

"Why are you moping like a teenage girl?" my sister asked, flicking my duvet-covered foot with her finger.

"I'm grounded, remember, genius?" I didn't bother telling her the real reason; either she already knew and was being purposefully oblivious, or she didn't know at all. Either way, no way in hell was I bringing it up.

"No you're not. And besides, being grounded doesn't mean skipping meals, smartass," she remarked. "And not showering."

"Why do you even care?" I groaned, rolling back over and putting my arms behind my head. Maybe the stench would drive her out...

Yeah, I know; fifteen-year-old boys are disgusting.

"I'm starting to wonder if I'm still the only girl in this house..."

I remained silent, beyond annoyed with her sarcasm.

"Look, Owen." No more beating around the bush. "What Dana did to you was really shitty and he shouldn't have done that to you. But sitting around moping and wallowing isn't doing anything to help. Ben said he apologized—"

"He didn't apologize. He stood right there and basically admitted that Ben forced him to. Then, when I wouldn't accept it, I got grounded for even longer."

"Well... still. Some things you just have to get over and move on in life," Penny said with finality, as if she knew the freaking world like the back of her hand.

"Just get out," I ordered, raising my voice slightly. "You wouldn't understand; you never do!"

"Stop being a drama queen, Owen! It happened like a week ago and—yeah it was totally wrong—but it's time for you to get over it! I'm sorry that it happened to you, I really am, and I know—"

"You don't know anything," I seethed. "You don't know half the shit I've been through!" Clearly she had no idea about what Dana had done last weekend, but I was too far gone in my anger to even tell her. My sister always jumped to conclusions and thought she knew better than everybody else.

"What are you talking about? Everything you've been through, I have, too! Don't pretend like that's not true! I had to deal with our parents and everything too, Owen!" Penny stood up, hands on her hips and fire in her eyes.

I sat up again, ready to throw it all right back to her. "Don't you dare talk about my parents! Don't you dare! Not everyone lives a fairytale life, Princess Penny!" I spat.

My sister dropped her arms then, anger melting off her in droopy waves. "You know, Owen, I know not everyone lives a fairytale life. Some people hate themselves so much, they hurt themselves. But you wouldn't know anything about that, because all you care about is yourself." She turned resolutely, and marched out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

What in the hell was up with her? People hurting themselves? What had Penny been talking about?

I sighed in defeat; never in a million years would I be able to figure my weird little sister out.

One minute, she seemed totally oblivious to the outside world, nose in a book and eyes glued to the page. Other times, she seemed to be in over her head with God-knows-what. Probably trivial teenage drama. Nothing like what I was going through.

It didn't matter; soon, I wouldn't have to deal with her, either. I was going to live with people who actually wanted me, who never even gave me up in the first place.