It's What You Do to Me

It's What You Do to Me (7)

“You have him totally whipped. Literally, too, if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“First of all, I’m not into that sort of thing. Second, I do not have him whipped.”

“You so do,” Alice smiled, jumping over to my bed and sitting on the edge of it. “River’s totally willing to do absolutely anything for you! It’s not a bad thing or anything, I guess, but I just find it really sweet. And you know how hard it is for me to find something sweet or cute.”

“Especially when it comes to Rex,” I muttered, sitting up now.

Alice continued to smile, knocking me in the shoulder lightly. “Nah, pretty much everything Rex does is sweet and cute. I don’t get how he does it, but he can act like a cute little kid no matter what situation he’s in. I really admire him for that, because there’s no way that I’d ever be able to do that. You know me, I’m tough.”

I smiled at Alice sadly. “Well, you have a reason to be.”

When she was little, Alice was abused by her dad, and her mother was too powerless to stop it. This caused Alice to grow up to become tough and strong, and she learned to stick up for herself. When she was thirteen, she called the cops on her dad when he hit her mother. Ever since then, she hadn’t been afraid to speak her mind or stick up for herself and the people she cared about.

The only person that she had when she was little was her cousin, Avery. All the other kids were scared of her because of the cuts and bruises her dad would give her. But now she was scar-free, and she had plenty of friends and didn’t need a jerk like Avery.

It was so weird to think that Alice and I used to hate each other. And it was all because she tried to hit on Seth, and he used me to try and get her away. But now we were such good friends, and I was glad that she was going out with Rex. Because if she wasn’t going out with him and we hadn’t become friends, I would still be judging her without knowing what she had to go through.

Alice’s dad would try to get in touch with her once in a while, but she refused to talk to him. At first I didn’t understand why; I mean, she should have at least talked to him once, right? To see if he had changed? But when she asked me what I would have done if Mr. Higginson called me, I shut up. She said that she felt the same exact way that I did if that were to happen. She said that every time she got a phone call from him, she felt the same way that I did whenever I got a note.

So I didn’t bother her about it anymore. Whenever she got a call, she would just ignore it. If we were having a fun conversation or something and the phone rang, once she saw it was him, she would go silent and solemn, and not talk for a few hours. I hadn’t ever seen Alice Walters scared of anything before I learned about her father. And Alice Walters being scared is probably one of the scariest things I had ever seen.

Along with everything that had happened with Mr. Higginson, of course.

“Speaking of which,” Alice started with a sigh as she stood up from my bed, “I think today’s the bastard’s birthday. He usually calls on birthdays. Even his own.”

The way Alice had said it made me sad, and all I wanted to do was try and find a way to make her happy. But I knew that there was nothing I could have done. I knew that she wished that her father was a good person, and I knew that she wished that he was with her then and not locked up in prison, but she was really afraid of her father. Though he had been sober since he got thrown in prison, she was afraid that once he got out he would start drinking again and go after her, since she was the reason he had gotten thrown into jail in the first place.

“Don’t worry about him, okay?” I asked, trying to smile. “You don’t have to be afraid of him. He’s in prison.”

Alice shook her head, and I knew she was fighting back tears. I felt so bad for her; I knew what it was like to be afraid of someone that was in prison. People would tell you that there was no way that he could get to you because he was in jail, but something inside of you would always tell you that there was a possibility, even if there really wasn’t.