Tattooed Hearts

Phone Calls & Holding Hands

I hear a scream and the front door slamming and I can only suspect the poor woman has met her unlucky surprise. Thuds sound from the stairs and my bedroom door opens.

"Where are you?!" My father yells, throwing things around my room as he searches for me. He wiggles the locked bathroom door handle and begins to pound on the door. "Get out here so I can beat your ass!"

I squeeze my eyes shut and listen to his raging for minutes and minutes, my lip quivering and arms shaking. I sit on the lid of the toilet, pulling my legs to my chest and wrapping my arms around them, resting my head on them and waiting for his shouts and punches to stop.

The pounding finally stops. "Go kill yourself." He mumbles from the other side and returns upstairs.

Sobs escape my lips as I stand up and brush my teeth, leaning down to spit in the sink. I raise my head and stare at myself, tired eyes, matted hair, ugly skin. Useless.

I unlock the bathroom door, which now has cracks stretching across the wood from my father's merciless fists. I take my guitar and take a seat on my bed, strumming a few chords, playing with the notes a bit and trying to create a tune. I can't even do that.

One thought runs through my head. I am a screw up.

I set the guitar down and lay down, staring at the ceiling until my phone rings. The name pops up as Isaac. I quickly rub my tears away and take a deep breath, answering.

"Hello?" I say, voice shaky. I silently clear my throat, I don't want him to think something's wrong.

"Hey! Did you make it home safely?" He asks from the other end.

"Yes, tell your mom thanks again," I reply, staring at the photos I plastered on the roof of my room. There are some of me when I was little. In one of them, my mom is brushing my hair, her own curls pulled into a bun. Another, she is wiping cake off my face. The most recent one was a selfie taken of us in the backyard. Our smiles were bright. She had straightened my hair for the first time ever. She was hugging my shoulders, our faces pressed against each other's.

"Okay. I'll see you Monday?" He says cheerfully, shaking me from my daydream.

"Yes,"

"Great. Goodnight, Grace Baker." He softly says.

"Goodnight." I say back and hang up, tossing my phone down and pulling the blanket over myself closing my eyes, drifting into a peaceful sleep.

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"Grace Baker!" A voice shouts across the school courtyard as I make my way up the stairs. I turn around and lower my hoodie to see Isaac running my way. It's a chilly Monday morning, and Isaac was texting me all weekend. I didn't dare to tell him about what I went through with my dad Friday night, and Saturday and Sunday I worked double shift at the diner.

"Look," He holds up the math test that he did horrible on. A fresh B+ is written across the top. "She let me take it again. She said it would have been an A if hadn't failed the first time. You're tutoring paid off!"

I smile. "Great job. Guess you don't need tutoring anymore," I say and start to walk off.

He puts a hand on my shoulder and stops me. "Well, actually, I was wondering if you just want to work on some homework together later today?" He asks hopefully.

"Oh, um, okay, I am working at 6:00 tonight but I am free before then?"

He grins. "Perfect. I can take you home after school."

"It's okay, I rode my bike."

"It's supposed to be cold this afternoon, Grace Baker, and I don't want you to get sick."

"Oh," I let out a sigh of relief. "Cool. That sounds great."

"Alright, Grace Baker."

"You know my name is just Grace."

He winks. "But Grace Baker has a fun ring to it." He then walks off.

I head into the building and to my locker, putting in my code and swinging it open when a face appeared next to me.

"Hey Grace," Claire, a chirpy girl with long red hair and the most annoying pitched voice said.

"Hey," I mumble back. Just the sight of her annoys me. We have a shaky past.

"I made muffins this morning in honor of Halloween," She said, showing me. Why was she still acting like my friend? "Would you like one? Just, try not to throw it up."

I slam my locker shut. "I'm done with that now," I say. And I hope it's true. After throwing up the lasagna, I was barely feeling okay. I was dizzy all weekend and felt like I would collapse any second. I was slowly killing myself, and I need to find a way to stop the urges to throw up.

"I hope so. Such a shame, you know," Claire whispers quietly. "That a pretty face like yours is just a waste of space."

Suddenly, another figure walks into my line of vision, Connor. He snakes his hands around Claire's waist, kissing her neck. "Hey baby. Is Grace giving you a hard time?" He says.

I roll my eyes. As he continues to kiss her neck. She smiles slyly at me, knowing the anger building inside of me.

"Hey Grace, you ready?" Isaac's voice rings from behind me.

"Isaac! What're you doing here?" Connor says, looking up. Do they know each other?

"Just here to walk this lady to class," He smiles, linking his hand in mine. "Shall we?"

I hesitantly nod. What the hell is he doing?

"Great," We walk off, and when we reach first period I instantly let go.

"What was that?" I ask, shoving my hands into my pockets.

"Just wanted to save you."

"I don't need saving." I huff.

"Fine. I just wanted an excuse to hold your hand." He grins.

"Wha–"

"Come on Grace Baker! We've gotta get to class!" He whines, tugging me into the room before I can ask any more questions.

❁ ❁ ❁

Hello! Hope you liked this chapter. What do you think happened between Grace and Claire? You'll get a taste of her character as the story goes on. And isn't Isaac cute, lol. Keep reading! <3

-Acreativeblur