Things we said today (completed)

7

"Oh my god! What's today?" I asked, my dumb mistake dawning on me.
"Monday, love," George answered, and I grabbed my car keys.
"Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! SHHIITTT!" I yelled, and began to run to the door.
"Wait! What's wrong?" Paul asked, and I turned.
"I'm late for work! They're going to fire me!" I shouted, and Paul began to rush to the door with me.
    "Here, I'll go with you, where do you work?" He asked, and I didn't have time to fight him, so we both made our way to my car.
    "Franny's pastries," I replied, and he got into the passengers seat while I got into the driver's.
    "Ohh, I'm definitely going now!" He joked, but I was too busy worrying to laugh. He suddenly got very serious.
    "Hey love, it's going to be okay," he coped, but tears began to fall down my face.
    "No, Paul. It actually isn't! I don't think you realize just what I'm risking here! You get to run around and sing and you make money! The rest of us have to have real jobs, Paul! And I'm about to lose mine! This was all a mistake," I shouted, but my voice got quieter at the end. He was just looking at me with a hurt expression on his face.
     "Real job," he repeated, and I regretted shouted at him, "mistake. I was your mistake, right?" He sadly asked, but I didn't answer.  I just kept driving.
     "Paul, I didn't mean it," I started, but he finished for me, sounded dazed.
     "No, you did, and I never thought someone like you could say something like that," he said quietly, and I felt tears continue to slide down my face.
     "Someone like me?" I asked, and he just nodded, eyes fixated on the road ahead.
     "Someone like you. Someone that truly gets me. That girl studying art in the coffee shop, the girl in the classic sectional the library. I thought you were the one," he said, and I felt lump forming in my throat. I swallowed and wiped away the tears.
    "Paul, I was just angry. I'm still the girl you met in the library! The girl from the coffee shop!" I promised, but he looked at me as if he didn't know me.
    "No. you aren't who I thought you were. I don't know you," Paul said, and I felt even worse.
   "Paul, you said you'd never break my heart," I whispered, fresh tears rolling down my face.
   "I never thought you'd break mine," he said sadly, and I couldn't believe what was happening.
     "I knew this would happen! I knew that if I gave my heart away, it would get cracked," I said, silently cursing myself for falling. I don't know what I was falling into, love maybe.
     "How can you say that? After what you did?" Paul asked, suddenly angry, and I felt myself recoil from his shouts. He looked at me strangely.
    "Are you okay?" He asked, and I nodded, the memories rushing back to me.
    "I will be," I said, and he furrowed his eyebrows at me.
    "No, I mean physically. You winced when I shouted. Why do you have that reaction?" He asked, and I put up a figurative wall between us. I wasn't ready to tell him about my childhood and what I'd been through.
    "Let it go, Paul," I said, and we sat silently in the car until we got there.
    I got out, and expecting him to catch a cab, I ran inside.
    "LIZZIE!" My boss yelled at me as soon as I walked into the door, and I winced again.
     Suddenly, I heard the bell from the door behind me and knew Paul had come in.
    "I'm so sorry, Mr. Lester, I had a rough morning," I said apologetically, but I knew he wasn't done. I was often late, and he just got angrier and angrier each time. He walked from behind the counter and got inches from me.
   "ARE YOU THIS STUPID?!" He yelled, and I could feel the spit flying from his mouth and onto my face. I wiped it away while he continued to yell.
   "I'm-I'm so sorry, it won't happen again," I promised, but he was still yelling at me, when I opened my eyes, his face was beet red.
    "YOU STUPID GIRL! I SWEAR, IT'S ALWAYS THE SAME WITH YOU, LIZZIE!" He yelled, and I closed my eyes again only to hear Paul hit him.
    "Paul!" I gasped, and he held the fist he struck Mr. Lester with.
     Suddenly, I realized everyone was taking pictures and that this would be all over the tabloids in the morning. I grabbed Paul's hand and led him out of there. This time, he drove and I sat in the driver's seat twirling my hair.
    "You let him talk to you like that?" Paul asked, and I sighed. I knew I'd have to tell him about my past.
    "Y-yes. You didn't have to do that," I said shakily, and he gripped the steering wheel tighter, turning his knuckles white.
    "You can't just let people talk to you like that! Is that why you flinched when I yelled at you?" He asked, and I pushed back the tears threading to spill over. I had never even said these words out loud before, but there was no way to get around it now.
   "No. it was my dad. He was an angry drunk, and my mom left when I was four. One day, he got really drunk and he took it too far. He um.... he did something that a little girl should never have to experience," I said, and he looked like he was going to cry for me. I couldn't even bring myself to say the word "rape."
   "He raped you?" Paul asked, and I nodded. He looked angry and sad for me.
   "I guess you could say that," I said, and he clenched his jaw.
   "Liz, I'm so mad. No one should have to go through that," he said, and I continued speaking shakily.
    "I was 14, and I spent three days in the hospital. After that, I lived with my aunt," I finished, and he took it all in before responding .
    "Did he go to jail?" Paul asked, and I looked out of the window.
    "No, you're the first person I've ever told," I said, and he gasped. He couldn't seem to get his head wrapped around this.
    "Fathers aren't supposed to be like this," he said, and I laughed sadly.
   "Paul, it isn't all love and rainbows for some people. I had a rough background, but I don't let it get to me. Don't get too hung up on it," I said, and he shook his head.
   "I don't understand," he said slowly, "I mean, your life has been changed forever because of him," he said, putting emphasis on the word "him."
    "It is what it is, Paul. Just let it go. Please," I Begged, and he dropped it, even though I knew he wanted to continue our conversation.
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I feel like a Disney writer because all of my characters have sad backgrounds. Oh well! This book will also {probably} tackle issues like rape, self-harm, suicide, and things like that. If you can't handle that, you probably shouldn't read this!