The Tattooed Devil Wears Chucks

Chapter 14: "Two is our limit."

He comes further into the room, ignoring my plea for him not to.  "Gabby you don't understand how dangerous he is..."

"He should have killed Jimmy for what he did to Courtney" I mutter.

He falls silent. I know he hasn't left the room, I can almost hear him thinking, racking his brain in an attempt to figure out how I could have possibly figured it out.

"Did Courtney tell you?" He breaks his own silence.

"No.  The guy who walked me home did.  He told me everything.  About Jimmy, about Jimmy's mom... all of it."

He doesn't like this answer. He hovers over my bed, grabbing my arm back, gently, so that I have to look at him as he speaks. I still don't. I stare at the Goo Goo Dolls poster above my bed.

"Gabby, he has major anger issues.  I don't want you near someone who snaps like that!  The law should have taken care of that guy... not Jackson."

I turn angrily to meet his eyes.  Mine are still flooded with tears. 

"Dad what did the law do to Jimmy?  Nothing.  He raped a girl and the law did nothing.  His punishment was doled out by her older brother, and it was lax for what he did.  The law happily took care of the brother who snapped when he found his friend raping his sister."

"And that's just it Gabby... he snapped..." he sighs.  "Twice, and in a split second his anger went from zero to a hundred.  Even on the porch the other night, he was getting angry.  How do you know he wouldn't have snapped right then?"

"I wish he would have."  I turn back in my bed and throw my covers back over me.

His breathing escalated as my ears catch the flaring of his nostrils. I may be stubborn but I get it from him.

"Get up Gabrielle.  You're going to the game with us." His voice turns to pure anger.  Before I can even object he barks his signature statement towards me. "It's not a request."

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The bleachers are hot against my legs, causing me to continuously readjust my position to prevent them from scalding me. The season is just on the brink of changing to summer. 

The school's baseball fields are exactly where I don't want to be today.  Half the town comes out to these games and here I sit, looking like a disheveled mess because I've spent the afternoon crying over a guy.

I sit besides my dad, who I haven't spoken a word to since the conversation in my bedroom.  Even my mom isn't talking to me.  It would be useless if she did, every time she tried to object to my punishment my dad just gets angrier with both of us. My mother would see things as a mom and as a teenage girl. Sometimes it was as if my dad only thought like a police officer.

The crowd stands and cheers; suddenly I realize I'm not even watching the game.  I can't tell you the score or even if Syd has been up to bat.  My eyes keep focused on my feet and the bleachers covered in popcorn bits and dirt.

I don't even want popcorn, what the hell is wrong with me?

More people join us on the bleachers, it's a double header today. I don't bother looking up; I don't want to know who will be staring at the angsty and sulking teenager beside them. It is Luxberg, I'm sure I'll hear about it eventually, the game, my moping, all of it. I hold my wrist out, selecting an orange rubber band to begin snapping.