Chapter 17 - Half-Genuine

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I walked inside the house and turned on the lights, then set the grocery bags down on the kitchen counter before heading to my bedroom for a more comfortable change of clothes. The door was slightly ajar; I most probably had forgotten to shut it yesterday in my haste to leave the house.

I easily pushed it open. As I stood still by the doorframe, my hand rose instinctively to my mouth. Blood rushed to the surface of every inch of my skin, eyes surveying the mess on my bed. It was, or would have been, my homecoming dress over the undisturbed bed sheets. Cut through in five different layers, a scissor used to tear completely through the fabric from one end to the other. A single red rose lay by the ruined neckline of the velvet dress. Unable to believe my own vision, I moved toward the bed and placed my hand over the flower, letting it slide over the pieces.

For moments I could only stare at the ruins, until a sob broke from my chest and tears started to pour rampantly from my eyes. I couldn't control the shaking of my body or the strength with which my chest heaved, paining me as I tried my best to fight for a composure that seemed worlds away.

I gathered the pieces into my hands, examining the fabric for something, anything, to tell me why he had done this. But there was nothing there. The ruined dress and single, mocking rose was enough of a message. This was his punishment, and there was no doubting who he was.

I was about to throw it all into the trash when something stopped me. I hid everything in a box inside my closet and wiped the tears from my face. In the kitchen I proceeded to season the meats and cut up some peppers. Mechanically I tossed each ingredient into the pan, staring at the stove top as I stirred and stirred. Then came the meticulous dicing of the tomatoes and lettuce, and where once I would have let the chore consume my mind, now it became impossible, thoughts bombarding me from every direction.

I had no idea what to do. Twice now my home had been violated, my personal belongings and privacy destroyed. I considered confiding in my older brother, but the thought of further straining my home life and ending whatever remaining peace there was put a block in my chest. I wanted to tell someone, I did, but I hated that Mr. Gallagher's face emerged every time I considered to whom. Encroaching on his life, when he must have problems and responsibilities of his own, was unfair of me. I had no business in involving him in my issues, stupid as they were. He was my teacher. I was his student. There were certain lines I could not cross and this was one of them.

It had only been a dress. Dean was just playing games with a girl he had known and ignored for most of his life. He couldn't possibly mean to do anything worse than these stupid, childish games. I knew they were probably just impulsive reactions to having been refused for the first time, especially by someone like me. He had said so himself.

For now, I would test the waters. I wouldn't burden anyone with my problems, not when Bran had just gotten a promotion and had a thousand responsibilities concerning Chad and me, or when Mr. Gallagher had already wasted time and effort in this stupid game I was thrown into. I didn't have the gall to. Soon, I would find the right time to confront him on my own.

I finished the taco bar and laid the cake out onto the table. I was starting on the last balloon when the door rattled quietly, both my brothers walking inside. Two balloons would do, I thought, and plastered onto my face a brighter smile.

"Welcome home!" I exclaimed. "Hope you're hungry!"

***

At lunch time I sat across from Phoenix and Riley, hearing them chatter animatedly with another basketball player named Sebastian and one of Phoenix's friends, Maren. I took our last few minutes in the cafeteria to draft an email to the book club members about tomorrow's after school book club meeting and rose to my feet when the lunch bell rang.

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