☆Blaze☽
Chapter 28:
I was lying in bed, staring up at the ceiling while blasting “Apologize” by One Republic. Someone once told me it was one of those songs that was good if you only listened to it once a month. I counted today as making up for every once a month I had missed since birth.
“Well, this is depressing as fuck,” Hayden noted from the door. I hadn’t even realized he was standing there. I was too lost inside my own mind.
“Go away,” I muttered to the ceiling. Hayden didn’t move though.
“You’re so done when Mom gets home.” He leaned against the door frame and I rolled my eyes. Because I didn’t already know that. I rolled over onto my stomach to pause the music and faced him.
“Do you think there’s any way to not tell her?”
“One step ahead of you, bro. I checked the voicemail and her email already, both messages have been deleted,” he said happily, even going as far as to flash a smile. I looked at him inquisitively; he knew all too well how to hide things from Mom.
“You seem experienced.”
“What are you talking about? I’m the perfect child.” Hayden held up his hand to make a frame around his face and I snorted. I was the perfect child; the one that Mom and Dad put all their faith into. Key word: was.
“Yeah, can I get that on tape so I can show it to Gemma after your accident is born?”
He threw his head back in frustration and let out a breath. “Why do you all think I’m going to knock up Gemma?”
“Little possible ginger children running around the house.”
“Oh God, soulless ginger children,” he said in mock horror. I laughed.
Hayden cleared his throat to make sure he had my attention and then nodded towards my phone. “You should call him,” he advised.
“Who?”
Hayden gave me an exasperated expression and indicated, “Loverboy.”
“I don’t want to,” I replied somewhat honestly. I didn’t even know what I would say. I had ignored all of his messages up until now, and my worst fear was that he would just show up at my house, forcing us to deal with out problems. I didn’t want to deal with it. I wanted to stay in my room until I could actually hate him for what he did, instead of just pretending to hate him.
‘Yeah, well I don’t want to watch Titanic with Gemma every Friday night, but it gets me laid so I do it anyways.” I cringed at the mention of my brother’s sex life, but either he didn’t notice or he chose to ignore it.
“Oh, God,” I muttered suddenly in realization. Hayden quirked an eyebrow, as if insisting that I go on. I sucked my teeth and then let out a loud laugh. “I’m going to graduate a virgin.”
“Please tell me you’re joking.”
“Okay, Elliot, if you’ve been with that guy for months and he hasn’t forced himself into your pants by now than you better call him, because you’re not going to find another guy like him.”
“Did you not hear what happened?”
“Bits and pieces. You don’t have to tell me.”
Good, I thought, because I’m not going to.
After severally minutes of me ignoring the existence of Hayden, he finally took his leave when I started the music again.
Being suspended wasn’t that bad. I mean, if I had to put it on a list it would probably come before graphing and after needles. Basically all I had to do was lay low all day long, that was of course after dropping Hayden off. I owed him that much for not telling Mom. The guilt was bad, but livable. And I hadn’t turned my phone on since I left the school. I considered just not turning it on because I didn’t want to deal with anyone.
It was on the second day of my suspension though, that I had two visitors. I suppose one wasn’t really a visitor, but unexpected to say the least. I was lying in bed, reading a comic book when I heard the front door open. I was tempted to get up and check but there was always the possibility Mom had come home sick and then I was screwed, so I decided it was safest to stay up here.
When I heard a deep voice, I realized my father must have finally made his monthly appearance back home. However, it was the giggle that followed his voice that perturbed me the most.
Maybe it shouldn’t have come as a shock that Dad was cheating. Really, if he was barely home I shouldn’t have expected he be faithful. Part of me wondered if Mom knew, and that was why she got so upset that time he left near Christmas. Maybe she was just trying to keep the family together for us, that was definitely something she would do. The fact that Spock didn’t bark at the intrusion meant this probably happened regularly.
They never came upstairs, thankfully, but that didn’t insulate me from what was happening on the main floor. I put my earbuds back in to block them out. In a way, I should have been more upset, but I just didn’t have a very close relationship with my family anymore. I blamed myself for that, a lot. I was never particularly close with Dad, because it’s pretty impossible to bond with someone you rarely see. And then there was Mom, and she was fine. She cared, and she did everything mothers should do, but I had managed over the past months to disappoint her. Which consequently led to me avoiding her because of the guilt I felt and it was torrentially downhill from there. The only one I really had was Hayden, which was pretty ironic.
The final day of the suspension, Beatle turned up at my house. I guess I was sort of expecting that as well.
He didn’t try to get my attention from my window, probably because my cell phone was a fairly good indication I didn’t want to talk to him, so he went for the front door. I knew he was here before he knocked on the door though. I could tell by the hum of his car. Maybe that made me crazy, or obsessed; I saw it as attentive.
I put my bowl of cereal down and stared at the door in contemplation. If I didn’t answer, would he go away? Probably not. It was raining, so I decided I would let him stand on my porch a little longer.
After about five minutes, I could no longer handle the incessant knocking. I threw my spoon into the sink and headed to the foyer, but I couldn’t stop myself from checking my appearance in the mirror. I could tell myself a million times that I didn’t care, and that he could go die in a hole, but that didn’t make it any truer.
“Shit,” I muttered to myself at the milk stain down the front of my shirt. I considered changing it, but then I had to remind myself that he wasn’t worth the effort. He had fucked me over.
I tugged the door open while he was mid knock, his palm raised and his body resting against the screen door. He was soaked.
“Hi. Can I come in?”
I drew in a deep breath and summoned all my willpower. “Nope.” If I let him in I would never find it in myself to get him out. I would forgive him and pretend all was okay but it would just eat me alive. Either way, we were doomed, whether we fixed things on this porch or not because I’m spiteful. I would bring it back and throw it in his face because I’m not going to get over it. Not in three days, not in three months, maybe never.
“Elliot, come on. I want to talk.”
“Then talk.” He swallowed and wiped rain from his cheek. My heart ached. I hated myself for not hating him, and hated him for forcing me to hate him. It was convoluting my life.
“I’m sorry,” he said simply, and then searched my face, as if he was looking for any hint that he had fixed things. He was staring at me expectantly, waiting for me to tell him it was okay and jump into his arms. But this wasn’t the movies, and that didn’t actually happen. I was sooner to push him backwards over the porch railing.
“Are you done?”
“No. I want to fix this.” He gestured between us and I shook my head. His shimmering eyes seemed to dull at the action.
“There’s nothing to fix.”
His eyes widened in shock as he took a step towards me, raking his fingers messily through his wet hair. “You don’t mean that,” he said quietly, nearly brokenly.
“Go home, Beatle,” I said with a sigh because I knew I would cave. I could feel it, and unless he left I would forgive him, but he didn’t deserve it. Instead of persisting like I expected him to, he started to back away. And for some reason, it hurt, even though it was what I wanted him to do.
“Don’t act like if the roles were reversed you wouldn’t have done the same thing!” Would I have? Fuck, of course I wouldn’t have. I shook my head.
“I can’t believe you would actually think that!” I yelled back, even though I knew it was just an invitation to continue the argument.
“But it’s true isn’t it? Pristine Elliot? You wouldn’t ruin that for me.” I paused, and he saw it- that moment when I actually had to think about whether I would or not. I knew he had picked up on it. It was that moment that made all the difference.
“If that helps you justify it, go right ahead.” I held my hands out openly as he began to walk away, through the rain. He stopped and stared back at me through the water pellets falling between us.
“God, you’re acting like a killed someone! Get over yourself,” he said, exasperated. It was like he just slapped me, maybe even worse.
“Fuck you.” His green eyes widened instantly, and he started to approach me again. I backed further into the house, closing the door just after hearing his next words seep through.
“Elliot, I didn’t mean that.”
He didn’t hang along much after that. I could hear him swearing to himself outside through the door, and after a few minutes he drove away.
Fuck him. Fuck them all. I was better alone. That was how I started, and it was doing me fine. Maybe I wasn’t as happy, but it sure did wonders on my grades.
This was it, the wakeup call from the fantasy world I believed I was living in. Where you could do anything and not get caught, where you were untouchable. Every day was 420- you could see the illegal things happening but couldn’t stop them. But it wasn’t real. No one could live like this, because everyone makes mistakes. The difference between the mistakes is what matters. For me, a mistake meant possible jail time, but it would have never been like that before. Before, a mistake had meant a mark off a test.
It was then that I decided to revert to who I used to be. To simplify my life in the same way I had excited it. It would be easier, to fall back into my old habits, to regain who I used to be. I couldn’t say who I really was, because I didn’t feel like that was true. The real me wasn’t the loner who got those extraordinary grades, it was what I had settled on being. Now that I had actual friends for once I could never truly be that person again. I didn’t even know what friends I would have left anymore, but anything was better than this. Being stuck in my own reverie and watching it blaze around me.
a/n not much to say, other than that wasn't the end. Dedicated to lazyatlantic for the kickass cover on the side