It was the Saturday after Colson's birthday. A few of his football teammates, and two of my Yearbook peers, him, and I had the same Calculus class. So, we were all at a local café studying (more like dying) for our test on Monday.
I take a sip of my iced matcha green tea latte and Cole rips off a piece of his ham and cheese croissant and looks at me, silently asking if I want the piece. I shake my head. He looks at me with a knowing look and I take the piece he ripped off and pop it in my mouth before he can say anything. When I finished the piece, I look at him and he looks pleased.
"Lovebirds!" Willow, a girl from my Yearbook class calls out, breaking me and Cole from our trance.
"Yeah?" I respond.
"This is precious studying time and you can't ruin it by making lovey dovey looks at each other every five minutes. Do you want a C on this test because you were too busy flirting to actually retain any information?" Willow says.
"Hey, I'd take a C if it meant having someone look at me the way they look at each other," Liam, a guy from Cole's football team said.
Hannah, another girl I'm in Yearbook with shoots a grape at Liam. "Hi, your girlfriend is sitting right here."
"Oh yeah, how are you babe?" Liam asks, playing around. Hannah just rolls her eyes.
Willow hands her copy of the study guide to Brady, a guy on the football team. "Here, ask someone at the group a question," she says to him.
"Lilianna, The edge of a cube is increasing at a rate of 8 cm/s. What is the rate of increase of its volume when the edge is 6 cm long? A. 512 cm³ /s? B. 864 cm³ /s? C. 24 cm³ /s? D. 216 cm³ /s?" Brady asks me.
I do the math in my head. For what it's worth, I have been pretty good at calculus so far. Not that I like it. Trust me, I despise it, and all things math related for that matter. Well, except I do love adding up all the kisses Cole gives me. It makes a girl feel wanted.
"B. 864 cm³ /s," I respond confidently.
Brady whistles and hands the paper to me. "You're good at this shit, Welt."
"Damn right she is," Cole butts in. Then he gives me a chaste kiss. "Your reward for getting the answer right," he whispers.
I decide then and there that this is my favorite way to study. With Cole by my side, a coffee in my hands, surrounded by friends in a cute café, and getting sweet kisses from Cole for every question I get right.
*******
When we finish up studying at the café a little after four-thirty p.m., Cole and I hop in my car and head home. We decided to carpool on the way over, because well, we live next door to each other and why waste the gas?
"You're cute when you're studying," Cole says, as I pull out of the parking lot at the café which is only ten or so minutes from our house.
"You think I'm cute no matter what I'm doing," I retort.
"No-"
"Ouch, that hurt, Cole."
"Good God, woman. Would you let me finish?" he jokes.
"You may proceed with your statement," I say.
"Ooh, when did you get so proper?"
"If I wasn't driving right now just know I would've punched your arm for that," I say, rolling my eyes at him.
"What I was saying before you cut me off," he glares at me, "was that sometimes you're cute, sometimes you're stunning, sometimes you're hot, sometimes you're adorable, but you're always beautiful. Always."
And damn, if my heart didn't flutter at that.
"You have a way with words, Mr. Miller," I say, half joking, half not. Everything he's ever said to me has always made me feel like I was someone. Like when I threw up in the bathroom at that party earlier this year, he calmed me down with just his words. He awes me with them; I adore him for it.
He laughs at me and says,"I guess Ms. Proper is back."
He's such a jokester, that boy.
I roll my eyes. "In all seriousness though, I think my love language is words of affection," I tell him. "I think it might be why you can make me feel so many things with just your words. It's like your words soothe me," I say when I'm stopped at a red light.
He leans over the console in my car and kisses my cheek before I have to start driving again.
"I love you, Lil."
"I love you too."
Cole groans as we get closer to our street.
"What's wrong?" I ask.
"I have to go have dinner with my aunt and uncle," he reminds me
I remember him saying something about having to meet his aunt and uncle, who move around constantly, for dinner at some fancy Italian restaurant in the area around six o' clock. Last I heard, his mom's little sister and her husband were living in Brazil. Apparently they're extremely restless, and that's why they don't ever want to settle down.
"What's so bad about that?" I wonder aloud.
"I haven't seen them since I was like five."
"So? That was what? Twelve years ago?"
"Yeah, but it's not only that. They haven't even tried to reach out to me, and it hurts, Lil," he tells me in all honesty.
I want to hug him. But I can't because I'm driving, and I don't want to kill us.
"I get that," I really do. "I know it's hard when family members don't bother to call you and then they wonder why we don't want to see them." I still feel the same way. When my Dad left my Mom, my Dad's side of the family never contacted me once. Not a text. A call. A letter. Nothing. It's like they pretended I didn't exist.
It hurt at first, but then I realized that regardless of what was going on with my parents, they shouldn't have put me in the middle and just stop talking to me all together. If they truly loved and cared about me, they would've looked past what was happening with my parents, and still tried connecting with me. But no, they froze me out. Probably because I wanted to stay with my Mom. Not that I will ever know. Nor do I want to.
But, I know Cole's situation is different.
I pull my car into the two car garage and notice my Mom's car is parked too. She must have gotten back from shopping with Cole's mom. When I turn off the engine, I turn to Cole and take his jaw in my hand, and turn his face to mine.
"Cole, they love you. From what I hear, your aunt and her husband have never been family people. They love traveling the world, and who can blame them? If I could, I would do what they do. Be in one city with you for a week, and another the next. I know it's hard, but they never meant to hurt you. Maybe let them know how you feel and you'll see a change in their behavior. But just know that whatever happens, you'll always have me."
Then I pull his jaw a little closer to me and kiss his stupid, gorgeous face silly. He smiles against my lips and runs his hands through my long, silky, brown hair.
I pull away from him and say, "Do you promise to make nice at dinner?"
"Hmm..." he says, faking contemplation. "I promise... if you give me more kisses."
I smile and roll my eyes and give him a few more quick kisses before he has to go get ready for dinner.
"I love you, Cole," I say, before he gets out of my car.
"I love you too, pretty girl," he replies and gets out of the car, but not before giving me a forehead kiss.
I get out of my white convertible and close the garage with the switch by the door that leads from the garage to the main house.
"Hi, Lily!" my Mom shouts from the kitchen.
I slip my Converse Chuck's off my feet and put my purse on the purse and coat rack we have by the door to the garage. "Hi, Mom."
I walk into the kitchen and sit down on a barstool.
"How did studying go?" she asks.
"It went well. I'm feeling pretty confident for this test."
My Mom comes to give me a hug. "That's great," she smiles.
"What are you making for dinner?"
"I have the oven heating up. I was thinking of salmon with green beans and salad. Is that okay?" she says.
"Sounds good."
"I just started heating up the oven when I heard the garage door close, and then of course the fish has to cook, so it might be awhile," she informs me. "Why don't you go get the mail? I forgot to get it when I came back from shopping with Jane," my mom asked.
"Sure," I replied, getting the mailbox key off the hook where it was hanging. I slip my flip flops on and went out the front door. I turned around to close the cherry wood colored front door with a fiberglass slab down the middle.
I turn my head for one second, and then I hear his voice. Like bloody murder screams you hear in a nightmare, I hear his voice.
"Lilianna, how nice to see you."
What?
I turned my head.
My dad. Standing in the driveway.
I hate referring to him as my dad. I hate it. I believe that being called a father is a title. In the same way being called a king or a queen is. Being a parent is a job. Getting to be called "Mom" or "Dad" is a blessing.
Some biological parents do not deserve that title. You have to earn it.
"What are you doing here?" I question in a shaky, sour, spiteful voice.
He rolled his eyes at my tone as if I was being dramatic. "I am here to talk to you, actually."
I bite my tongue and shake my head. "There is nothing to talk about." And there wasn't. He already told me he bought a house in the area. He already told me he wanted to catch up with me.
I don't want to visit his house. I don't even want to see it. I don't care to know if he's dating anyone. I don't want to know if he knocked some chic up and I have a half sibling. I don't want to be a part of his life by any means. He needs to respect that.
But he won't. My father doesn't respect anyone. He is a selfish slob who doesn't do anything unless it benefits him. He doesn't care what lives he ruins, or who he hurts in his fiery blazing trail. As long as he comes out on top, nothing matters.
"Lily-"
"Do not call me "Lily." Only my family members get to call me that," I cut him off, my tone laced with bitterness.
"But Lily," he makes a move to come closer to the porch on which I stand. "We are family."
"No we are most certainly not. I don't care what DNA has to say, you are the farthest thing from a father," I breathe out. I'm starting to get angry. I hope he notices and backs off.
Will he?
Probably not.
Before he can say anything else, I speak again. "Now get off this property before I call the cops on you and tell them you are trespassing and going against a legal restraining order."
He doesn't say anything, so I hop off the porch and make a beeline for the mailbox, ignoring him. Right when I pass him in the driveway, he grabs my shoulder and turns me toward him.
He gives me a slow, sinister smile and spits out, "That restraining order only lasted five years. It's expired, my sweet daughter."
What?
No.
That can't be.
He's lying.
He has to be lying.
I start trying to wiggle away from him, but he's gripping me too tight.
I really should take a self defense class one of these days.
"You're lying."
"I'm not," he grits out, still holding me down. "And even if I was, Lilianna, how would you know? Were you in the courtroom?"
He starts to move his hands to my neck and I shake my head, trying to let out a scream, but nothing comes out.
"That's what I thought," he says, as he chokes me, looking like an evil villain.
With the little air left in my lungs, I try to scream as loud as I can, "Let me go!"
He lets go of my neck and for a second I think I'm in the clear. That was what I thought, right before he punches me, with both hands, closed fisted in the head.
I stumble back and he kicks my ankles, making me fall to the floor. My head hits the floor and I think he punches and kicks me some more, but I don't know. Oh, I don't know.
He hit me.
I screamed.
He hit me.
I screamed.
He hit me.
After every abusive act. After everything he put me through. After years of hell. After every mediation session. After countless court dates. After trial. After years of therapy. After nightmares. After talking to cops. After talking to Child Protective Services workers. After everything, I never saw myself being put in this situation again. Ever.
He showed up at school a few weeks ago. I thought that was it. I thought he would leave me alone. How naîve of me. Just when I thought it was over, when I thought I was clean. I realized it had just begun.
I must have frozen for a few seconds.
Was it only a few seconds?
My mind went blank.
My vision went black.
Am I on the concrete?
Why am I sitting on the floor?
How did I end up on the floor?
Wake up, Lilianna!
Snap out of it!
I tried remembering what happened, but the memory was fuzzy. All I know is...
He hit me.
I screamed.
I think someone came to rescue me. I'm not sure. I think I heard my Mom's voice. Maybe it was an angel's.
"Lilianna, sweetie what happened?" a female voice asked in a rushed, worried tone.
Why does my head hurt?
Why am I laying on my back?
Is that a bump I feel forming on the back of my head?
Nothing makes sense.
Why doesn't anything make sense?
I whispered the only words I could articulate. The one's I had been reciting in my head.
"He hit me. I screamed."
Then I think I shut down.
Who am I to know, though?
author's note!
word count: 2,530
oops... i did it again!
alright so... happy may..? does that sound bad coming from someone who hasn't updated since february? speaking of which, i am sorry for that, but i really needed the time off to focus on myself and deal with some stuff.
i hope everyone is doing well! and if you ever need anything, do not hesitate to reach out. i know i wasn't posting chapters, but i did log on to wattpad every week and looked at all the comments, dm's, and love, and i responded to a lot of you.
i happen to be more active on tiktok and instagram than i do here on wattpad (i'm trying to be more active!) both of my usernames are @katiesreadz (links in bio!)
if you missed it last time, I made instagram's for our babies lilianna and colson!
lilianna's- @liliannawelt
colson's- @colsonkanemiller
alright, alright. now... how excited are y'all to have the summer i turned pretty tv show released on june 17th?! AND THIS LOVE (TAYLOR'S VERSION) IS GOING TO BE IN THE SHOW. totally fangirling over here and i do not care.
if you haven't read the summer i turned pretty trilogy or listened to this love (taylor's version) yet, consider this me peer pressuring you to!
that's it for now, thank you for all the milestones we hit while I was away. i love each and every single one of you to the moon and to saturn (folklore stans rise)
xoxo,
katie <3