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Saturday, October 12th
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Ambrose's face morphs from curiosity to horror. His eyes are completely wide and staring at me back in shock. I see his lips moving like he's stammering to say words.
"I was afraid to admit it to anyone and I've only told Varushka, so please don't mention it to anyone," I rush my words out.
He shakes his head and his hands immediately fly towards my own. He brings me to sit down next to him and I do so automatically.
I would never do such a thing.
He narrows his eyes and runs a hand through his hair.
When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me?
I fidget with my hands out of nervousness and I avoid his gaze. It felt so humiliating talking about this. I thought it would feel like a relief, a weight being lifted from my shoulders, but instead I feel like I'm asking for attention and filled with so much anxiety. I felt like I was being judged and blamed. How do other girls like me go through this kind of stuff? How do they cope with this stuff?
I try to ignore it and move on from it, but I keep flinching at other's movements and squirm under men's gazes. When I do think about it, I feel like I'm swallowed up by a sinking hole and it feels agonizing.
"Friday night after the game," I say in a low voice, "I froze. I didn't fight him when he came on top. He was right."
Ambrose places a hand under my chin and forces me to look at him. His eyes are filled with worry and concern.
It is not your fault. It will never be your fault.
My lips quiver at his words. Ethan said that it was my fault and I couldn't stop being angry at myself because he was right. I only said to stop at the beginning and not during. That would be his defense if I were to take him to court.
Who's to say that I'll even win. Most of the time, the victims tend to lose and their attacker always walks away free. The jury would say that it wasn't rape because he was my boyfriend and because I was a virgin at the time, that I was just regretting it and cried wolf.
"I can't report him. He's going to get away with it," I say, shaking my head.
You won't know if you don't try.
I would have to tell my story over and over to different people. How many times can I tell my story until it sounds like it was all made up.
I don't get how a girl like you dates a piece of shit guy like that?
Girls like me don't see it at first even though the warnings were blaring like sirens. Like a blindfold over our eyes prevented us from seeing what was wrong and what was right.
They call it the 'Honeymoon Phase' where everything in the beginning feels like the best days of your lives as if they were your one true soulmate. Where both people lovebomb each other and prove that they will always be your person. Where nothing feels like anything could go wrong and the affection and love is at an all time high. I didn't want to say that though.
The 'Honeymoon Phase' was over and I was in the 'Nightmare Phase' where shit was going wrong and we would argue like a married couple wanting to go through a divorce. Everything was irritating and a small thing could set off an argument. It made sense.
"Tiffany was the one who introduced us," I say, "I first met him at my softball games. He was dating a girl named Helen. She was his favorite, I could tell. I should've known that we wouldn't work out when I found out that his dating history included only blonde girls."
Ethan didn't even know my name, he would always get it wrong. He would call me Evelyn, Eve, Ellen, and other times Eleanor. It wasn't until Tiffany formally introduced us that he finally got my name right.
The only reason why he remembered was because Tiffany had told him all about me and where I stood in the social hierarchy. He had already broken up with Helen and he was already looking for his next piece—me. He wanted something that shared the same space and status as him. No one else interested him, not a freshman, not some random girl in his class, but someone that had both parents present and came from money.
I think it was because he knew that he didn't have to spend money on me if I came from a background of money. He didn't have to put too much effort into anything because I could always just buy it myself or get my dad to buy it for me.
"The first red flag was the fact that he got my name wrong every time and the second red flag was that our first date was at a party where he got into a fight with some guy from a different school," I say, remembering the events of that night.
I was extremely nervous about going out with Ethan Myers. Tiffany had hyped me up an hour prior to Ethan picking me up. She made me dress up nicely and gave me words of encouragement until I found out where we were actually going.
I had been told that we were supposed to go to a nice restaurant for dinner and then do something afterwards, but Ethan surprised me with a house party instead. I don't remember the guy's name, but he had said some snarky comments about me and that set Ethan off.
I had never seen him be so violent towards someone that he didn't know. It should've sounded an alarm in my head, but I thought he was doing it because he absolutely cared about me. He only felt disrespected and didn't want someone to dent his ego, so he took his insecurities out onto someone else.
After the fight, it was up to me to clean the blood off of his hands. He dropped me off at home without another word mentioning about what had occurred.
"I think he asked me to be his girlfriend the following day, but I wasn't too sure about him so I told him no. That must've hurt his ego because after that day he would follow me and try to persuade me to say yes," I say, "He's never been rejected before."
He's not a real man, Evangeline. He's a piece of shit.
He would send his friends to talk to me like we were back in the third grade. He would stick notes in my locker saying that I would be his. I eventually gave in one night when Ethan came to my house to ask to speak to my dad.
He had asked my dad for permission if he could ask me to be his girlfriend. I thought it was a bright move at the time. I mean I cared about my dad's opinions and I wanted him to approve of the people that were in my life. I wanted to make sure that my dad liked Ethan and that was the reason why I said yes in the first place.
I should've also paid attention to the comments he made on other girls. The way he would compare them to me. Sometimes they were small comments and other times full blown comparisons like he wanted me to change something about myself.
'I'm glad you're not as skinny as her because she's all bones and no meat' 'Cakey makeup like that wouldn't suit you' 'Have you ever thought of going a blonde shade like hers?' 'Don't ever do any hard workouts or you'll look too manly'
I ignored them because it wasn't a big deal to me. I thought most guys had thought of stuff like that and never really said them out loud like Ethan. I just learned to keep myself busy and pretend like he never said those things to me. Taking on many advanced classes as I could, joining as many clubs possible, and even going after the class president position.
All too look good when applying for schools and to make Ethan proud when I have to meet his parents. The reason why I haven't met them yet was all entirely up to Ethan. He always said that his parents were always traveling and out doing their jobs. I've only seen his parents through pictures and learned about them through Ethan's complaints.
What would his parents even say when they learn about what Ethan has been up to? Would they even care? Or just try to brush this under a rug and turn their noses at his actions?
Ambrose gets up from my bed and paces around the room. He notices the flowers from last night that Ethan gave me. They laid in the same place that I had left them. I didn't bother to put them in water because they were just going to wither and die, just like Ethan's affections.
Did he give you those?
I hesitantly nod.
And the jewelry?
He picks up the necklace and ring. Observing them in the light like he was judging the choice of design. He plays with the ring and then sets them back onto the desk.
I'm convinced he doesn't really know you. Not the things you really like anyways
"You believe you know me more than he does?" I ask, trying to keep the surprised look on my face from appearing.
I think I've known more about you in one hour for an art project than he did for the entire year of your relationship. Does he even know that pink isn't your favorite color?
My eyes round at his statement. I had forgotten that Ambrose knew these small details about me when he was asking all of these questions that night. I hate to admit it, but he was right. "I don't know much about you, Ambrose. You make it hard to know things about you. Like you're protecting something."
You can ask me whatever when I get cleaned up. Can I shower?
I nod. "I'll go find you some clothes. You can find extra stuff in the bottom cabinets."
He nods and heads into the bathroom. I venture out of my room and head towards Josh's. I think they're about the same size so it wouldn't be a struggle to find something for Ambrose to wear.
I knock on Josh's door. "Come in," he says.
Josh is sitting on his bed when I open the door. He's messing around with his guitar and scribbling stuff down on his notebook.
"Hey, can I borrow some clothes from you?"
He looks up with a raised eyebrow and stares at me, confused. "What for?" He asks cautiously.
"Is that a yes or a no?" I ask.
He sighs, knowing that he has to comply with his older sister's requests. He nods over to his dresser and I smile at him. I dig through the top drawer and I find a random black shirt and a pair of sweats.
I grab some extra essentials that Josh won't miss and neatly put them on a pile within my hands. Just as I walk back inside my room, the bathroom door opens and Ambrose walks out with a towel around his waist and stands in the middle of my room.
I do my best to not gawk at him and drop all the stuff I had on my hands.
"I-I brought you some-some stuff," I stammer.
Ambrose was still wet from his shower. His hair was drenched as water droplets fell onto his skin and rolled down his chest and over the ridges of his muscular torso. It didn't take long for me to find the scars over his body that were hidden under his clothes.
There were so many.
Some were pale and ghostly looking, others were dark like they had probably hurt more from how deep the wound must've been, and others were in the healing process. I didn't want to ask but I wanted to know if he had inflicted those upon himself or if someone had done them.
He clears his throat and I extend my hands out for him to take the items from my hands.
"I'll let you change here. I'll be right back," I say.
I close the door behind me and I head downstairs to the kitchen to find Varushka. I saw that the sliding glass door was open and both siblings were outside by the pool. They were sitting on the lawn chairs, talking quietly with each other.
"I have to leave soon," I hear Roman say.
"You have to get out. He's going to get you killed," Varushka says.
"If I stay, I get killed. If I leave, I get killed. I'm dead no matter what," Roman says, "He's on the verge of losing his supplier and once he does, he'll be looking for more people to do his dirty work. He wants to own more territory and the territory he wants is taken over by other enemies."
Enemies? Territory? Is Roman in some kind of gang?
"Go back home, Roman. I already lost mama because otets was selfish. I can't lose you Roman, and you can't lose your mama too," Varushka says, "Dimitri will be the reason you lose people in the end. I'm telling you as your older sister." (Translation: Mom; Father)
I let both of them talk alone as I ascend the stairs to my room. I don't think the conversation was for me to hear. I knock on my door and Ambrose answers fully dressed.
Thank you
"Don't mention it. I do have some other questions though."
Ambrose nods and he sits on my bed. He gently pats the space beside him, inviting me to sit next to him. I walk over and sit myself a good distance from him. I could smell my strawberry body wash on him and I had to push the distractions away and focus on the questions I was dying to ask and get answers to.
"Why did Sandra say that you were trying to kill yourself on the night of homecoming?" I ask, surprising myself at starting the interrogation very strongly.
I wasn't trying to kill myself.
"She was lying?"
Yes, just that one time though.
"If I ask you how many attempts you've done, would you lie about the number?"
He shrugs, not meeting my eyes.
I never attempted to do anything here. I lost count when I was in Texas.
"Does that have anything to do with you moving here?"
He nods. Among other things. What I can say is that my parents had enough of me acting up. They got tired of me coming home drunk or high, sometimes both. They got tired of the people I would hang out with and all of the parties I would go to, just to forget.
"Forget about what?"
Something flashes in his eyes and I feel like I'm getting close to uncovering something. It's like he's remembering something but he remains silent.
"Forget about what, Ambrose?" I ask again.
Forget what I said.
And there he goes again. Silent.
"When's your birthday?" I randomly ask.
He looks at me weirdly, but still answers.
October 30.
"Devil's Night. Are you always up to no good on your birthday?"
He smirks, already forgetting what we were talking about earlier.
I have a few scars from those nights. I like to raise a little hell every now and then. This year will be different.
"How much hell can you actually raise?"
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Monday, October 14th
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I sat with Aurora again at lunch today. This time it was just the two of us. Her ballet friends were doing overtime practice at the dance room today and it only included those that were on the Swan Lake dance. I could tell that Aurora was bothered by it. Mr. Vince had taken her opportunity away from her because of something that wasn't her fault.
I look up to see Ambrose stride into the cafeteria and he meets my eyes immediately. He gives me a small smile and then his gaze searches for something else. I see that he's looking at the table where Ethan is sitting at. He's surrounded by his friends and Ambrose gives me one last glance before he makes a beeline towards Ethan.
I stand up from my chair and watch as his eyes look at Ethan like he was his target. I didn't like where this was going. Ambrose's fists clench and he grabs Ethan by the shoulder, getting his attention.
I get close enough to see what's going on and hear Ethan. "What the fuck you want freak?"
A ripple of chuckles erupt from the table and I'm about to say something when Ambrose's fist flies towards Ethan's face. I can hear it colliding against Ethan's cheekbone with a sickening crunch.
The table sits still and quiet as they watch the scene unfold. Ambrose doesn't stop when Ethan goes down. I stand there in shock as Ambrose gets on top of Ethan and continues to throw his fists towards Ethan's face.
"Ambrose," I hear myself say but the loudness of the cafeteria didn't reach Ambrose's ears.
People were cheering him on and others were yelling at Ethan to get up.
The floors were beginning to be covered in blood that gushed from Ethan's nose. Ethan wasn't really trying to defend himself and he just laid there, taking all of the hits. Ambrose had one hand gripping onto Ethan's shirt and the other just beating down on Ethan's face.
I see the security guards burst through the cafeteria doors as they rush towards Ambrose. They pull him off and Ethan is pulled away by his friends. Ethan's face was bloody, he spits out the blood and smirks.
At Hollow Grove Academy. Fighting puts you onto the list of possible expulsions. Ethan knows that if he were to fight back, he would also be expelled, but because he took the beating, only Ambrose would be in that risk. Ethan wouldn't lose his varsity placement on the team or his potential scholarships and the stairway to the NFL contracts that easily.
"The fuck happened?" Tiffany asks me, her voice laced with worry.
I watch as the guards whisk away Ambrose and escort him to Mr. Vince's office. Ethan's friends help him up, asking if he was alright.
"I don't know," I mutter.
Ambrose was unpredictable. I guess a part of me really liked that he was like that. He was his own person and did things without anyone telling him to.
"Well you better get your neighbor a reality check cause he can't just go doing shit like that," Tiffany says, raising her voice at me.
I look at her and then I glare at her. "At least he doesn't go around and meddles into other people's relationships."
I left without letting her utter another word and made my way to the office. I would do whatever I could to prevent Ambrose from getting expelled.
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A/N: I was actually able to write this chapter thinking that I wasn't going to have time. Well there it is!
I think there's a lot more explantation now without having a whole info bomb dropped on you guys. Ambrose's lore will be in the upcoming chapters. I just want their relationship to marinate a bit more before going off.
Obviously we know pieces because of his POV but we will get to the other stuff soon.
I hope the slowburn isn't too slow, I know we're already 20 chapters in and by now most books have the couples already "together" but bear with me 😏
I was planning on having this book reach about 40-45 chapters but it all depends on how much patience I have for planning out the chapters and stuff lmao
For now I'll be trying to reach the 40 chapter mark, so in that case I guess we're halfway through (OMG)
Lastly I want to say thank you all so much for 500 reads :))))) I am so happy many of you are enjoying the book so far and those that are commenting for pushing my book and giving me motivation to continue writing this book <3
- N ♡