Chapter Eight - Giving Up
We walk silently and after a moment, Harry begins to swing our arms between us. I look at him, pouting.
"Let me go and stop being cutesy. I'm trying to be mad at you." He laughs, shaking his head. "Don't be mad at me." He suggests, pursing his lips and barely shrugging. "But you were being a jerk." I insist stubbornly. He shakes his head, looking down at me "I was worried about you."
I groan, pulling my hand from his. He stops walking, standing in his place. I look back at him, waiting. "Are you coming or not?" I huff, placing my hands on my hips.
He stares at me, silent. "I'm sorry.." He whispers sincerely. I pause, searching his green eyes that are twinkling in concern and confusion. I barely smile, nodding slightly.
He grins cheekily, rushing forwards to take my hand again. "Diana?" He asks, head tilting to the side curiously. I bite my lip, looking down at our joined hands. "Yeah?" His eyes wander to the ground, his shoes suddenly very interesting.
A blush creeps into his cheeks as he murmurs shyly "Thank you for being my friend.." I pause for a moment, smiling. "Of course, Harry.."
We continue to walk, the humid air seeming to be creeping around us, leaving a claustrophobic feel. I bite my lip in thought.
"Harry, why can't you tell me who or what gives you those injuries?" His smile disappears and he turns to face forward again, shaking his head. My brows furrow and I squeeze his hand
"Please, tell me. I want to help you." I murmur softly. He shakes his head again, setting his jaw. "Diana, I'm not just saying this because I'm out of hope. You really can't help in this situation." He mumbles.
I pause, thinking hard. If he's not gonna tell me, I'm going to figure it out. And I can narrow it down by figuring out where it happens.
"Harry.." I start casually. "Do you think I could come over some time-" He cuts me off immediately, "No." My brows furrow as I look up at him. "Mind if I ask why not?" I ask cautiously.
He looks down at me, eyes wary and face stoic. "My house is a mess. It's embarrassing." He lies smoothly. But I saw the defensive flicker in his eye, revealing that it wasn't the truth.
"Then I'll help you clean up." I retort as I harden my gaze, making it clear I knew he was lying. His eyes narrow slightly. "Maybe I don't want you to help me." He says cooly. "Maybe I don't care." I return slowly, enunciating each word as if explaining to a child.
His voice lowers to a growl "I don't want your help. Diana." I pull my hand free, folding my arms. "You are getting my help. Harry." He glares at me and without hesitation I glare back.
We both stand there, facing each other. My arms are folded firmly over my chest, his arms stiff at his sides. We both stand there in silence. After a moment, I ask quietly "I can't go home with you because it's your dad... Isn't it.."
His stubborn front falters for a moment and my brows furrow. "It is your dad..." I whisper softly. He shakes his head, looking around.
I swallow hard, stepping closer. He closes his eyes and sighs. "Harry.." I mumble "Why didn't you tell anyone...?" I wonder out loud. He shakes his head, eyes still downcast.
"Harry, someone can help you... Tell a teacher. Tell my parents. Tell a cop. Tell anyone. We gotta do something about this!" I insist, cupping his face in my hands. "Because I don't want to get him arrested!" He suddenly bursts.
I sigh, pressing my forehead against his chest. "Why not?" I groan, brows furrowing as my hands slide to his shoulders. "Because. He's my father.. And despite everything he's done, I do love him, Diana." He mumbles defensively.
I sigh, explaining calmly "Harry, I know you can't see your back. You don't know the full extent of what he's done to you. We've gotta get you away from him." He steps away, shouting in frustration "Diana! I don't want to be away from him! Yes, it's true. He isn't exactly number one dad. But he's the only family I have! And staying with him is the least I can do to make up for what I did!" His chest heaves and he pants wildly, staring at me.
I frown slightly, taken aback. "What did you do?" I ask hesitantly, hesitant for the answer. He closes his eyes again, looking down as shame crosses his face.
Then his eyes open again.
They glitter darkly, pain and guilt misting in them. And then there's loathing. Horrible self-loathing. His tortured emerald eyes search my face before looking away.
"I'm going home." He whispers weakly, spinning on his heel and walking down the sidewalk.
"Harry!" I call. "Harry, wait!" I shout as he gets further.
Immediately I run after him. I grab his arm and he immediately shrugs me off. I grab it again, rushing. "Harry, wait a sec. Listen to me. How old are you? Eighteen? You're eighteen, right? Harry, look at me. Listen to me. Harry, if you're eighteen you can move out. Are you listening? We can stop this without him being arrested. Harry, please listen to me. I'm trying to help!"
He turns around, ripping free of my grip. "When will you get it, Diana?! I don't want your help. Are you listening to me?! I. Don't. Want. Your. Help." His eyes briefly search my face, clearly furious.
I swallow hard, honestly a bit scared of the dangerous glimmer in his eye. "Harry, I'm going to help you.." I whimper timidly.
In one long stride he closes the distance, his large hand wrapping around my thin arm. His fingers are so long they double over each other in a tight, unbreakable grasp.
"Listen to me.." He hisses, tightening his grip. I swallow hard, eyes wide as I stare at him. He barely shakes his head and his grip continues to tighten. "I don't want your help. I don't know what you want from me, but whatever it is, give up."
"H-Harry.." I stutter out. He shakes his head again, voice getting softer and more gentle.
But it's not reassuring in any way.
It's the calm before the storm.
I can see the storm already raging in his bright eyes, threatening to burst forth in a fury.
His voice is quiet and almost could pass as kind. "And I swear, Diana. If you tell anyone about my father.. I will make you regret it.." His grip is painfully tight, but he doesn't stop.
My hand flies up to wrap around his as best as I can. "Harry, stop it." I plead, desperation slipping into my voice. He chuckles once without amusement.
"No, Diana. You stop it. Stop trying to 'help' me, stop getting involved with my dad, and stop making me think you're my friend."
I shake my head, insisting with a voice slightly higher in pain "No, no, Harry. It's not acting. I'm your friend. Harry, I'm your friend!"
He tightens his grip impossibly more, and I swear I could feel the strain his vice-like grab was putting on my bones. I cry out softly in pain, eyes huge and locked on his.
"Stop that.. You're not my friend.." He snarls softly, dangerously calm. I nod hurriedly, whimpering under my breath in pain. He continues to keep his eyes locked on mine, and I can feel my eyes burning with tears.
"Harry, let go! You're hurting me!" I yelp frantically, pulling on his grip.
Instantly the storm in his eyes disappears, replaced with concern. He lets go of my arm, pulling me into a hug. His tone reminds me of a panicked mother as he frets over me. "Diana! Your arm! Your arm is hurt!"
I shove him away, stumbling backwards. "You did it to me!" I whimper, holding my arm.
His face is gentle, filled with worried confusion. "Come here, sweetheart. Let me see." He insists.
I shake my head. "Stay away from me." I whisper.
It was like a light switch. One minute he's furious, about to rip my arm off, and less than a second later he's concerned, fussing over me. His face falls in sadness and a childish hurt.
Immediately anger bubbles up inside me. He's gonna pull the wounded baby bird card, when he just tried to break my arm?!
"Go home, Harry!" I yell, cradling my arm to my chest. "I-I'm sorry.." He barely chokes out. I look back down to my arm where I can already see a bruise in the shape of his hand forming. I keep my gaze locked on the tender skin, refusing to look at him.
"Just go home, Harry.." I repeat quietly, sniffing a little. I glance up at him out of the corner of my eye to see him barely nod, turning around as he shoves his hands into his pockets. He slowly begins to walk down the sidewalk and I sigh shakily, turning around and walking the opposite way.
I keep my gaze focused on my feet, resisting the urge to cry. Eventually I reach the big mansion, shuffling up the driveway. I feel a lump grow in my throat as I pause in front of the door, closing my eyes.
A shaky sigh somehow makes it's way past my constricted throat and I take a moment to make sure the tears would stay at bay. Finally, I pull myself together and open the door. But as soon as I see Laura's loving, motherly face, I lose it.
Quiet sobs bubble to my lips and my shoulders begin to shake. Laura's chocolate brown eyes flit up to meet mine, and in one fluid movement, she's on her feet, face crumpled in concern.
"I c-can't d-do this, Laura! H-He's impossible!" I whimper, shuffling forwards to her. She pulls me into her chest, hugging me gently.
She hums a soft tune in my ear, rocking back and forth. I sob into her shirt, my arm throbbing painfully.
"What happened, love?" She coos, brushing a stray golden ringlet behind my ear. My shoulders shake harder and I hiccup between the strangled sobs "He h-hurt m-me!" She quickly scans me over, eyes landing on my arm.
A soft gasp escapes her and she frowns, taking my hand and leading me to the living room where she sits me down on a dull bluish grey futon.
I pick up the white pillow, hugging it to my chest, knotting my fingers through the tassels along the edges. She walks into the kitchen and I bow my head to hide my face in the pillow, ignoring the cramp in my neck from the awkward position.
She walks back in with an icepack and gently takes my hand, lying it on the back of the couch so my arm is outstretched.
She rests the icepack on my arm, which I now see is beginning to swell, a dark black and blue. She sighs and rubs my shoulder.
"Don't give up, Julia.. I know, it can be tough. Take a break if you need to. Just don't give up on Harry.."