♥ Dedicated to Platypus1987 for figuring out what the song in the chapter titled Running Away meant :) Also, the graphic on the side bar was made courtesy to her ♥
Chapter Sixteen –Tough But Shattered Armor
Liam
It was nearly midnight when I pulled up to the curb of Anya’s house and keyed the ignition. There were many scenarios that plagued my thoughts, while I drove down the familiar path to our neighborhood, of what actions Mr. Vanchester would make once he saw that I was the one who had kept his daughter out well into the night.
I expected Mr. Vanchester to march outside in a heat of anger once he heard the roar of my engine coming down the street. Or I expected him to lie in wait, hidden behind one of the many strawberry bushes that aligned their garden with a taser in hand. Whatever the scenario, nothing – and I mean absolutely nothing – could have prepared me for what awaited us.
Anya gasped and hopped of the bike, her hand running through her hair as she muttered, “I can’t believe they did this.”
My eyes flickered to the police cruiser that was parked on the driveway.
“Well,” I said. “Guess being castrated is the least of my problems. Being hauled off to jail is way worse. Handsome guys like me don’t fare well in prison.”
Anya turned on her heels, and eyed me incredulously. “You don’t actually think that…do you?”
I chuckled, bounding off my bike. Anya continued to stare at me dumbfounded, seeming to ask in the dark brown of her eyes if I wanted a death sentence, which is what I would get when we walked through the door together. There was nothing humorous about the situation, except for the worry lines that creased her forehead as her brows furrowed.
The smile that formed on my lips was of its own volition. There was something about Anya worrying about me that caused my mind to wonder if she felt the way I was beginning to feel about her.
I closed the gap that separated us, and stood in front of her. Anya didn’t even bother to look at me, her eyes solely trained on the ground. I titled her chin, willing her to meet my gaze. When she did her eyes were two small brown pools with tears brimming on the edges, ready to spill any minute.
“Anya?”
“You don’t know,” she said, swallowing back the lump in her throat. “I can’t face them. I don’t know what I’ll say.”
My brows furrowed as I realized that she wasn’t only talking about our outing, but something else altogether. I wondered if it was the reason that she wanted to get away for a few hours – to forget. And it had worked – the forgetting – but now those feelings were resurfacing, and there was no more room to run any longer.
She needed to face it, but by the tears and reluctance perceptible in her eyes – she didn’t want to.
I moved my hand from her chin and rested it on her shoulder. With a fist she wiped at the tears that silently fell on her cheeks. It was then – seeing the obvious conflict on her face – that I wanted to ask her what was going on because it wasn’t a small pebble that had cracked her reality, but a huge boulder.
But I didn’t ask. Instead I said, “You don’t have to do this alone,” and offered my hand for her to take.
She slipped her hand into mine and we walked up the driveway, where the living room lights flicked on at the sound of our footsteps on the paved granite stones. Anya took out her keys and unlocked the door, sighing before she opened it to the empty foyer.
The emptiness didn’t last for long as Mr. and Mrs. Vanchester marched into the living room, their worried faces dissipating as they saw their daughter. A second later Mr. Weatherly (still dressed in his chief uniform) and Gemma stepped into the foyer. Gemma’s arms were crossed over her chest and had a look of utter betrayal written on her face as her eyes flickered to Anya and then me.
“Where have you been?” Mr. Vanchester demanded. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”
“Sorry. Lost track of time,” she said detached.
Mr. Vanchester’s eyebrows rose at the tone of her voice and stepped forward, only to be stopped by Mrs. Vanchester’s hand on his shoulder. “Phillip.” There was a quiet exchange between the two as Anya dropped her bag by the door and began to sign with Gemma, her hands rapidly moving as her mood darkened and became exasperated with each passing minute.
I had no idea what they could possibly be talking about, but futile glances were thrown my way by both parties that I could only guess they were talking about me. I stood awkwardly by the door, watching the display before me. All three adults had huddled together and were talking in low whispers that were inaudible from where I stood, leaning back on the wooden front door. They glanced ever so often at the girls as they continued on with their silent conversation.
By Anya’s blazing eyes and Gemma’s tight mouth – I knew without a doubt that they were fighting. The atmosphere grew stifling that I was sweating under my leather jacket. Gemma kept eyeing me with a cold, disdainful look that I physically cringed.
There’s nothing worse than a woman’s scorn.
I swallowed, my father’s voice reverberating through my head. He was right, at least, that logic was right. I couldn’t figure out what I’d done to Gemma. Last time I’d seen and talked to her (well you couldn’t really call it talking) was when Anya had fainted at school last week. She seemed perfectly fine then, and didn’t know what was causing the open animosity thrown my way.
“That’s enough,” Mr. Weatherly said and signed, his voice breaking through my reverie. His hands were on his belt, giving both girls a hard look that was intimidating. It was a look that I had come to know very well when he’d busted Collin and me breaking into private property a few months before, landing us both with forty hours of community service. They flinched under his penetrating gaze, clasping their lips shut and eyeing the badge under his right breast pocket. “Apologize to each other. Now.”
Neither Gemma nor Anya made a move to be the first to apologize. Anya’s eyes were hardened with unrelenting anger, while Gemma’s brown eyes held a twinge of chagrin and anger that mirrored Anya’s. Mr. and Mrs. Vanchester looked flabbergasted at the sight of their daughter’s crude behavior.
“Anya,” Mrs. Vanchester said softly. “Apologize. It’s not her fault that she feels you…” she paused, her eyes sweeping through the room and lastly settled on me, a small frown forming on her mouth.
“She should understand,” was all Anya said, her gaze unwavering from Gemma’s.
Gemma’s shoulders sagged in defeat and weary she signed something that made Anya’s rigid, straight back relaxed. The next moment they were hugging much to my confusion. Mr. Weatherly looked pleased, and signed something to his daughter. She nodded and they both began to make their way towards the door. I stepped aside, but not before Gemma signed something to me, her eyes soft unlike the contempt that had previously been reserved for me.
No one bothered to translate for me, but I knew that she was offering an apology. I slightly nodded my head in recognition and she smiled. They left a moment after, Gemma waving goodbye and Mr. Weatherly saying, “You all have a good night.”
When the door shut behind them I felt like there had been a cloak removed from the room, and with the tension had been unveiled in full force. Mr. and Mrs. Vanchester cautiously walked towards their daughter, but she stepped away from them and bumped her hip into the side table, sending a vase crashing to the floor.
“Dammit,” she muttered leaning down as she rubbed at the pain on hip. Striding forward, I crouched down and helped her pick up the shattered glass pieces. Mrs. Vanchester left the room to grab a broom and dustpan; at least, that’s what I thought she’d said –while Mr. Vanchester thanked me for bringing his daughter home. I was more or less taken aback. What did I expect? I’ll tell you what – I definitely did not imagine Mr. Vanchester thanking me for bringing his daughter home at midnight. Something was majorly wrong with this picture, don’t you think?
With the pieces picked up and discarded into the black trash bag Mrs. Vanchester held, I began to take my leave. Anya led me to the door as her parents went into the leaving room, giving us a few minutes to ourselves.
“I’m sorry you had to see that. It’s just everything is…”
“Complicated?” I offered.
She nodded, opening the door open for me. She nibbled at the corner of her lip, uncertainty swirling in her eyes like a dark muddled storm. “I’ll…explain…tomorrow.”
The difficulty it took for her to say those words were evident by the way she wouldn’t met my gaze. I leaned forward – like I had before, but this time I didn’t tilt her chin. Instead, I leaned forward and gently kissed her forehead, caressing the side of her face with my hand.
“I’ll hold you to it.”
Anya
The moment Liam left was when my parents began to demand where I’d been. I just listened, perched on the edge of the sofa, while Dad read me the Riot Act – something I’ve never been privy too because I was a good kid. This was my first offense. Ever.
“Why should I tell you anything?” I asked through gritted teeth. “It’s not like you guys were going to tell me I was adopted. Plus, you said I could do whatever I wanted with my time. A little teenage rebellion didn’t hurt anyone.”
I know I was being a petulant child, but I couldn’t help the resentment I felt towards the both of them. What right did they have asking me questions when they weren’t answering the one question I wanted to know? It was like everything I said went over their heads without a second glance. They didn’t care what I said; Dad just continued to prattle on about responsibility and some other things that I tuned out.
My mind wandered to the events that transpired earlier this evening. I wasn’t entirely sure what to think about Liam, except that he only cared about me as a friend and nothing more. He kissing me on the forehead was proof enough. It was a sign of implicit affection – like when I petted Mr. Cuddles and he purred in perfect bliss. Except, of course, I didn’t purr that would just be strange.
I had made two mistakes tonight. The first had been allowing myself to feel more than I ought to for Liam. It was a hopeless cause to even think that he would like me. Even if he did like me, he would just go to another girl once he got tired of me. Isn’t that the kind of thing he did? Wasn’t Karla a prime example? I don’t know about her, but I certainly would not want to be publically humiliated if he dumped me as he had her.
The second mistake I had made was fight with Gemma. She had every right to be hurt by my betrayal – or at least, what she thought was a betrayal. I put myself in her shoes, and saw that I would be just as angry at her if she did what I had. I shouldn’t have ignored her calls – that was the least I could have done. She was worried as were my parents about my whereabouts. But her worry soon turned to anger when she saw who I’d been with all evening.
“So, he comes back into your life and you decide to ditch your friends?”
“You know that’s not true. He has nothing to do with why I-?
“Then what is it? What is it that you couldn’t even tell me – your best friend, Anya? You know you can tell me anything, yet you go off to God knows where with Liam! Do you not trust me? Do you trust him more than me, is that it? Because if it is; tell me now.”
“That’s not it at all. You know you are really starting to piss me off. It was your stupid boyfriend who-”
“Don’t bring Hayden into this. This is between you and me and-”
“And what? You’re supposed to be the understanding best friend and not some demeaning, psycho bit-”
That was roughly when Mr. Weatherly cut our conversation short, and I was glad he did or else I would have said something I would have deeply regretted. The fight had been transient. I couldn’t stay mad at Gem, especially when she apologized for being callous and acting like a jealous boy friend. I laughed at that and our brief fight was mended.
It wasn’t going to be so easy restoring the tear that had shown itself right in the middle of a newly patched quilt.
“Anya. Anya!”
I startled at the sound of my father’s booming voice. “Are you even listening to me?”
I rolled my eyes. “Not really. I tuned out after the first,” cocking my head I peered at the clock above the fireplace. It was half past one, which would mean that… “I stopped at promptly one-ten.”
He let out an exasperated sigh and said, “Charlotte, talk to your daughter.”
Mom looked taken aback by his tone and chided, “Now, Phillip. I don’t think that it’s the best way to-”
Dad cut her off by demanding, “Then what is the best way dear, hm? She obviously doesn’t care what I have to say.”
“Damn straight.”
“Anya,” my mother scolded. “Watch your language.”
This was ridiculous. I abruptly stood up and said, “You know what? Ground me. See if I care. I’m going to bed now because in case anyone has forgotten – I have school tomorrow.”
I turned on my heels and ran towards the stairs, pounding up the stairs with Mr. Cuddles on my heels. I slammed the door shut and collapsed on my bed face flat, my body weary and my stomach growling as loud as Mr. Cuddle’s meowing. Dinner had been skipped thanks to my little adventure with Liam, and now it was all catching up to me; the adrenaline fleeting from my veins with every passing minute.
Time was a mere illusion as I lay there, unmoving as I stared at the intricately woven leaves on my green comforter. Mr. C had fallen asleep, curled up on a pillow with his tail tucked around him like a shield. Quietly, I stood and grabbed my pjs from my dresser, changing and discarding my clothes into the hamper. My stomach growled, demanding to be feed that I thought it was loud enough to wake Mr. C. He didn’t stir though, even when I tripped over my own two feet as I made my way out the dark hallway and down the stairs. That cat was gone, heavily induced with dreams of endless mice and stuffed rabbits to play with.
I pried open the fridge and was blinded momentarily by the bright yellow light. It took me a moment to adjust to it as I blinked back the black dots that clouded my vision. A sudden wave of vertigo quickly followed afterwards, and I clutched the handle of the fridge tightly – willing the pain to go away. I felt the acrid smell of blood before I tasted the hot, metallic on my tongue.
I brought my fingers to my mouth, and came away with them stained red. My heart began to pound loudly in my ears as I grabbed handfuls of napkins from the dining table. I was freaking out, and all I wanted to do was run to my parents and curl underneath the covers with them as they lulled me to sleep just like when I was a kid and complained about the hammering headaches I frequently obtained. But I couldn’t do that. I was mad at them, and that would be declaring defeat.
I wasn’t going to lose this because I was right and they were wrong. They shouldn’t have kept the nature of my adoption a secret from me. Weren’t they ever afraid of me finding out like I had today? Did that never cross their minds as the years passed by and I grew up? Did Mom or Dad ever look into my eyes and sadly think that I wasn’t theirs?
Hot tears prickled down my cheeks before I could stop them. It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair. All I wanted was to go back to biology class, and change my response when Mrs. Claemont asked me if I wanted to participate in the lab. If I had chosen to sit out; things would be different. I wouldn’t be here crying in the middle of the night while my head pounded like a drill, feeling like my skull was going to split in half.
I don’t know why things happen the way they do, but I wished to know the reason for this as I sank down to my knees and closed my eyes; for once welcoming the darkness that was all too familiar.
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- Author's Note -
So what did you guys think? It's almost midnight soo I'm sorry if this is badly written. If it is just tell me and I'll go back and edit it some mo' lol :P I hope it's not THAT bad 'cause my beta fish (yes beta fish) read through it and she said it was good! :D Haha okay....so I probably sound high...but that's probably cause I'm dying from lack of sleep xD
If anyone has any song recommendations for this story feel free to tell me about them :) I love discovering new music, just ask lverlaine and Platypus1987. They tell me new songs all the time! Anyways....now I'm rambling! sD
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