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32: Switch
I wake up feeling a heavy presence on my body. An arm is wrapped around me, and I begin to panic. Where am I? I look up to see his eyes closed, his lips connected onto my forehead, and his chest revealed.
Did he sleep in the same bed as me?
Oh my lord.
How did I not feel his presence when I knocked out?
I feel the heat rise not only to my cheeks, but also my body itself due to his body heat and the blanket covering us. I need to get out of his grip, or else I'll pass out from this extreme heat.
I begin to squirm in his arms, trying to remove myself without waking him up. His grip tightens instead of loosening, and I feel myself gasp for air. "Good morning," he whispers into my hair. His voice is lower than usual, and I almost lose track of what I was trying to do moments prior. His voice sounds so daring and attractive right now - deep and raspy. It seems as if he's numb to the fact that he's in bed with me.
I cover my mouth with my hands, not wanting him to smell my breath. I mumble out a good morning, and he pulls out of his grip and stares at me, "Is there a particular reason why your hands are covering your mouth?" I shake my head, and at the same time, I remove the heavy blanket over our bodies to escape the heat.
Immediately, I feel the air conditioning hit my skin, and I run right into his bathroom squeaking that it's cold. I look at myself in the mirror and realize that I'm in nothing but my undergarments and a t-shirt.
Wait. What.
He took off my clothes?
I feel myself blush even harder now realizing Jake must've taken off my clothes last night. I wonder how he reacted to seeing me like this. I hold onto the material of the shirt but almost right away, fear runs in my head noticing all of the vivid dark marks all over my body.
He took off my clothes and saw all of these abusive markings.
I splash water on my face, trying to remove the makeup that's smudged under my eyes after crying and sleeping. Every time I look at myself in the mirror, I internally scold my entire being.
I should have stood my ground better against that asshole.
I turn off the faucet and wipe my face on the towel hanging on one of the bar ledges. As I wipe my face, I feel arms gently wrapping around my torso, and his lips connect with my neck.
"Why'd you run out of our room," his voice is so gentle and sincere without any sign of disappointment. I continue to wipe my face, covering my mouth with the towel.
"Toothbrush," I state.
"What?" He questions, seemingly amused by me being entrapped in his arms while my face is buried in the towel.
"Toothbrush," I repeat in the same tone, getting a little annoyed.
"I'm sorry, could you say that again, babe?" His voice is latched with a teasing tone, making me roll my eyes and removing the towel from my mouth.
"I said, tooth -"
But before I can say anything else, my body is turned around to face him and his lips collide with mine, softly pushing pressure until my back is against the wall. His hands slowly cup my neck as my arms drop the towel and hug his torso.
He removes his lips from mine, and I automatically gasp for air. "Now, what did you want?" His smirk is evident on his face, and I can't help but smile when I try to say the same word one more time, "I said I wanted a -"
Without hesitation, he grabs me firmly by my hips and lifts me off the ground before exiting the bathroom as quickly as he can. My body is laid down on his bed whilst he's hovering right above me. His hands cup my neck once again, and he dives in for a kiss. The spark from the first time he and I shared our kiss returned immediately, and I feel myself smile.
However, after a few moments, I feel myself begin to worry. His hands begin to lower, and I immediately use my arms to guard my chest from reflex. His hands slowly lift them off, pinning me down onto his mattress. The rush of Quinn's dirty hands frighten me, and my breath accelerates. "Ja - Jake," I arch my back to lift my body off the bed, trying to remove his lips off of mine.
His lips depart mine almost right away, and I back away from him, touching the backboard of the mattress. "I - I'm sorry. I can't."
"What do you mean you can't?" his voice seems confused, not knowing why I pulled away from him.
*
Point of View: Jake T. Austin
*
Her head touches the backboard of my bed, her eyes widened with fear and her arms are shaking.
"Every single time I - I see -" she tries to lace her sentences, but it won't make a coherent thought. Then, it hit me.
I'm stupid as hell.
"I want to kiss you so badly, but I just can't. I shouldn't be like this. I shouldn't be scared to kiss you, but I am," she covers her face, her face flush with red. I feel my heart break slowly as I see her begin to break down. Her breathing staggers every few moments, and I feel like an asshole now trying to kiss her. I should have realized sooner that she isn't ready. Not with her mind being occupied.
"His dirty hands flash through my mind every single time. It's terrible to see, and I - I just want that to disappear," her hands are removed from her head, and she finally looks up at me. "I want to remove all those images - those stupid regretful moments," her tears are flushing down her face before her voice screams a soft whisper, "It's so hard, Jake." She continues to sob, and I feel the darkness inside her mind begin to take over her body like the first time I talked to her inside my car. I feel the pain slap me across the face; the feeling of my sadness long ago disappears and is replaced by this. Her pain and hatred right now is so evident that the room seems to suffocate not only her, but me.
Until she says this: "I - I just want - I should just disappear for -"
I immediately crawl towards her, not wanting her to finish this statement. "Baby, hey don't say that," I wrap my arms around her shoulders, pulling her close, "Don't you ever say that. I need you in my life."
She stops speaking, but I know better than that. She's screaming inside her mind, trying to hide the pain inside her heart. "Just scream it out, baby," I encourage her. It isn't healthy for her to hide all this pain inside of her. "Let me know how much you're hurting. I need to know what's going on."
"I want it to disappear."
It.
I remain quiet.
"I - I need you Jake. I need you," her nails pierce my skin, showing me the tension that's running inside of her. I remain still, trying to hide the pain she is inflicting on me with her nails. I need to show her that I'm here to protect her.
"I need to know that you don't hate me. That I'm not as pathetic as I feel. I'm so fucking worthless I just -"
"Babe - baby," I run my hand through her hair, "You're anything but worthless." Her eyes have been red and tired for days now, the bags evident under her eyes. She's finally staring at me without looking away, and I take this opportunity to wipe the tears falling down her cheeks, and her lips are in a frown. "I'm sorry," she states out of nowhere. I use my index finger to touch her lips closed, and her eyes glossy with water just stare at me, waiting for me to speak.
In just two days, two men hurt her. Two guys violated her body, and I wasn't there to stop them. I could've saved her, but I wasn't fast enough. I was stupid to think that nothing would be able to go near her. "You have nothing to apologize for. I'm sorry for not being able to protect you. It's my fault that you were in that situation. I should have stayed with you that night. I should've known the moment I saw that asshole in the premiere that he would go up to you. I was just - God. They'll both regret what they did to you."
Her eyes look away from mine, and I feel like I said something wrong.
I wait for her to explain more, thinking that she'll tell me more information about the time she almost got raped, and also yesterday's fiasco, but she just grabs the blanket and wraps her whole self in it, hiding from me and the surroundings.
"Can I have some time for myself?" She croaks out over the blanket covering her. It's like she's shutting me out, and my heart seems to feel burdened. She isn't telling me something. She's hiding something from me.
But instead of saying no to her, I agree and leave the room, shutting the door in the process. I'll give her some time to herself. She's safe in my home.
I go into the kitchen and immediately start grabbing utensils and ingredients out. It's better that I make her some breakfast; that'll ease her mind from all of this chaos.
About a half hour later...
I've made two stacks of pancakes, bacon, eggs, and set up some oatmeal and cereal, so she can choose what she wants to eat. We haven't had breakfast before, so this will be something new.
I picture her walking out of the room smiling once she sees the effort I put on this. I'm positive this will lighten her mood.
I pour out a pitcher of mango juice, since Lara despises orange juice due to it's bitter taste. I remember her auntie giving her a bottle of orange juice at the set one day, and she tried persuading me to chug it all down.
I place the glass cups on the table and all the eating utensils before wiping the island counter clean due to the mess I've made cooking. I throw the towel in the wash basket before removing my apron and hanging it on the closet hook.
I quickly stride to my bedroom door, knocking softly before opening it.
"Lara, I made you some breakfast," I state, but no one is in the room. I swing the bedroom door wide open, and the blanket is thrown on the floor. I lift the blanket from the floor and fold it quickly, and I immediately cross the room to enter the bathroom.
I hold onto the door knob, but it won't budge.
She locked the door.
I pin my ear onto the wooden door, wanting to know what's going on from the inside.
What is she up to?
"Babe, you in there?" I rattle the door to identify that she did lock the door from the inside. I hear the faucet running, and over that, her voice: "Yea, I wanted to take a shower," Her voice sounds peculiar, but I do not know what else to think, "I'm coming out soon. Just - uh - wait for me outside."
"Do you have clothes already? I can get you some -"
"I took some from your closet. Just wait outside," her voice rushes out.
If she was in the shower, why is the faucet on? This doesn't make any sense.
"Are you sure you're okay? I can -"
"Just wait outside," she reiterates without any doubt in her mind, "Just wait outside."
I nod at the door, but I immediately realize she doesn't see my movement, and I quickly agree before going back into the kitchen to wait for her.
*
Point of View: Marian Lara Estrada
*
"Alright," he states from the other side of the door. I hear his hand slide off the doorknob, and I wait for another door to shut, telling me that I'm alone again.
Both the sink and tub faucets continues to run while I lay my head on the wall of the bathroom as my body is in the tub. I've been in this tub for a few minutes already: the water changing temperatures from extremely hot to tepid.
The blood neutralizes in the water, telling me that the pain is going away. The red liquid from my right arm escapes quickly in the water, the flow of H2O and blood going down the drain.
I hold the blade of metal between my left index and thumb, glancing at the sharpness of the tool and the blood that oozes down from it onto my clean arm before putting it in the water with my right one.
I lift my right arm from the water, checking to see the blood gone from it only leaving faint pink lines to replace the bruises. The small, intricate lines are barely there anymore since I've soaked it.
I've stayed in this spot for a while now.
I stand up quickly, putting the blade back in Jake's razor as if I never touched it. I place it inside the drawer I found it in earlier, before lifting the bar inside the tub to activate the shower.
I grab the soap and glide it against my skin, the stinging feeling satisfying the pain I should feel.
This is what you get for being stupid, Lara.
You get pain.
This is what you deserve.
I feel the rush of tears flowing down me as droplets continue to pound my face and body, but I continue to follow through with it, giving myself punishment for being so weak and worthless.
You're anything but worthless.
Jake's voice echoes inside of me, but I try to ignore it by continuing to clean myself with the sting of soap and water.
After a few agonizing minutes, I grab the towel and wipe myself from head to toe. The new marks on my body are not fully developed, but they are beginning to show with every minute that passes after getting dried. I lift up the pair of shorts I found inside of Jake's closet up my legs before throwing on the grey crewneck on my body. The sleeves are long enough to hide each new scar I made on my right arm, and I look at myself in the mirror one last time, but the only thing I can see is hatred screaming at me: the stupidity rushing inside, my demons inside my eyes telling me to continue destroying myself.
That's what I need.
To destroy myself in order to make the pain go away. It'll disappear faster.
I wipe the stray tear falling from eye before straightening the sweater on my body. I quickly open the door and walk into the hallway before going inside the kitchen.
His back is towards me, and I look down at my entire being to make sure everything is hidden on my arms.
Keep a smile on your face, Lara.
"Jake," I whisper out. He immediately stands up as if he had just seen a ghost and looks at me with wide eyes. "You took longer than I thought," he approaches me with a grin on his lips. I look at the unbuttoned collared shirt that is on him meaning that he changed before leaving me in the room. I look pass him and see the dishes he has prepared, and I give him a small smile in approval. He grabs my left arm and leads me to my chair, waiting for me to sit down before he sits across.
"I thought you could have some breakfast in your system." he pours some orange juice in my glass cup, and I instantly cringe. He lets out a small chuckle before speaking, "It's mango." It takes me a while before realizing what he meant, and I lift the glass to my lips and take a sip, "Thanks."
We eat in silence. The clatter of our utensils make sharp sounds as we slice and stab our food. Minutes go by: food disappears into our stomachs and drinks are poured over and over into our cups.
"Lara, do you like the food?" He breaks the silence after hours. I look up at him, seeing the happiness in his eyes as he waits for my answer.
"Definitely," I put the fork and knife on my plate, so I can take another drink of my juice. I say nothing right after, and the silence remains like this for ten more minutes until I stand up to put my plates in the sink. He comes right after me, putting his dishes on top of mine in the sink before resting his head on top of mine, "Babe, I'll do the dishes. Just sit in the living room and wait for me there," he rests his hands on my shoulders, massaging them with his fingers.
"No, I'm fine washing them," I grab the sponge and soak it with soap. He continues to massage my shoulders, not leaving me. I grab each utensil in the sink, lathering it with soap before rinsing it. Jake's hands lower to my hips, and the fear I had earlier comes back to mind. I force myself to maintain my calm, not wanting to insult his actions. I grab the knife with my hand and soak it in the warm water before rubbing it with soap.
"Babe, you want me to roll up your sleeves?" his hands are around my waist now, our bodies against each other, "You're getting my sweater a little wet."
"No! I - I mean - It - It's cold. I rather keep it like this," my excuse is pathetic, but he cannot see what I've done. He adjusts his arms to interlock his hands, so he is hugging me: "Lara, the water is steaming. I don't think it'll matter if you lift the sleeves up just a little bit."
I shake my head, not wanting to do his suggestion, and he lets go of me. The warmth of his body against mine disappears, and I feel like something was ripped away from me.
"I'll get you a blanket, so we can watch movies in the living room," he kisses my cheek before leaving me alone.
He's starting to lose interest in you.
You're a piece of shit.
He'll leave you sooner or later.
My inner thoughts begin to come out as I finish cleaning the dishes.
I turn off the running water and wipe my hands before walking out of the kitchen to the living room. I lay on the couch and stare at the television screen before zoning out into my own world. I grip my right arm with my left hand, the pain from earlier finally felt. I stare at the ceiling and begin to ponder on what would've happened if I never got in the car with Jake when he offered to drive with me. If I came with Aubrey and Austin instead when I had the piña colada. He did so much for me; I don't deserve him in my life. He's too good for me, yet he continues to deal with the shit I give him.
The fan on the ceiling continues to spin in counterclockwise fashion, and my arm's pulse begins to beat harder and harder.
"Marian Lara," a voice states out of nowhere. I instantly sit up straight to be met by Jake's eyes staring intently at me.
"How long have you been there?" I ask, not realizing what was going on in my surroundings. He lifts his eyebrow at me, worry flooding his system.
"I've been here for ten minutes... What's on your mind?" he doesn't waste any time, and he scoots near my body while wrapping me in the blanket he had in his arms. He reaches for the TV remote and turns off the screen, and now I have his undivided attention.
"Why'd you turn off the TV?" I stretch my arm out, not wanting the silence to ensue. He grabs the remote before I can get it, putting it inside his pocket before lifting me to his lap.
"What's wrong?" He seems to hesitate with this question. It's as if he wants me to have mental break down, but at the same time, he's scared what'll happen.
Thousands of words rush into my brain, telling me - forcing me to tell him what I need to let out. I wrap the blanket closer to my body, pearls of sweat starting to accumulate on my forehead, trying to make more time by adjusting the cloth on me. He grabs the blanket from my hands and fixes it himself, so it wraps us both in it. His eyes bore into mine, begging for me to speak up.
I look up at the ceiling, the fan circling over and over.
"Do you know that feeling?" I start off. He looks up at the ceiling with me, making me continue. The fan spins, symbolizing what I'm going through, "That feeling - that repetitive feeling circling around you - lecturing you - screaming at you. Over. And over. And over again." I stare at the wooden panels beginning to slow down even though it hasn't done such a thing.
I feel his hand take hold of mine, intertwining them, causing me to look down at our hands.
"I hate that feeling."
He squeezes my hand right away after that statement, and I can't help but look up at him. His lips are parted, and I just stare at his lips while speaking. "I've been having that repeating pain for the past few days; every time I get a break, something slams right against me, telling me I'm not living a fantasy. I'm living in some sort of screwed up hell." I feel myself shiver against his body, but I continue.
"I want it to go away," I begin, "I want all the pain and sorrow to go away. I want - I - I need everything to stop. Just for a moment - just one second to have peace in my life."
"Everything is falling to pieces. First, your career is in jeoprady because of me. Just because I was stupid to get a drink by myself one time. Just because I'm weak. Just because I'm useless," I can't bear to look at him - his brown eyes are full of life, the light in the room shining on him while dullness and darkness consume my being. "Why did that asshole have to go after me? I'm not worth it. Shit, I'm not even in any of your leagues. You're so high up, and I'm beneath the concrete in hell." His mouth purse as he tries to calm me from my fit of staggered breathes, small shushing noises coming from him. "Don't say that, Marian Lara. You're special to me; they'll never come back for you. That asshole, Quinn and whoever took you that day at the studios won't come back and hurt you anymore. I'll always be by your side."
I look at him and his comforting glance, his kindness overwhelming my thoughts. I cut off his statement about the two men which is only one to get him off track from Quinn. He doesn't need to know about it. Not now.
"Second," I pause for a moment to see him nod at me, "Remember when my mother called me?" his hand twitches against mine, and I feel the fear in him just like me. "She hadn't called me this whole time I've been here, yet she called a few days ago - just to scold me."
I chuckle lightly, no happiness in the air I was breathing, "She knows every single word - every syllable to put me down - to make me hate myself: 'Lara, you're so stupid;' 'Lara, you don't understand anything;' 'Lara, why are you so irresponsible;' I don't even know what I'm doing wrong anymore. I've done everything for her to be happy with me, but she doesn't give one shit with what I do. She looks at every flaw I have, every small mistake no matter how much I try to hide my imperfections from her. Every time I do something great, she'll look the other way and find something I haven't done yet: for crying out loud, I have the class rank of one out of 583 in my class, but instead of being happy of that, she lectures me on getting a low grade on participation." I wipe my eyes before saying what I've been leading him to. His arms wrap around me tighter than before, my senses consuming his musk scent and the affection that I don't deserve from him.
I inhale the oxygen surrounding me, filling my lungs over and over to tell him what I should've said the day my mother called. "But I've been lying to her. The guilt is killing me; proving to me I am horrible, but I - I just don't want the life she's forcing me to have when I'm in California. I want to be with you. I - I lied to her; I said I've been with auntie and she never leaves me out of her sight. I just - I wish she would understand that we aren't in the 20th century anymore. She can trust me. She can -"
His lips close in on my forehead again, staying there for a few moments. I look up at him, seeing him struggling for words after the speech I've literally laid on him. He clears his throat before putting strands of hair behind my ear, "Baby, there are two things I can say when I'm looking at this situation," his hand continues to brush through my hair, and my attention is directly at him and no one else, "First: you may be rebelling now, but you're not horrible for doing that. Technically, Auntie has been supportive in everything you've done, and she's kept our secret. You didn't lie to her because all you've said to your mom were vague facts." His hand lifts my chin up, and he presses his lips at the corner of my lips, barely touching them. "Second: I love you. No matter what happens, I will fight for our relationship. Maybe not in the public, but I will win your parents' trust like I've won yours and your aunt and uncle."
I smile at his attempt to make me feel better, but it only accentuates the harsh beating of my heart.
"Lara, you're the best thing that came into my life."
Another beat strikes my heart as his smile lifts into view.
"Don't you blame yourself for anything that's happening around us. You're not alone. I'm here for you through this whole journey no matter how hard you push me away."
His words continue to pierce me. I'm not telling him everything he needs to know. I am a horrible girlfriend.
"Jake," I start off.
His eyebrows lift up to show me he's still listening to every word I'm saying. "I'm -"
The sound of a phone ringing cuts my statement, and he quickly rummages through his pant pocket to shut off his phone. "Sorry, babe. I forgot my phone was in my pocket. What were you saying?"
"I'm -" Just tell him already. He needs to know before he finds out another way.
"I'm in love with you." I chicken out at the last moment and alter my sentence. I can tell him later. It's not the time for him to know.
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Well... How was that for a chapter?
Sorry for the lateness of my chapters. It's finals season, and it is difficult to update. Anyways... I have a question for you all to answer, so I know what all of you are thinking. (and if you do not answer this question... I'll just assume you guys honestly don't want another chapter)
QUESTION: What is Lara wanting to tell Jake? (There can be multiple things that you can guess.)
Answer this question to get the next chapter. (Try not to give me a one-word response...Those are really plain and boring)
I'm honestly thinking of stopping this book since it seems like no one is reading my book. I love you all, but I just can't keep writing if no one is actually reading it.
I love you all.
Keep voting, commenting, and sharing this book.