I'm in love with Anthony
He never left my mind. He was always there, if not physical then mentally. It was illogical. Though he was my stable force in my world filled with endless chaos, he was still Anthony Martinez and no matter how much he said he cared, he would never love me back. That was even more illogical. I was in love with him and I couldn't believe I had only just realized it.
He walked only a few feet in front of me, talking on his phone. He had tried to take my hand, but I had refused.
His car was nicely parked by the side of the road and as we approached he looked back at me and removed the phone. "Can we go to my place?" he asked and opened the door for me.
I nodded my head and placed myself in the comforting seats. I leaned back and dried my eyes for the third time. He sat beside me, trying to keep his eyes away from me but failed. "I should call the police or something. How dare he raise his hand against his own child?" He slammed his hands down on the wheel and caught my eyes.
"Please don't do anything. I can do it myself."
"I don't believe you. If you could do it yourself, you would have done it by now. You're an adult for God sake!"
"Don't yell at me," I said low and raised my hands to my ears.
He drew in a deep breathe. "Sorry, I... I just can't do nothing." Anthony ran a hand through his already messy hair quickly three times. I hooked my own hands down in my pants and dropped my gaze down on the floor of the car.
"I don't want anyone to do my things for me. I've survived five years on my own and I can keep that on for a few more. I don't need your help I just need someone who will not shout at me or judge me. Is that too much to ask?"
Anthony kept his eyes steady resting on the wheel as he tried to control his temper with deep breathes and probably a few calming words in his mind. That seemed to work for others.
"You see, I understand that you want someone who won't shout or judge you, but I don't understand how you can't see you need help. You can't do everything by yourself."
"I can and I will!"
"No!"
"Stop!" I screamed, dodging my head. "Please just stop." It was only a whisper compared to the scream, but it shouted him completely up and his whole body tensed beside me. He was lost for words, totally stunned and I understood. If some girl had screamed in my head I would have reacted the same way.
"I-I really don't know what else to do. I have no idea and I think you need to really make a decision. Do you want me to help you or do you want to stay like this," he said and brushed the dirt away from his pants.
Deep down I knew he was right. I just knew it, but like my father, my ego shadowed over the best decision and covered the voice of my heart. He sat right beside me and in some way through these months he had always been there and I had taken it all for granted and here I am, for the second time, on the edge of losing him. I could choose to keep him and fight for myself or I could take the easy way and keep being broken and hurt. It didn't sound like a hard choice, but it was.
"Your decision," he said coldly and ran his hands over the wheel. I looked at him in wonder. Was he worth it?
Yes.
Yes, he was.
"Okay," I breathed out and looked up.
"Okay, what?"
"Okay, I'll go with you. I'll let you help me and I mean it."
He smiled and turned on the car. "See, that wasn't so hard." We drove down the street with his words in the air, calming but still a bit too bad boyish.
I looked out the window, trying to remember whatever we drove past, every detail and then describing them in my head and molding them into fine little things some people would call masterpieces.
My gaze went to the naked streets, as Anthony turned on his music and sang to together with the singer. My thoughts ran to my father, all the things he had done to me. The blame and the guilt I had felt everytime I had cried in my room, holding ice to different parts of my body. I had somehow always wished someone would reach out a hand to help me, but when someone did, I dodged it and went the other way.
My mother had even asked about it once or twice. Why hadn't I done anything back then? Why did it have to be this hard?
I went back to reality when I discovered he wasn't driving to Anthony's house, but we were in a whole other part of the town. "Where are we going?"
"To my place."
"But that isn't this way."
"Yes, it is."
"No, you don't live here."
"I do actually do." He quickly looked over at me. "Did you really think I didn't own my own apartment?"
My eyes widened as I shook my head. "I didn't really think about that."
"But I do and you are about to see it. It is amazing I can tell you. With a nice kitchen."
"Do you like to cook?"
"Why do you ask about that?"
I bit my lip. "Because you said you thought the kitchen was nice, so was just interested if you liked to cook since it was that part you had highlighted."
"Your weird you know that right."
"I know."
He smiled. "Good, but to answer your question, no I don't like to cook, I just like my kitchen."
"Okay."
"Aren't you going to ask me what I actually like? Isn't that the part there is coming after you guessing wrong?"
"I don't think so," I said and shook my head slowly. I shifted my eyes to Anthony, who focused strongly on the road and making sure he took the right turn.
"Okay," he said low and stopped the car in front of a very nice house, not as nice as his parents, but close enough. It's cold white walls, shined pale in the sun and the two cars really added that extra brag to the whole thing. Crystal clear windows illuminated dancing sun over their surfaces and a beautiful oak door was placed at the end of the stone path. It was amazing. He even had a water fountain.
"Is this really your house?" I asked and pressed my face as close to the window as possible.
"Yes... and just if you didn't know, you can walk out the car if you want to take a closer look." He stepped out himself and when his word had gone through my head, I followed close after. As we walked closer, it just became better and better, with more expensive details and even a little lake with fish.
He opened the door for me and as I stepped in and stepped on the polished wooden floor, my stomach twisted. I didn't belong to something so modern. Everything was either a sleek gray, a pale white or dark red or black. There wasn't anything there showed personality.
We walked further into the house and he led me to the kitchen in silence. The only thing there really impressed me in the house was the paintings. I couldn't care less about the fancy furniture, the paintings talked on their own and I heard them. As we reached the kitchen I saw a door with a paint covered handle. It was the only thing besides the paintings there had sparks of color.
"Nina?"
I turned around to look at Anthony. "Yeah?"
"You're going to live here until we get your father sent to jail."
"What?" I couldn't really move or speak rationally. He had really pushed all the air out of my lungs.
"You're going to stay here as we establish a case against your father. I know a really good lawyer and my brother will defiantly help. He adores you. And anyway, your father can't possibly win against us, cause what are the odds for-"
"Stop," I interrupted. I took a deep breath. "I don't want my father in jail."
He raised an eyebrow. "Why not? Think about what he has done to you."
"I know, but if my father goes to jail, my family reputation will be shattered and we can't afford that. My mother will never get a job and my brother will never come back. I can't afford that!"
He leaned against the kitchen counter. "And so what? Having him in your family is worse!"
"What do you know about that? Last time I checked your life went pretty well!"
"Well excuse me for trying to help!"
I sighed deeply. "Sorry, I just don't know if I can take it right now."
"It's okay." He made his way over to me and held me lightly. "Sometimes we have to do things we don't always want, but knows we have to. For our own sake."
"It's not fair," I said and smuggled out of his grip. "You shouldn't be this kind. You should be the mean bad boy who dated the miss popular girl."
"So you expected me to be mean?"
"Yes, you have quite a reputation. And I saw you beat someone."
"To my defense, he was an ass and I'm not mean!" He walked over and sat on a high chair. He lightly crossed his arms and stared at me.
"Only a little," I mumbled to myself and looked away from him.
"Hey! What did you say?"
"Nothing!"
"I don't think so!" He pointed a finger at me.
"It was nothing!"
"Fine, but don't mumble like that. If you have something to say, then say it. That's an important rule!" he said and turned his expression very serious.
"It works better for you than for me."
Without saying anything, he walks out of the room, leaving me behind. What was he doing? "Anthony?" I asked the empty room, but with no response. "Anthony?" Nothing.
I walked the same way as he had, but the house was massive, with corridors a and doors there all looked the same. I found the front door and stiffen when it opened in front of me.
"Oh Nina, what are you doing here?" Antonio asked as he stood in the door opening with a stiff face and a stack of papers in his hand.
"I've no idea."
...
First of all... sorry for the late update, however, I really need your help on this subject about updates. I really don't know how long there should be between updates, like how long is long enough. Please share your thoughts in the comments so I can make your reading experience better.
Nevertheless, I just want to remind you that right now I can't make a solid deal about how long there will be between each update, since school, friends and soccer/football, still take most of my time.
-Houzza