"She was brave and strong and broken all at once"
-Anna Funder
✥ ✥ ✥
"WE NEED TO GO TO THIS PARTY!" Bella squeals, her forest dark green eyes flickering with excitement while I take my books from my locker.
"You know I can't talk my dad out of something he already decided. I can't go out." I say with a sad smile, causing her to frown. My dad absolutely prohibits me from going anywhere but my house and both of my best friend's houses.
And I'm the good girl who always follows the rules.
According to my dad, I need to study hard this last year so that I can be accepted at Harvard, the university of his dreams. The keyword, his.
"I do, but you have to live a little, Lina," My best friend says as she shakes her head, repeating the same thing she's been telling me since junior year. I roll my eyes as she huffs annoyed that I refused.
"It's not like I don't want to," I mumble as I shut my locker door, her sigh loud next to me.
Bella and I had been friends since we were in diapers and I couldn't imagine facing high school without her, but sometimes, she was hard to deal with. As I observed my best friend, her straightened and short dark blonde hair bobbed and swayed with each step of her heeled shoes. Her short jean skirt and a white frill-edge crop top matched perfectly, accentuating her curves and pairing well with her makeup.
We were alike, almost like twins, until something bad happened to her family. When her twin brother passed away last year, everyone expected her to grieve for a long time. Instead, after the winter recess, she came back different and stronger than ever.
Short skirts and meaningless hookups became her new mantra. I'm glad she didn't close herself from everyone else, but she turned into a shallow girl when referring to boys and clothes.
"Bad boy alert," Bella says breathlessly, suddenly changing the topic. And I knew exactly who she was talking about. My bestie has had her eyes on Damien Stone for too long.
I turn around and see all the students parting away so the school's bad boy and his group can pass freely. His close friend, Chadwick Wells, and sister, Kayla Stone, remaining at his side at all times.
The boys mess with practically everyone, but people are smart enough not to mess with them back and just stay out of their way. Kayla is the only one that likes to keep things low-key.
Damien doesn't just smoke and ride a motorcycle. He's as dangerous as the devil and he makes sure everybody knows it.
But there was something about his dangerous personality that attracts and frightens me at the same time.
One thing I admire is that he doesn't let anyone take him down or the people he cares about. His gang member's best friend and sister are people he truly protects.
I just wish I had the guts to stand up for my little brother at home. I don't care if I get hurt, but I just need to protect Samuel.
"He looks even hotter than yesterday," Bella whispers to me, still saying it loud enough for other people to hear. Especially the bad boy.
Too bad he doesn't.
Damien walks toward us, scowls engraved on the two boys' faces. For one second, Kayla genuinely smiles at me, causing me to remember our brief meeting in the girl's bathroom yesterday. It was meaningless until she saw me crying.
That's what terrifies me the most. What if she tells the whole school what she saw?
I would become the broken girl of our year. More shattered than I already am.
We are mere mortals compared to the power Damien's crew hold.
Everyone knows his appearance is one of a kind, and that's why girls swoon over him. I do too, but I like to keep my interest hidden while my superficial classmates, my best friend included, work far too hard to grab his attention.
The bad boy's dark blonde hair, hazel eyes, and tanned skin are the signatures of his good looks. He's handsome but with those muscular arms and that deadly stare, Damien puts everyone in their place.
The family's gene is impeccable since his sister is as beautiful as he's handsome. Her honey-blonde hair that stops at her waist just like mine, is a few shades lighter than her brother's, but it still frames her face and matches her hazel eyes.
Those hazel eyes, the one particular thing the Stone siblings have in common besides the tanned skin.
The bad boy could never be considered good, not even in terms of looks.
Chadwick, on the other hand, has light brown hair and chestnut eyes. He could be the golden boy if he wanted to. The atmosphere that circles around him is not even close to the dark and dangerous one from Damien. Still, he's been loyal to his best friend since kindergarten.
Bella squeezes my left wrist, probably to catch my attention, and the dark purple bruise aches, making me curse under my breath.
Flashbacks from two days ago, cross my mind, sending a shiver through my whole body. I can't keep going over that again. It will break me.
But it's already been breaking me, little by little since my mom died.
Breathe in and breathe out.
Don't let Bella find out. Don't let anyone find out.
"Are you okay?" Bella's voice rings in my ears before I focus on reality again.
All I do is a nod. Luckily, my best friend doesn't realize what is really going on.
Most of our classmates have already dissipated after Damien's usual little show and head off to their classes.
Bella and I do the same. She grabs my arm and we head to our chemistry class together.
However, I can't shake away the feeling that I'm powerless when I need to protect my family. It haunts me every day.
And I wish my bruised wrist was the only thing that happened with my little brother and I two days ago.
"Have you seen Kayla's new Prada pumps?" Eric asks as he walks into my room. My best friend could get us to talk about anything but the project we will be having next week, and I wouldn't mind at all.
We had a meeting spot after class in case we don't run on each other in the hallway by the end of school.
But today was a special case.
Luckily, Eric's mom, the school's vice-principal, pulled some strings so that we have the last two classes together.
"Hello to you too," I laugh as he trips before sitting down, starting to tell us all about shoes. Correction, the bad boy's sister's shoes.
"Ugh, tell me about it," Bella says in a frustrated tone. I don't get why she could care about fashion that much. My best friend spends every single dollar she gets from her dads on shoes. What's the difference between Prada and Louis Vuitton? I don't understand it, nor do I want to.
My main goal is to discover how can I help my little brother and still do well in school so my dad doesn't notice what I'm doing.
"I swear if I wasn't gay, I would definitely hook up with Kayla Stone," Eric says as I roll my eyes and Bella laughs loudly, but he still keeps the wide smile on his face. His electric blue eyes sparkle and my stomach drops.
Meaning? He has an idea. And it's probably a terrible one that will get me grounded.
Only my dad's punishment isn't just staying in my room like theirs would be. I still don't know how I keep all bruises out of my best friends' sight.
"We could go to the massive party at Chadwick's house! Oh god, he is so hot."
Bella shoots up from her seat to hug Eric and they both squeal like little girls, but I can only groan and try to hide with a pillow on top of my head.
"Pretty please! Just say you will think about it." My two best friends plead as they stare at me with their puppy dog eyes.
Obviously, I want to go. Have some fun and maybe get a little drunk, forget about what my dad has been doing but I just can't. Leaving my little brother alone at night is not an option.
But they can't know. Not now, never.
"Fine," I say, faking a smile. Bella sits on the bed on my right side, smiling like an idiot while my other best friend goes through my entire closet, trying to find something for me to wear.
He ponders his options and after a few minutes, Eric finds the only designer dress I have. It's an eye-catching sleeveless red silk dress that fits my body perfectly, showing the few curves I have. The same curves I want to hide from my father and practically everyone else.
Boys always prefer curvy girls. It's practically the rules of our school if you want to kiss someone or at least get noticed. I definitely don't stand a chance with my skinny 5'9" body.
A memory of going to the mall with my mom takes my mind. It was in the middle of summer, but she still made me try on lots of dresses that day. Her dark brown eyes like mine sparkled when she saw me in the one Eric is holding right now. A huge smile appeared on my face when I looked at myself in the mirror. That day, I felt pretty.
My mom, realizing my happiness, bought it without even thinking twice. But after her funeral, I never had the courage to wear that dress. I put it in the back of my closet, crying all alone when I finally realized that I had lost her.
"This is the one for Friday!" Eric exclaims, placing the red dress in front of him and looking directly into the mirror. "It highlights my blue eyes, doesn't it?"
His question pulls me back from my thoughts. Bella is already dying from laughter. He is truly hilarious and I can't help but chuckle.
Still, I resist the urge to cry, to set everything free that I have been keeping to myself.
That dress almost makes my eyes water at the same time.
Almost.
But I fake too well. It's what they say. Practice makes perfect.
"You need to wear this in two days. Please!" My two best friends beg in unison, causing me to roll my eyes for the second time in a day.
All over again. I can't keep going through this. Every night.
It shatters me.
I just can't.
I can't.
I can't.
"Please, stop, Dad!" I scream at the top of my lungs, hoping that maybe one of our neighbors would come and help. My hands are shaking, my heart beating loudly and fast inside my chest. "You are hurting him!"
My little brother's agonized yelps keep getting louder and louder, ringing in my ears. I watch as my dad grabs his small arm and shoves him to the ground. His head avoids crashing into the cold floor by mere inches, causing what's left of my breath to catch at the back of my throat. My chin trembles as the first tear fall down my cheek.
"Daddy," my brother chokes out, pleading for a way to stop all of this. More tears come and suddenly my crying turns into sobs, soaking the hem of my Hollister black sweatshirt. "Why are you doing this to me?"
But that only makes my dad angrier. I run to him before he can punch Sammy, protecting my little brother with my body and I face the man that should look after us. His breath reeks of alcohol.
Typical.
His eyes are red and bleary from the alcohol, but his punches and slaps don't seem influenced.
I wish I could go back in time. Only two years. When everything was easier, perfect.
I want nothing to do with my father anymore.
Samuel is only seven years old. Being beaten up isn't right for him; it isn't for anyone, actually.
But my mom made me promise I would take care of her innocent little boy if anything ever happened to her. He would have a great family when he was older.
She just didn't know what Tom - our dad, if I can even call him that- would become after her death.
I'm really sorry, Mommy.
Instead of punching my brother, my father slaps me. I feel his cold hand against my face, my cheek still wet from my tears. It burns and stings, but I can't give him the pleasure of seeing me in pain.
I'm not that weak yet.
My dad turns around to the marble countertop, probably to drink even more, and his breathing becomes more and more frantic.
His throbbing neck veins and his clenched fists at his sides are warnings of how long this night will be.
This's my chance to protect my little brother at least once.
His crying is soft beside me and I kneel to clean the tear rolling down his cheek, which is bright red like mine.
"Before he turns around, don't worry about me and run to our secret spot, alright?" I whisper in his ear. Sammy nods quickly while I caress his little hand with my thumb. "Everything will be fine, I promise."
I kiss his forehead before he runs away as fast as he can, only looking back once. But smiling at him is all it takes for him to continue running. He needs to believe I will be fine.
After my brother has already made it upstairs, Tom turns around. He realizes that Samuel is gone, but he doesn't go after him. My dad knows he has someone much better to receive his anger.
He likes to torture me because I resemble my mom with dark brown eyes and heart-shaped lips. Every time he looks at his daughter, he remembers his dead wife.
Finally, after what seemed like hours of pain and useless yells for help, my father lets me go. I guess he stopped for today or people would notice. How nice of him.
I want to scream and hit him, make him pay for everything he's been doing these past months but I don't. I don't stand a chance against him.
I slowly walk upstairs, my injured thigh aching all the way. It is bad, terrible. A huge mark, bright red with shades of pink forms. It practically looks like I fell down somewhere.
Tom knows exactly where to hit me.
When I finally get upstairs, I slowly head to my bedroom, the second door on the left.
My little brother is hidden on the backside of my closet, our secret spot. Both of his hands are planted on his ears, trying not to hear what was happening downstairs. Sammy already stopped crying, but he is still shaking.
He shivers when he hears footsteps but I murmur his nickname, the one my mom would use to calm him down. And my little brother comes running to me.
I hug him, weaving my fingers through the wavy curls that make him look even more angelic.
We both lay on my white bed, not saying anything to each other so we can absorb what just happened. After humming Twinkle Twinkle Little Star in his ear for a while, Sammy falls asleep and I feel my eyes grow heavy with sleep, finally deciding to take some time for myself.
I dream of tonight's horrible moments, but everything goes differently. A neighbor ends up calling the police after hearing my cries for help.
But in real life, no one came.
✥ ✥ ✥
{A/N: What a chapter, huh? I hope you liked this first chapter because I'm have been working on it for almost five hours! Click that star below to help this book grow if you have enjoyed it! It would really mean the world to me. With love, Ally}