Not edited.
"Ronnie?"
The familiar voice calls for the fifth time. I ignore it. Instead, I focus my undivided attention on the plate in front of me, pushing around my untouched eggs with my fork. It's what I've been doing for the last fifteen minutes while my dad tries to make me talk.
He's been pestering me the whole morning since I got up. Asking me about Adam, how was the play, and other things I have no desire to discuss.
I'm too caught up in my thoughts to care.
All I can seem to think about is that girl from yesterday.
I mean, who was that girl? Why hadn't I ever seen her before? Why was she running from Liam's direction? And does Liam know her?
When this last thought occurs, a twang of jealousy strikes me quite forcefully. Mainly because I don't like the idea of another girl hanging around Liam. Just how he doesn't like me hanging around another guy.
But it doesn't make sense. Why would Liam be associating with a Purgatory member? He hates them. For what reason? I don't know. I don't know a lot of things about Liam. And though I said I'd remain patient, I'm starting to get sick of all the secrets he's keeping.
I bet this is how Liam felt when I dodged all his questions about Adam and I. And man, it sucks.
I'm the kind of person where I need to know what's going on or I'm positively sure I'll go insane. Basically, suspense isn't a fond company of mine.
And so, naturally, I just assume the worse. Like Liam is seeing another girl behind my back. It's stupid, I know. But what other conclusion is there?
But on the other hand, maybe Liam doesn't know she is. Maybe he's just as clueless as me. Maybe he had no idea that chick was running on his territory.
Then again, Liam does keep a tight watch on the Purgatory pack for more reasons then one. Wouldn't he know the members of the pack and stuff? I'm sure Liam could detect a Purgatory member from miles away. So he'd know of her. And he'd take the chance to kill one, I'm positive about that.
So why hadn't Liam bursted through the clearing last night, searching after that girl? I remembered standing there for several minutes. Simply gazing at that same exact spot the girl had disappeared off to. That was more then enough time for Liam to arrive. But he didn't.
There's another chance he wasn't even home. Perhaps he was in town, getting a pizza or whatever. Or perhaps I'm just driving myself insane.
After I had bumped into the girl last night, instead of going to Liam and simply asking who she was, I chose the hard way. By going back home and doing exactly what I said earlier. Driving myself insane with curiosity and confusion. It resulted in insomnia, seeing as I stayed up half the night, wondering when my life got so complicated.
Oh God, it's too early in the morning to try solving pointless rittles.
With a sigh, I push away my plate and stand up, reaching to grab my bag and head out the door when my dad suddenly stops me by asking, "What time are you free?"
I look over my shoulder and raise an eyebrow, "What do you mean what time am I 'free'?"
"I mean for dinner," He drawls slowly, "With Tara."
I blink. "Dinner with Tara?" I echo stupidly.
"Yeah," He frowns, "I told you she wanted to meet you."
"Right," I mutter and press my lips together. "Well, I'm busy. So I don't know when."
My eyes flicker back to the door, unable to meet his stare while I scowl myself internally for that lame excuse of a lie. Busy with what? Breathing?
But to my surprise, even though it's evident I lied, my father doesn't press on it. Nor does bother to point out I have nothing to be busy with because I hardly have a social life. It's oddly nice of him when he says, "Oh, um, okay. Maybe another time."
I nod, but don't glance back at him. Without another word, I pick up my bag and exit, flinching when the door slams behind me.
I start my way down my usual path to school, kicking aimlessly at rocks and being lost in another swirl of thoughts. But this time, of my father and Tara.
And how there was no way in hell I'd ever meet her.
I was not about to let another unwelcomed visitor enter in my life. I wanted nothing to do with her. And I wasn't surely going to pretend I did just for the sake of my father.
Even if this chick is perhaps changing my dad for the better. He isn't moping around anymore. He isn't going out and disgustingly finding comfort in another woman's bed. Instead he's at home. With me. Trying so hard to rekindle our ghost of a relationship before mom died.
I wonder when he'll be able to see that it'll never happen. We'll never be the same as we were before. Because we've both changed in more ways then one.
I've grown bitter. Spiteful. Sarcastic. While he dwindled into this pathetic state of permanent sorrow. I forced myself to move on. I forced myself to be strong. I forced myself to believe that I didn't need him. And that he didn't me. Even if he is my father.
Before my mother's death, we weren't all that close, anyway. We butted heads, of course. Mainly because we were both so much alike. But he still cared for me. Like I did for him. He would nurture me and comfort me in my time of need when I was crying over the littlest of problems in the world. Like why wasn't Spongebob real.
He still loved me. And I still loved him, nonethless. That's obviously not the case now.
I'm pretty sure our compassion for one another died along with mom.
Like always, I push away the thoughts that trouble me the most and I continue my way to school. When I arrive, it's no surprise that everyone suddenly looks over at me. I can only guess it's because of the play and how Adam creepily named his love interest after me. And how it described our past.
It's humiliating. Especially when girls swarm around me and coo about how sweet Adam is. And how I should take him back.
It get's worse when the guys supposedly start to imitate Adam and I by gazing at each other and dramatically claiming their love for one another in high pitched voices. It makes my blood boil with agitation.
But I swallow down the profanities and screams of annoyance. Even if I did give them a piece of my mind, it wouldn't matter. It won't stop the fact Adam has publicly embarrassed me. Nor will it stop the endless gossip.
So I continue on like any other day. Sharing glares with strangers, getting told off by Mr. Matthews, and failing tests I didn't even know we were having in class.
It's no shock when I discover Liam is missing from school today. It just adds to my level of suspicion. Which is already reaching it's breaking point.
To take my mind off things, for lunch, I head on down to the art room and occupy my thoughts on what colors I should use.
I don't really paint anything. I pass the time by swirling colors together and watching them change into another. And I'm perfectly amused and content with that. Until someone decides to interrupt me.
Though it's not Adam or Liam. But Anna.
I only take mark of her presence when she clumsily trips over a canvas and falls flat on her face. She lays there for a few seconds before she reaches down and rubs her swollen ankle. I can hear her softly cursing herself for wearing five inch heels today.
I glance over at my half empty soda that's just as cold as when I got it from the vending machine. I don't realize what I'm doing till I stand up and grab it and hand it over to her.
She stares up at me, her eyebrows furrowed, but instead of protesting or questioning why, she takes it and places it against her throbbing ankle. She sighs contently at the relief.
And I'm left to awkwardly shift in my place and wonder if I should make a break for it before Anna starts to discuss our argument that we had just a week ago.
The one I'm still not ready to talk about.
Mainly because I still can't wrap my head around what we fought about. I'm still bewildered about all the things she said. And all the things I said.
How she claimed Cliff, Mandy, And Jessica had told her things about me, but then just minutes ago said she was my best friend and was worried about me.
Then again, I did initiate the fight with the snarky attitude I had, A small, and I mean small, part of me argues, she's your best friend. Apologize and don't lose her like you lost Adam.
I'm too stubborn to listen. So I go to collect my stuff and leave, but nothing ever goes as I want.
"I saw you run out last night at Adam's show." Anna blurts suddenly. I miss the awkward silence not even a minute later after she's said this. It's too embarrassing to even mention right now.
I don't reply. I'm hoping she'll get the message and realize this is a bad start to our first conversation after our fight. Obviously, Anna wants to take the chance to bathe in my humiliation since she says, "It must have been a shock when you found out the girl had the same name as you."
I have my back turned to her, so all I can hear is the rustle of the canvas and her unbuckling her shoes.
"Yeah," I mutter. It's the only coherent response I can think of to say. Anna doesnt' mind, though. She's already use to my vague answers. She continues to ramble on.
"He based the story off of you guys, right? So that means some of it was true?" She asks softly, "Like him leaving you after your mom died?"
I swallow roughly and instantly tense. I tightly grasp the wooden handle of the brush in my hand like it's my lifeline. "No, none-"
She cuts me off. "You're lying. Cliff already told me it was true."
"Then why bother asking?" I spit bashfully, turning to gaze at her. She flinches.
"I wanted to see if you'd lie to me again," She whispers faintly. "I thought you'd tell me the truth this time around me. For what reason? I don't know. You never tell me anything. Like about your dad and how you always lied to my mom about how he was coming to pick you up."
Cliff told her about my dad now too?
I narrow my eyes at her, "Cliff told you about my dad too?"
She scoffs, "Someone had to, because you wouldn't."
"It's no one's business-" Again, she cuts me off by standing and pointing an accusing finger at me.
"No, it's not only your business! Because I thought we were best friends, because I thought we told each other everything, like how your dad is some drunk and how your mom is six feet under-"
I cut her off when I throw my brush on the ground and step forward, seething with rage. "Don't you ever, ever talk about my mom. You have no right to even mention her. Not my dad either. You know nothing about them!"
"Then help me understand!" Anna shouts, "For all I know, all the things you bothered to tell me could have been lies too. Were they lies, Ronnie?"
I'm silent. Mainly because I'm shell shocked at the question that sounds more like an accusation. And by the tears in her eyes. That's when I know this isn't just another one of our petty fights that we'll get over.
Because Anna never cries. Never. She's always cheery and happy and forgiving. She only cries when it's about something serious or she's hurting. In this case, it's both reasons. And I can't help the ache that rises in my chest with just seeing that I've caused her pain.
"I thought we told each other everything," She echos from earlier, much softer now. A tear slips from her eye as she says this. "I thought we were truthful and could find trust in each other because we were best friends. So when I found out you were lying to me, I got angry. And I said some hurtful things. But I won't take them back, Ron. I won't apologize. You lied. You lied about Adam and Liam. You lied about possibly everything." She let's out a shaky breath and wipes away at another onslaught of tears that pound down her face. "All I ask is why? Why did you lie?"
My throat feels dry and tight. I don't know how to respond. I can't, even if I wanted to. The only reason I lied to her was for the pack. Because that would expose me and them too. It is a law, you know. I wasn't even supposed to begin hanging out with Anna. Because she's human and that would only risk our secret.
I can't tell her anything right now either. So I remain silent and wonder what to do. She doesn't give me enough time.
She shakes her head at me and smiles sadly with glassy eyes. "I don't know why I bother. You obviously won't say anything," She laughs humorlessly. "You're right. I don't know anything about your parents. Guess I don't know anything about you either."
And for the first time ever, I'm not the one to walk off and leave the other person behind. Anna does it. She picks up her shoes and bag and she leaves, not glancing back at all. It hurts more then ever.
For the millionth time that day, another sigh leaves my lips as I stir around my latte and numbly pick at the oatmeal muffin that has gone cold.
I've been doing this since I arrived at the small bakery, occasionally sharing a half-hearted smile with the fray old women who runs the place. She comments every now and then, saying how muggy it's been outside lately. I only nod and mutter an agreement. She turns away when she realizes my mind is in another place and I don't want to be bothered. I'm grateful for that.
My troubling thoughts seem to consume me. Like always.
So all I do is stare out of the foggy window, watching my dad kick rocks and talk on the phone, while replaying Anna's words in my head.
Like any other problem I don't want to deal with, I try to push them away and simply forget about this evening. And Anna's shouts of frustration. But I can't. Her words and tears are burned permanently into my mind. It's because I know this isn't just some stupid fight.
Anna and I have fought before, surely. But it hasn't been about anything serious. Just about what clothes I should wear and how I need to be more social, and other things that Anna forgets about the next day. We've always made up. Mainly because Anna is the first one to apologize and gush about how she should of never forced her beliefs on me so strongly. I accept her apology each time and she makes me promise that we'll never fight again. Though we know we will.
We laugh it off either way. And then the next day we're okay again. Talking and laughing, with Anna briefly commenting on how cute Adam's butt is. Was it weird to say I was gonna miss that?
Anna won't apologize. I know that. She had said it herself. And I know she doesn't expect me to suck up my pride and tell her everything.
I can't even tell her I'm sorry. Because she'll expect an exclamation I can't give. And I've never hated Cliff more for telling.
I'm so tempted to march right over to his house and pound his face in. My life is none of his business, and he shouldn't go around telling people. Not even Anna.
I hate Cliff, I hate Mandy, I hate Jessica, I hate-
Wait.
Who is that?
My train of thought stops as I watch a tall figure - who appears to be a girl by the long hair flowing behind her - running across the street and straight into my father's arms.
He wraps his arms around her the moment she leaps onto him and wraps her lean legs around his waist. She buries her head in his neck for a minute, then pulls away and presses a chaste kiss to his lips.
I'm pretty sure my heart stops right then.
Without even thinking, I stand up and rocket out of the bakery to get a better look at this chick.
I cross the street, ignoring the honks of the cars and the shouts for me to get off the road and how I'm going to get myself killed. I don't care frankly.
Once I near close enough, I stop and simply watch in horror as she get's off of him, but keeps her arms latched around his neck and presses another kiss to his lips. He doesn't object, of course. He instead tangles his fingers in her golden blonde hair. And I suddenly feel sick.
It get's worse when she pulls back and exclaims excitdely, "I missed you!"
My dad chuckles as he gazes down at her. "I saw you two days ago."
She flashes him a beautiful smile, about to say something when she glances over in my direction, her light eyebrows furrowing in confusion.
My dad follows her gaze.
Though he doesn't look shocked or confused. He actually smiles. Smiles. "Ronnie, there you are."
"Ronnie?" The women echos, now putting space between her and my father. "This is your daughter?"
My dad nods and grips her hand, pulling her along until they stand before me. And now that she's so up close, I realize just how pretty she is with golden blonde hair and kind green eyes. She's like a super model. Tall, skinny, beautiful. And I ultimately decide I don't like her already.
"Yeah," My dad finally answers her previous question. "Ron, meet Tara Billard. Tara, meet Ronnie Mars."
Tara.
I probably should have realized that this was the Tara my dad was talking about when she threw herself on him, but whatever. I was too panicked at the sight of my father kissing another women that wasn't my mom.
"Ronnie, it's so nice to meet you." She sticks out her hand to me with another, stupid, breathing taking smile. All I do is stare at her out stretched hand.
She reclines her arm when she realizes I'm not going to shake it and be as polite as her. My dad clears his throat awkwardly. "Well, now that we're all here, why don't we have that dinner we were talking about?"
Tara is perfect. Bloody perfect.
Perfect to the way she laughs, smiles, talks, even eats. She's perfect with education. She perfect with looks. Perfect, perfect, perfect.
The whole time during dinner I try to pick out some flaw I can at least hate her for. But no. She's flawless.
She's kind and funny, and she never once gave me an ugly look or anything. Instead she flashes her perfectly white teeth at me and grins just about every second.
She talks about her job for some part of the dinner. Explaining how she's a second grade teacher and how it has it's perks. She also discusses her family and briefly the story of how her and my father met.
Apparently, they met in a bar. Real romantic.
I snort, quite rudely, when she tell's me this. Of course, right when I do, a frown etches her pretty little face while my dad simply shakes his head and tell's her to continue. She quickly recovers her smile and continues on, though I'm not the least bit interested.
I find that I can't her. Not even if I tried real hard. Because there's nothing to hate her for. I mean, she's a second grade teacher for God sake! She even tutors kids with down syndrome on the weekend!
As said before, she's perfect. And loving. And compassionate about other's feelings. And it makes me feel sick.
The whole time I find myself comparing her to my mom. Which really isn't good. Because my mom never tutored the mentally challenged. Nor did she go to Church every Sunday and pray to be forgiven for her sins like Tara does.
I find that Tara and my mom are two completely different people. It's not what I expected.
I thought my dad might chase after a women that reminded him enough of my mom. Maybe to ease the pain that way. But clearly not.
And it get's worse when I notice that my dad has fallen deeply for this women. You can see it by the way he gazes at her, and the way she gazes at him. Like their having their own private little conversation. Basically, I'm the awkward third wheel here. Though Tara does her best trying not to make me feel that way. By asking me subtle questions. Never getting to personal.
That is, till it comes to college and what I want to be.
"What do you think you'll major in? Have you figured out what college you want to go to?" She asks.
I shake my head hesitantly. Even if I wanted to, I can't go to college because I might possibly be mated to Adam and stuck in this horrible town.
Of course, I can't say this, so I resort to a simple, "No."
"Oh," She mumbles, "Well, do you have any hobbies?"
"No."
My dad scoffs, "Yes you do."
I send a glare in his direction. "No. I don't."
My dad ignores me, though, and shifts in his seat towards Tara. "Ronnie paints."
"Paints?" She repeats, her green eyes flickering over to me. "So you're an artist?"
"No. It's nothing." Nothing I wanna share with you, anyway, I add mentally.
"Yes she does," My dad nods with a coy smile. "She's good too. She got into a exhibit, actually. The Young Artist one."
My eyebrows furrow, "How'd you know that? I never told you."
"Adam told me."
I tense immediately at the mention of Adam. And the fact that my dad and Adam actually talk to one another. Not even when Adam and I were friends did my dad acknowledge his presence.
For some reason, this sparks Tara's curiosity. "Adam? Who's he?"
"Ronnie's.. boyfriend." My dad answers awkwardly. Tara beams.
"You have a boyfriend?" She questions, "Oh, I should have expected that. You're such a beautiful girl!"
I shake my head and narrow my eyes at my dad. "Adam's not my boyfriend."
Now Tara is confused.
"Of course he is," My dad argues.
I shake my head and blurt, "Adam's not my boyfriend. Liam is."
My dad freezes at the name and extracts his arm from around Tara's shoulder, leaning closer to the table and staring me straight in the eye. "Liam? As in Liam Farley?"
I don't reply. Instead, I avert my eyes to the ground and wonder why I said anything. I should have just went along with Adam being my boyfriend. But I couldn't help. Just the word 'boyfriend' and 'Adam' in the same sentence creeps me out. As badly as the word 'mate' and 'Adam' too.
We're all silent for a long period of time. Until Tara chirps, "Well, who's up for dessert?"
I'm overwhelmed with relief when my dad drops me off by home and I'm able to return home solely. So I don't have to deal with the onslaught of questions I know my dad is dying to ask.
I had a feeling Tara was saving me from that when she asked if he'd like to come over back to her place and watch a movie. He was reluctant at first, mainly because he wanted to have a private conversation with me, but agreed when she badgered him about it.
I trudge my way home slowly, not even beginning to rush when the cold somehow finds it's way into my jacket and chill's my bones.
By the time I see my house in sight, I'm shivering.
I tug on my beanie as I round my way to the steps, only stopping to glance over at the Beckett's house. I do a double take when I see something move out of the corner of my eye.
I find that it's Alpha Beckett. Who stands with his arms behind his back as he gazes at me with cold and calculating eyes. A shiver ripples up my spine. And I'm sure it's not from the cold.
And then there's this emotion that I can't read in his eyes again. Though I'm sure it's not good when he suddenly turns and enters his house. The door slams loudly behind him, echoing into the once silent and almost peaceful night.
I move into my own home as well, quickly tugging the curtains closed and about ready to lock myself in my room when I spot a mug on the table.
The same white mug that Alpha Beckett had drank from when he blackmailed me. The same white mug that I was so sure I discarded the moment right after he left.
I edge closer to the table and find myself staring right into the pure black coffee in the cup. And then I swat if off the table. Not even flinching the mug shatters loudly and the coffee taints the once clean floors.
I find out exactly why Alpha Beckett was in my house the next day. Why he glanced so ominously at me just the night before.
It's when I arrive to school that it becomes clear.
There's sirens and horrific screams and cries of pain when I enter the parking lot. And for some reason, I find myself in a blur of panic as I fight my way through the crowd. Only to catch a glimpse of long blonde hair and oddly twisted and bloody limbs.
The police officer tell's everybody to get back, but I'm not listening. All I can do is stare at the familiar girl on that stretcher as they load her into the back of the amubalance.
For a brief second, my eyes find Adam's somewhere in the crowd. They hold so much pity and sorrow and grief. And I know immediately who has caused this. Alpha Beckett. He's caused this because he knows about Liam and I. He knows.
A hoarse cry breaks from my lips and I try to fight my way to her. I thrash and I scream her name at the top of my lungs. Many students try to restrain me, but it doesn't work.
Nothing does.
I manage to get close enough to see her again.
Her brown eyes are wide and open as they stare into nothing. They're vague. Blank. Lifeless. And it makes me scream at the top of my lungs in horror.
Because she's my best friend. Because she's the girl I swore to protect from Alpha Beckett. Because she's the girl who trusted me with her secrets and insecurities while all I gave her was lies.
It's Anna.
--------
POW!
- CeCe.