21. Chapter 21

21

Hope

"I can't believe it. Why didn't you tell me you were going to skip school?" Marie asks.

We're sitting in her car, eating ice cream and watching the sunset in an empty parking lot. I've told her about how I skipped school with Heath, but not why. I wouldn't be able to share that. I had a panic attack in the middle of the street. Luckily there weren't many people around, otherwise, they'd think I'm a lunatic. It was embarrassing.

"I didn't know how to," I murmur.

"Why not?" she asks softly.

I swirl the spoon in the melting ice cream, wishing it was easy for me to talk about myself. To say the words that wouldn't sit like rocks on my tongue waiting to be let out.

The situation at home is a burden I'm carrying every day. I don't want others to bend under the weight of it. Knowing Marie I know she'll worry about me, and I don't want her to. I like the way she shines so brightly. My sadness diminishes under the light of it. When I'm with her a stream of happiness flows through me.

I stare off at the view. "I've never shared things with anyone. Before you, I didn't even have a friend. So, keeping things to myself is all I know." I meet her concerned gaze. "I'm sorry if that bothers you. It wasn't—"

She waves her hand. "Don't say sorry. Before you I didn't have any friends either. Well, a girlfriend, I mean. Sebastian is my best friend and Heath too, but sometimes only girls understand girls, you know." I nod and she continues, "I know how to talk about my feelings or stuff because Sebastian taught me that any secret is safe between friends. However, we're new to each other, so it's fine. Just remember I'm here for you today, tomorrow, and always."

Today, tomorrow, and always. My heart swells inside my chest. Even when it's hard for me to believe those words, I try to lock them away. Perhaps someday when I'm ready I can talk to her .

"I'm here for you too. Today, tomorrow and always." Tears fill my eyes, but I keep them at bay. It's surreal that I'm not alone anymore.

"Don't make me cry." Leaning over, she embraces me in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry." I tighten my arms around her.

"Don't be," she assures me with confidence.

Moving back, she wipes her eyes. "So, you and Heath make bracelets, huh?"

"Yes."

Marie reaches for her ice cream that has melted into a puddle. "I feel like I'm in a dream world where that happens."

I laugh. "It's quite real."

"Tell me more."

"He helps me with the marketing aspect, drives me to the post office, and helps me in any way that he can." A smile grows on my face.

"This is so sweet."

"It is," I say, "Now we're friends,"

Her hazel eyes grow big, and she shrieks in joy. "Oh my! You're friends. That's great. I'm so happy. My ship is sailing."

"What?"

Does she ship me and Heath? We don't have feelings for each other. He is just my friend—who makes my heart race—and I assume he considers me just the same. He doesn't ever look unsettled when he's with me. I'm a mess when I'm with him. Not because I'm nervous. It's a mixture of giddiness and excitement. The kind I read about in books.

His proximity, blue eyes, voice, touch, and every other little thing lingers in my head long after we part ways. I've started to think about him more than my fictional characters, which is a first.

Marie gasps. "What ship? I didn't say any ship. I meant my shell is sailing. You know how seashells get carried away in water. That's what I meant."

I know she's covering up, but I don't call her out.

I close the door behind me with a smile on my face.

I have friends.

Not fictional ones, but actual ones.

A warm feeling stirs inside of me, and my smile widens to the point my cheeks hurt.

"What the fuck are you smiling about?" The sharpness in his tone pierces through me.

My body whips around and my smile drops faster than an object falling through free fall.

Dad takes a step forward. "Where the fuck were you today?" He stares at me with such authority and power. For once, he's sober, still the way he's looking at me is similar to when he's intoxicated—there's not a trace of love or affection.

"Out with friends," I say in a feeble voice.

He frowns like it's a ridiculous excuse. "Friends? You don't have any fucking friends, Hope."

"Things have changed," I say.

Striding forward, he backs me up against the door. Air knocks out of my chest and gets lost in the cloud of tension between us. In seconds, my hands are shaking, and tremors are running up and down my arms. I start panicking.

I just want to go to my room.

"You're a liar," he spits out in anger.

"No, I'm not. I do have friends now," I mumble, looking into his dark eyes that swallow most of the white. It's a frightening sight.

"I've known you since you were a kid. You've always been a loner. No one talks to you."

"That's not true." Telling him about Marie is at the tip of my tongue.

"Your mother was the same. She didn't have anyone aside from me."

My eyes widen at the information. "I was out with friends. I swear."

Dad wraps his hand around my neck and presses my head against the door with a thud. Pain shoots like tingles in the back of my head. That. Hurt.

Closing my eyes, I hold back my tears. I refuse to cry in front of him. I don't want him to think I'm weak. That he holds any power over me.

He does hold power over you. A small, scared voice whispers.

"Don't lie to me, you bitch!" He squeezes my throat, enclosing my air column on the verge of collapsing.

I wheeze like a dying animal for its last breath.

"Ple-please," I beg him as my hand holds his big one.

For a moment, I think my touch will bring him back—he'll let me go.

I only learn how stupid I am.

He squeezes harder and my head starts to get dizzy. His voice is distant as he talks, my ears hardly register a word.

Dots appear in front of my eyes. I'm seconds away from passing out.

Flashbacks from today run through my mind. I realize how serene I felt with Heath when we were on the hill. I told him things I've never told anyone. I shared a part of me, even though it was a very tiny one. I talked to him like friends do. I let myself be vulnerable.

I felt safe with him. Exactly what I don't feel right now.

"…lie to me again," Dad spits those words in my face and lets me go.

I sink to the floor and hold my aching throat. I open my mouth and try to breathe.

I hear footsteps receding and the television playing loud in the living room. The path to my room is clear now. I sneak into my room and throw on the door bolt for safety.

On the bed, I curl on one side and let the hot tears fall down my cheeks.

Time is a distant thought as I cry my heart out and empty the wells behind my eyes. Once I'm done my pillow is soaked, and my cheeks burn from the sting of the salt streams. If that's not enough, I have an excruciating headache.

Out of nowhere, Heath slips into my mind. His blue eyes, muscular body, tall height, and beautiful face. He's so handsome but in a grumpy way. He only ever scowls, smirks, and smiles—those are tight-lipped smiles that don't count. I've never heard him laugh or seen him happy. He's always cold and distant like he's mad at the world.

I should stay away from a guy like him. A guy who skips classes, smokes, fights at an illegal place, and is always mad. Despite all those reasons, he's the one I feel safe with. He's the one I can talk to, and he listens to me. When I'm having a panic attack he helps me instead of leaving me. I'm a nobody at school, but he makes me feel like somebody.

Maybe I'm losing my mind or gaining feelings for him. I don't know what it is. All I know is, something is there.

Safety. Comfort. Friendship.

When I thought of setting up a small business I knew I'd land nowhere. I don't have a good camera to take pictures with or know how to do social media. Then Heath stepped in, and he's helped me in every way that he can. Also, he encourages me.

One thing is for certain. If he weren't there for me, I'd have failed miserably.

I don't pay him. Maybe I should. He deserves to have a proportion when he tackles every aspect. I know he won't take my money. He doesn't even let me pay for food.

At the reminder of food my stomach grumbles.

Looks like I'm skipping dinner again. There's no way I'm going downstairs.

I caress the side of my throat and wince when I imagine the marks I'll find there in the morning.

I can't go to school tomorrow, but I also can't stay at home.

Heath will ask me questions, Marie will worry about me and Sebastian will watch me quietly. They'll know something is up. I have no idea how I'll avoid their suspicions.

Maybe it's time I invest in makeup. I believe it'll become a regular thing in the coming months.