Unexpected- Chapter 25

Hell to Pay

“You know she’s just going to come in here when you’re asleep, right?” I mumbled to Kellan, who sat lazily on the couch with his head back, rubbing his eyes in frustration. His beer sat on his knee and his hair was flat on one side from napping the evening away. His breath reeked of garlic as he sighed in my face, the memory of a happy dinner with Felicity flooding my mind.

“I just don’t know about this. Turn my cheek while my seventeen-year-old brother is sleeping with his girlfriend? That’s just crazy! What kind of impression am I making on her? And what if you start to think you can just get away with anything?” I rolled my eyes to counter his frustration.

“I’m not ‘sleeping’ with her.” The stress I put on the word “sleeping” made it obvious what I meant. “Look, paper thin walls with the door open, or let me sneak in there at two in the morning and get no sleep at all. I’m exhausted Kellan, please!” He contemplated my proposal for a few minutes before shaking his head. I stood behind the couch, leaning against the hard backing.

“Whatever, I guess.” He flailed one hand in the air in surrender. “I don’t like this at all! You sure as hell better stay in line, or else you’re sharing a bed with me!”

“Thanks.” I mumbled as I walked back to our room. I managed to actually win a battle for her for once. 

Felicity rested on her side with her arms over the covers. Her hair splayed across my pillow and behind her, letting the moonlight hit her exposed neck and shoulders. The lights were off so I assumed she was already asleep. I slipped under the covers after shutting the door, despite Kellan’s request, and pulled her closer to me. She shifted her weight to press her back against my chest. Since I assumed she was already asleep I lowered my head to her ear, hoping that she would somehow hear me despite consciousness. I whispered, “I love you,” and grinned in satisfaction when her eyes opened and a small smile spread across her ruby lips. She tightened one dainty hand around mine and sighed.

“Say it again.” My mind exploded in chaos as she half whispered the words, sleep making them slur, and lack of substance making them rushed.

“I love you.” I mumbled and kissed her cheek almost at the same time.

A few minutes later she fell asleep.

Felicity woke before me. She kissed my forehead, crawled across me, and then went to the kitchen to make breakfast. It almost made me laugh the way she is only content when others are cared for.

I stood from my bed and onto the cold wooden floors about half an hour after the smell of coffee and bacon drifted in. I dressed quickly and ran my fingers through my hair a few times. I love Adam Lazarra. He makes getting ready too easy.

Felicity had her hair pulled back and her hands wrist deep in bacon and eggs. I honestly couldn’t believe she had gotten up early just to make three unappreciative boys breakfast. Well, two unappreciative. I couldn’t be more thankful.

“Smells good.” I kissed her cheek as she sliced even intervals of sausage meat, surprising her. She jumped and shrieked as my lips brushed across her cold skin, causing her to cut her finger with the knife. A small drop of blood ran down the length of her hand and pooled at her wrist. “I’m so sorry!” I managed to get in while wrapping her hand with a dishtowel. Her cheeks turned a light shade of red in embarrassment.

“No, no, that wasn’t your fault.” The way she stressed “your” implied she knew exactly whose fault it was. Hers. 

“Here, let me help you.” I reached for the bandages in one of the cabinets by the refrigerator. She took one, giggling at the glossy batman pattern. In a matter of seconds her cheeks returned to their normal peachy color and a fake smile covered her lips.

“I made French toast.” She smiled that same fake grin while reaching inside the oven for a skillet that kept the finished product warm. She turned and took the food to our pitiful dining area, complete with four wooden chairs and a cool stone top, smiling as if she hadn’t just cut her finger open from being kissed on the cheek. She set out three plates and three coffee mugs, and then left to get ready for school. I stood in the middle of our kitchen, stunned and confused, repulsed by the sudden change in attitude from yesterday’s delightfulness.

 Kellan and James came out around the same time from the smell of food. They ate like animals, honestly unaware of who made it or maybe even what it was. I laughed at them after they devoured their food in a matter of minutes, while I still had three pieces of bacon, a piece of sausage, eggs, and a piece and a half of French toast left.

Felicity decided to spare my newly raging hormones today. She wore a fitted plaid button up with a black jacket and loose jeans, which still looked good on her, but not half as good as the dress she wore yesterday. Some could argue, but some don’t have to hold her and pretend they don’t find her attractive.

The scent of vanilla, honey, and almonds had been absent from her hair for the time she had been staying with me for the most part. Today I could smell it from my seat in History class, which she seemed almost relaxed in. I had made her a thermos of coffee and calmed her with nicotine on the way to school this morning. The scent of her hair was almost clouded with the musk of a cigarette, but I ignored that and focused on the familiar fragrance.

I convinced Felicity to go to lunch since she didn’t eat breakfast. She didn’t feel hungry for obvious reasons, and only ate a premade PB&J from the sandwich rack. James and Gavin sat with us, joking together while Felicity stayed quiet. But by the end of lunch I knew she was having a silent conversation with Gavin.  

My finished and completely lame horse-and-jockey picture earned tremendous praises from Mr. Plumb. He loved having me “branch out” to meaningless, emotionless work. Apparently I’m amazing at it. So now I get to paint a top secret AP-art’s-eyes-only portrait of a naked female. Chapter 11 of Fitzwilliam’s Art and Cinematography Handbook: Painting the Contours of a Realistic Human.

English was torturous. She seems to gravitate toward the exact point I’m looking at in the quad. Today she sat under the familiar tree with a Styrofoam cup of coffee she probably had flirted the fitness instructor into getting for her from the teacher’s lounge, and a book I had figured to be The Historian by Elizabeth Kostova. The thick book rested on her knees as she hungrily devoured each page, paragraph, sentence, word, and letter. I wasn’t paying attention when my teacher asked me some trivia question about the book we were currently reading. I answered without thinking, and then continued to focus on her as usual.

Class ended abruptly for me. When I saw the menacing red hair and expensive suit in the parking lot I ran. It seemed like my legs were attached to cement blocks, and no matter how badly I wanted to reach her, I would never be able to. I wouldn’t be able to keep her safe. My heart sped up to the point my chest hurt. How could he show his face here? How could he possibly think that for some reason he has a right to show up at her school?

James saw me dart through the art room, knocking over two easels and a skinny Asian girl. He didn’t know why. Felicity obviously didn’t know why either as I approached her as casually as I could beneath the cherry tree that wouldn’t blossom for months.

“Put your hair up.” I instructed before she knew I was there. I fell to my knees in front of her, looking to the parking lot every few seconds.

“What? Why?” I reached over to her before she could ask anything else. I ripped one of the three elastics from her wrist and pulled the cigarette-honey-vanilla scented hair up. She didn’t ask questions now, but she didn’t know why, either. I turned around quickly and saw the back of Satan’s head.

“Here.” I took my fitted navy sweatshirt off and slid it over her small frame. She gave me a confused expression but didn’t hesitate to slide it over her head. My worried expression was enough of an answer.  I pulled the hood up and tucked her hair back so none would stick out. I rummaged through her bag and shoved her glasses to her.

“Tristian, why are you playing dress up with me in the quad?” She laughed now, a nervous, humorless, laugh.

“Be quiet. Don’t look to your left. Come on.” My voice mimicked that of a dictator. I helped her up and snaked one arm around her waist. She look frightened now, so I pulled her toward the gym faster. I reached in my pocket for my cell phone and called Gavin.

“Do you know why he’s here?” Gavin said before I had the chance to ask him. He was standing in front of the academic building in his lacrosse uniform with the same frightened expression as me. I said no. “Take her to your car through the gym. I’ll go see what’s up. I’ll leave my phone on in my pocket, so listen.” The static of Gavin moving his phone to his pocket in such a calm manner made me nervous. Felicity’s shoulders were shivering now from not knowing what was happening, so I tightened my arm around her. Roger had never seen me, so disguising Felicity was my biggest worry. I opened the door to the gym and lead her through the maroon and grey boys’ locker room while catching strange glances from a few of the guys in there, including Michael and Jacob, although the boys’ locker room was used to female presence.

Gavin didn’t hear the slamming of lockers or showers. I’m glad, because he would have been upset with me for bringing her through this part of the gym, even if it were the fastest way to outside. Well, any other day than today. I held the phone tightly to my ear and listened for any voices.

“Hey, dad.” I finally heard after minutes of waiting by the door to outside. As soon as I did I opened the door, but kept disguised Felicity back. Roger had parked beside Gavin’s truck and was now leaning against it, his back facing us. I pulled Felicity’s hand and covered her mouth when she shrieked. She saw him and began backing back into the locker room.

“Shhh! He wont hurt you. I wont let him.” I still held my fingers over her mouth and pulled her from the gym. She resisted and thrashed against me, but I managed to get her to the car.

“What are you doing here?” Gavin said with forced casualness. I watched Roger from my rear view mirror. To get Felicity calm I put my cell phone on speaker so she would know what was happening.

“I just wanted to stop by and check on my baby girl.” Roger’s hands were on his hips, and the loud smacking of gum confirmed he was serious. Felicity listened with her body hidden from view. “I know she’s at school, so why don’t you go get her for me? I have a little surprise.” Gavin stuttered before speaking.

“Ugh, well she’s not here.” He finally managed to croak out. It seemed like he had gone over this with his father before, and actually told him why she left without saying where she was staying. A long pause passed. I made constant eye contact with Felicity until Gavin spoke again. Her eyes were wide and her hand rested on her neck. “Would you like me to tell her something?” He was nervous.

“No, no. I know she probably doesn’t want to see me, you’re right. Well, just give her this for me.” I watched through the rear view mirror as Roger handed his son a thick envelope.

“What is this?” Gavin mumbled as he scratched his head. Felicity bit her nails and listened as her father proceeded to hit her, emotionally this time.

“I sold a couple of her things. This is the money for it. You know, I hope she doesn’t mind.” Roger’s intensity and tangible bitterness frightened me from across the lot. Felicity gasped. And shot upright in her seat. She repeated muted mumbles of “no” over and over again, with tears threatening to escape.

“You sold her stuff? Why would you do that?” Gavin sounded hurt. I made out his features enough to tell that he was extremely upset.

“Just a couple things. Well, her car and her guitar. It was about time she got-“

His voice was cut off from a scream. Felicity’s hand covered her mouth and her eyes began to brim over with tears in a matter of seconds. I closed my phone quickly so that she wouldn’t have to hear the rest.

“Shhh, don’t cry!” I wiped the tears away with my thumbs and moved her glasses. She tried to speak but couldn’t force words out. He had sold one of the only possessions that knew her secrets. The only possession she honestly cared for, despite the new car parked in the driveway and designer clothes lining her overstuffed closet. “I’ll buy you fifty guitars! Just don’t cry!” I looked back to Roger and Gavin. They still spoke with hostile posture and tense expressions. Gavin held his arms across his chest and the envelope in one hand. Roger stared down at him without speaking.

“He sold it!” Felicity sobbed. “Of all the things he could do to me he- he-“ Her voice had almost died out. She closed her eyes and cried silently. Her hands were wrapped around my wrist that still cradled her face. My hoodie swallowed her whole and helped catch her salty tears.

I let go of her when I caught Roger’s stare as he walked in the direction of my car. I dug in my pocket for my keys and started the car, putting it into reverse as casually as possible for Felicity’s sake. My hood still covered her hair enough so that she couldn’t be discovered from his distance, which grew closer each second. I peeled out of my spot and cut in front of a person trying to get out.

Her tears began to slow down as we reached my house. She looked like a zombie. Her face was excruciatingly pale, but her eyes were bloodshot. She didn’t make a noise or breath hard, but kept an expressionless face and stayed silent. I pulled my hood down and flinched when she jerked away from me. She got out of my car and took my keys out of the ignition and with her. I grabbed her bag from the floorboard and mine from the backseat and followed after her. I was stopped when the door slammed in my face. I hurried and opened the door again, locking it behind me. The smell of cold coffee and cinnamon still lingered, and the house felt abnormally empty. I trudged through the living room back to my bedroom to find the door locked.

“Felicity let me in.” I said soothingly. I didn’t hear anything come from the other side. I reached above my door for the small gold pick and gently shook it into the hole in the middle of my doorknob. She didn’t make a sound when I entered the room.

But I did.

I made a loud, gasping noise.

Her head was slightly bent over a mirror as she cut the last of her three lines. A dollar bill was already rolled and ready to be used. Her lips twitched into a sad smile.

“Adam Lazarra asked ‘what’s it feel like to be a ghost?’ And you know what? It feels like shit.” I moved to the floor beside her. She looked up at me with hollow eyes, almost like there was nothing behind them. I brushed a piece of hair behind her right ear. “Don’t judge me, Tristian. I know this is horrible and wrong and yes, I’m an addict. I have a problem. Does that make me want it any less? Of course not.” I twisted the dollar bill out of her grasp and her mirror to the floor. She looked at me as if I were crazy.

“I’m not going to try to stop you. But I will say that I know you don’t need cocaine to feel better.” She rested her head on my shoulder and laughed once.

“Then what do I need? A shrink? A straightjacket? A mom?” Her eyes stayed empty, as they always were when she was forced to talk about something personal.

“I’m still working that part out.” I admitted. Nothing came to mind. When you honestly think about it, drugs seem like the perfect way to escape from demons. Forget your name forget your problems.

 “Did you know that I had that guitar since I was eleven? Gavin got it for Christmas. He didn’t want it because music shows ‘weakness’ in men. I couldn’t disagree more, but hey, I got the best thing that ever happened to me from it, and the best part? I just picked it up and felt like I knew how to play it. No, like I was supposed to. That guitar was the only one that I have ever played. I just left it there like an idiot!” Her face stayed expressionless despite the pain in her voice.

“You can take my guitars! Or tell me what model, what color, how much- just let me fix it.” Before I finished she was shaking her head no.

“That’s not the point Tristian! I ran away from home and he sold my things! He sold the most important inanimate object I have! It’s like he’s happy that I’m gone. My own dad didn’t want me to live with him. He didn’t even look for me when he realized I’m gone. God, I bet they’ve only had pizza for days. But no, he didn’t even ask Gavin to tell him where I am! He sold my stuff instead!” Her eyes stayed tightly focused on the skinny white lines by her feet. She shifted her gaze to me and sighed, reaching her hand up to my cheek. “I’ll be in a much better mood in a minute. Just let me do this and I promise I’ll make it up to you.” Her finger traced my lip. Of course, she would go and buy her irresistible self out of this with sex. I moved her hand away from my face.

“You don’t have to make anything up to me.” Defeat. I just can’t tell her no.

“Thank you.” Her lips pressed to mine for a fraction of a second before her hand jumped the few inches to her candy. She lowered her head over it and used the dollar bill from beside her in the floor. Despite my better judgment I held her hair out of the way as she ran her nostrils across the glass. She leaned her head back and pinched her nose, and then looked to me. “Do you want some?” She asked in the most innocent, shameful voice I had heard her use yet. I shook my head and decided to set a positive example. She finished the last two lines and cleaned up the powdery mess on the mirror, making sure not to look at her reflection.