Old Wounds: Little Battles Part 26

Again.

Tom cooked me stupid breakfast. Like oatmeal and blueberries would make him a good father. I burned myself on the d.a.m.n coffeepot again and almost broke it right there. Tom watched as I took my blood sugar, his brow all creased as if he were really interested.

My bag caught on something sharp on Tom's stupid front door, and the front pocket ripped about a half-inch. Just enough to p.i.s.s me off, but not enough to warrant a new bag. I forgot my hat, so after motioning to Elliott that I'd be just a minute, I went to get it. Coming back out, my gloves caught on the same sharp thing and snagged.

By the time I got in the car, I was ready to smoke a blunt and pop some Vicodin.

But Tom and Wallace had been serious when they pulled out that s.h.i.+t about rehab, and Tom was pretty adamant that he knew I was smoking pot, so I needed to stick with the s.h.i.+t that didn't smell and would be out of my system in a day or so.

I couldn't just go off looking for Aiden and leave Elliott to walk into school again by himself. I felt bad about yesterday, so I had to make sure that I didn't screw it up today too.

I got out of the car after he parked and waited until he got out too. The shock on his face stung, because I knew that I had hurt him by not doing this sooner.

I didn't want to hurt him.

So we walked into school together. It really wasn't a big deal, but it felt weird. The people looking at us were p.i.s.sing me off. I knew it was only like two people, but still.

Elliott's locker was on the other side of the building and usually we pa.s.sed each other going to first period, so I knew that his first cla.s.s was somewhere nearby. I had to go left to get to my locker, so this was as good a place as any to part.

"I'll see you."

He stopped just as I did. "W-w-will you ssssit w-with me in Ssssstudy Hhhhhall?"

I took in a breath. Chris was back in school and I couldn't very well sit at the same table as that a.s.shole anymore, but I wasn't exactly thrilled about sitting with Elliott's group. That seemed like a lot of pressure, and I didn't know them.

I knew Jane, but the others were just...

"Fine," I agreed, even though I would rather not sit with anyone at all.

"Sssee you," he said with a smile.

I turned and headed to my locker, growing more and more uneasy about the prospect of sitting with Elliott. I wanted to, but at the same time, I really, really didn't.

Before I got to my locker, an arm slipped around my torso and I gasped as I was drawn close to someone's body. For a split second I froze, unable to even breathe. That moment felt so very, very long.

"Sophie," he said in my ear, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

It wasn't the voice I normally heard.

I twisted in his hold and pushed him back. "Don't grab me, Aiden."

He smiled at me and removed his arm. I stepped away and went to my locker. "Do you have pills on you?"

He leaned against the locker next to mine and smiled. "Somehow I figured you might want some, so I brought a couple with me. Do you have money?"

I sighed. "Yes."

Aiden pressed his hand against my breast, his eyes l.u.s.tful. s.h.i.+fting away quickly, I grabbed my books and shut my locker. "Well, are you going to sell them to me or not?"

I looked up to find him smiling. "I've got some new s.h.i.+t too. You'll like it." He opened his hand to reveal a small bag of white fluffy powder. "It's a blend."

I didn't even care what it was a blend of, the majority of me wanted to s.n.a.t.c.h that little bag out of his hand immediately and inhale it as fast as I could.

But I didn't.

"I just want the pills."

He closed his hand and his smile s.h.i.+fted into a smirk. "All right. I was going to let you try it, but since you're not interested..."

"Maybe another time." s.h.i.+fting on my feet, I hoisted my bag up onto my shoulder. "Can I get those pills now?"

We went to the most spa.r.s.ely populated hall in the building and he sold me six Hydrocodone for twenty-five dollars. Before he walked away, he offered his new stuff to me again, but I declined once more and made my way through the school in antic.i.p.ation of the first bell. I could pop a pill in first period.

Some stupid freshmen boys were being loud and obnoxious in the hall, and I just wanted to get to my cla.s.s. My mind was preoccupied, trying to figure out how I could make phantom voices and touches go away, when I felt something very much corporeal palming my a.s.s.

I spun around and found one of the freshmen, a tall, skinny kid, just standing there, a dopey smile on his face, his d.i.c.k clearly half-hard in his jeans.

"What the f.u.c.k?"

"Sorry, I didn't know." He grabbed his crotch and adjusted himself.

My eyes narrowed. "Didn't know what? That your hand was on my a.s.s or that you were a complete waste who'll never get p.u.s.s.y acting like that?"

The a.s.shole beamed. "I didn't think you'd mind. Chris told everyone that you like it dirty. I figured you..."

He kept talking, but my mind and body froze.

Hot breath in my ear made me feel nauseated. The feeling of fingers on my face, a thumb in my mouth, nearly dropped me right there.

That's it, Sophie, be dirty for me.

Even though I saw the freshman moving his hand toward me, I was powerless to stop it.

But then he was gone and there was a loud noise to my right. My body finally complied with my brain's order to move, and I turned to see what it was.

I felt total confusion over the scene before me, because it was so out-of-the-ordinary that I had to be dreaming this s.h.i.+t up. I could see the back of Elliott's gray t-s.h.i.+rt as he held the kid against the locker by the neck with his forearm. The muscles of his arm were incredibly strained.

It took me a moment to process everything, but once I did, I somehow propelled myself forward until I was standing next to Elliott. He looked like he could kill that boy right there. I put one hand on his bicep, and the other on his shoulder.

"Elliott, stop," I said quietly. Nothing good would come from him hurting that kid, as much as I wanted him to. If he got caught beating someone else up, he'd probably get expelled, if not worse.

His jaw was clenched tightly, but I felt the muscles under my hands gently release. It was enough for the boy to sneak away, rubbing his neck. Elliott stood there paralyzed for a long time, even after the bell rang.

Body shaking, chest heaving, Elliott looked lost.

The hall was empty now. As I went to hold his hand, I absently wondered if his broken fingers felt any better.

"Elliott," I whispered after long moments of silence.

Finally he turned to me, sucking in a long but stunted breath. "O-o-okay?"

I took a step back, releasing my hold on him. "I'm fine. How about you?" I regarded him carefully as I remembered how he'd been looking at that boy. Elliott was staring at my hand, and just nodded. Moments later, he gently grabbed hold of my pinkie, leading me to my first period cla.s.sroom.

Just outside the door, he stopped, and pushed my hair away, brus.h.i.+ng his thumb over the four small indentations on my neck. "D-don't get hhhigh today, o-okay?"

I nodded against my will. Elliott smiled again and brushed my scar one more time, and then he was gone.

I tried not wanting to get high. I tried not getting high. Somehow I fell asleep in first period and woke with a start.

Nothing went right the rest of the day.

I spilled chemicals all over the darkroom in Photography. I said s.h.i.+t all wrong in Spanish, and I fell asleep again in Calculus.

I really needed to get some sleep, just not at school, and definitely not sober.

At the beginning of Study Hall, I stood outside the double doors to the library, my heart racing as I tried to think of a way to keep my promise to Elliott, but still block the a.s.sault of emotions that was pummeling me.

Something was very wrong with me. I didn't like it. I didn't like not being high. I didn't like feeling like this. I didn't want to keep going this way.

I couldn't bring myself to enter the library, and I hated myself for it. Elliott was expecting me to sit with him. The pills in my pocket were calling me, tempting me, burning me with the calm, the peace, the numbness they offered.

I sank down onto the floor and just sat there. I felt like s.h.i.+t. Like complete s.h.i.+t. I told him that I would sit with him and now I couldn't even go in there. He'd think this was about him like he always did, and maybe it was, I didn't know.

I'd told Brody that Elliott was my boyfriend. What the h.e.l.l was that about?

He would give me that look and it was going to make me feel even worse because he didn't deserve this s.h.i.+t. I should've been able to go in there and sit with him and not give a s.h.i.+t about anything because at least he was there with me.

But it was just too crazy inside my head.

This day was c.r.a.p and I just wanted to get high.

But I made a promise to Elliott that I didn't want to break.

It p.i.s.sed me off.

I walked toward Mr. Reese's greenhouse, but got sidetracked when I got all jittery and nervous. I wanted to go back to Tom's and sleep.

I barely made it to the bathroom where I threw up. It was only bile since I ate next to nothing for breakfast this morning. The bell rang, signaling the beginning of lunch. Splas.h.i.+ng water on my face and drying it with a thin, brown paper towel, I looked at myself in the mirror.

Unlike Andrea, whose mind distorted the image that she saw, I could see myself perfectly, and I hated my reflection.

My collarbone stuck out oddly on one side. My skin was too pale, my lips not full enough. My knuckles were too big, my eyes too hollow. Was there even a person left inside this warped body?

I stared at my eyes, but I couldn't do it for long.

I dropped my gaze and examined my cheekbone. Then I felt ghost touches and pinched my eyes closed. I could smell his breath and taste his skin, and if I had anything left in my stomach, I would have thrown up again.

Another bell rang. It must have signaled the end of the lunch period. Had I been in the bathroom that long? I forced my eyes open and washed my hands very thoroughly before sloppily taking my blood sugar and then exiting the bathroom. Elliott would be there with his wounded puppy face, and I would say sorry, and he would make it better for me.

When I got outside, I realized there was commotion in the hall. I was short and the crowd of people was tall, so I had no idea what the h.e.l.l was happening, although based on the response and the cheers, there was a fight going on. I spun around when someone touched my shoulder, and instinctively I pushed whoever it was away.

A finger curled around mine and I took a deep breath, looking up to find Elliott's worried expression. Just like before when looking into my own eyes, I couldn't look at him for long.

"Sorry," I mumbled. Someone pushed against my back, sending me closer to him, and I was suddenly in his arms, my head pressed against his chest as I breathed him in.

It took a long a minute for me to remember that we were in school and there were people all around us. And then I remembered there was some kind of commotion. "What's going on?" I asked as I stepped back.

He held onto my pinkie finger, tethering me to him, and peered over the crowd. Elliott was tall enough to see over most of us vertically challenged people.

"J-J-J-JJJJason," he said and then he stopped as his cheeks sort of ballooned out and his face got red. He pursed his lips and my heart ached for him, even as it ached more than enough for myself.

After a few seconds, he was able to continue. "C-CCChrissss."

"Jason and Chris?" I turned toward the commotion as if I'd be able to see anything. "They're fighting?"

He tugged on my finger and we walked away from the crowd. He led me around, taking me another, much quieter way to the greenhouse. Once inside and seated at our table, Elliott asked, "O-o-okay?"

I looked away because his beautiful concern was too much.

He didn't ask about Study Hall, and the fact that he didn't made me feel like s.h.i.+t. I knew he wanted to, but he kept his questions about my whereabouts to himself.

So far, I had kept my promise, but I wanted to get high so f.u.c.king badly. I could literally feel those pills in my pocket. While it was comforting to know they were there if I absolutely needed them, I hated them, just as I hated myself. They were such a temptation, and I felt myself losing my very thin thread of willpower.

It wasn't fair that he asked me not to get high today. This stuff in my head hurt, and I didn't want to feel it. The day had been horrible. First the breakfast with Tom, all f.u.c.king blueberries and burnt hands on the coffeepot, then ripping my bag and snagging my gloves. And Aiden's hand on my breast, and that boy's hand on my a.s.s. And his f.u.c.king voice in my head, whispering things I didn't want to hear.

I was angry at this whole stupid thing. There was no reason for me not to be high right now. Elliott and his stupid concern p.i.s.sed me off. I shouldn't have been concerned with his feelings. I had messed this whole move to Damascus all up.

I wasn't supposed to be surrounded by people who gave a d.a.m.n about what I did, and I certainly wasn't supposed to be all wrapped up in some guy and his emotions. The inevitable disappointment he'd eventually feel hurt me too. It wounded me, and yet at the same time it stoked the fire within me and made me angrier.

This was ridiculous. I could be high, but I wasn't. I was sober and sitting next to Elliott, waiting for cla.s.s to start, hoping that somehow that horrible voice would shut up, because I didn't want to be called a dirty girl right now.

I put my head down on the cold Formica table, extending my arms and wrapping my hands around the front edge of the table. I felt sick.

"SSSSophie?"

I ignored him because I didn't want to talk to him right now. I wasn't okay and I didn't want to see his puppy face when I said that I wanted to get high.

I could hear Mr. Reese speaking and I took a deep breath, because his voice gave way to another.

You're such a dirty girl, Sophie. Show me how dirty you can be and I won't tell your mother.

My eyes snapped open and I sat up straight. My stomach lurched as something warm wrapped around my left hand and I looked down.

Elliott was holding it.

I still couldn't look at him, but I squeezed his hand because this s.h.i.+t hurt.

I was supposed to go to P.E., but when Elliott turned toward the Administrative office, giving me a small lopsided smile as he went, I felt sick again. When I saw Aiden, I somehow made my way to the boy's bathroom with him. I hated the smell of men's bathrooms. There was nothing nastier than the smell of that urinal cake mixed with the pheromones of multiple men's p.i.s.s.