Page 13 of Breaking Emilee

Once again, my mouth works without my permission. “Won’t your friends miss you if you stay here?” Shit, what is wrong with me that I can’t stop pushing this topic? He stops moving with his burger halfway to his mouth. “Shit, sorry,” I rush out while quickly resuming looking over my homework. I’m staring at my paper but not seeing anything written on it. The blush worsens when he places one of his hands over mine. I glance up to see him shrug his shoulders again.

“Don’t be. I want you to be comfortable enough to say whatever is on your mind around me. They aren’t my friends Em. I wish they would leave me alone, but they won’t.”

“Oh,” I can relate to that feeling, but I won’t ever say that.

He continues, squeezing my hand, “To be honest, I don’t like Vanessa or Christian. I’m nice to them and don’t tell them to take a hike off the nearest cliff because I promised my aunt. I haven’t liked either since the first day I met them…”

Now it’s my turn to raise my eyebrows because I’m confused. I thought he lived with his mom, “Your aunt?” For the first time since we met, he’s the one that looks down at the table, not me. He looks embarrassed, and I have no idea what to do with that look on him.

After a minute, he looks back at me but doesn’t start eating again. It looks like he’s battling something inside of him. His hand is still on mine, so I flip it over and give him a little squeeze hoping it tells him that I won’t judge whatever he is about to say. I guess it does because he finally talks. “Yeah, my aunt is dating her uncle and has become good friends with Vanessa.”

“I thought your mom is the one that is dating Mr. William?” I ask because now I’m baffled. His face goes beat red, and I wish I could reach out in front of me and shove the words back into my mouth.Why couldn’t you just leave it the fuck alone?

Before I can change the subject, he says something that tears my heart out of my chest “My mom dropped me off with my aunt when I was five and never came back for me. A kid cramped her style.” I can hear the sadness in his voice. My eyes tear up, but I blink multiple times to keep them in. As someone whose parents are shit, I know he doesn’t want my pity.

Squeezing his hand “What about your dad?” Once again, he just shrugs.

“I don’t even know his name. He could walk past me, and I wouldn’t even know.”

“Sounds like my sperm donor, who I have never laid eyes on.” I want to take that hurt look out of his eyes, so I say the only thing that has ever made me feel better.

“Sometimes our parents don’t know how to be parents, but that’s not your fault. It doesn’t say anything about you. It’s not your fault Parker. You know that, right? It says more about your aunt than anything. She must be a great person to take you in. She has done an amazing job raising you. Look how you turned out, talking to the weird girl when no one else seems to notice her.” Something I must have said hits home because he pulls his hand away from mine, leaning back and crossing his arms over his chest. The sad look is gone from his eyes, and now it looks like he wants to thank me for understanding but yell at me for putting myself down again. I already figured out that he hates when I do that, but it’s a habit. I always say what someone else thinks first, so it hurts less when they finally say it.

Our stare-off is broken when his phone buzzes in his pocket, and he looks down to see who is messaging him. He shakes his head and puts it back in his pocket with a sigh. I know who it was without even having to look at it, Vanessa. It’s like reality slaps me in the face, my heart starts to race, and my palms begin to sweat. What am I doing? I can’t go through with this, being around him, not when they have made it clear my life will become ten times harder. His voice cuts through my racing thoughts. “You’re not fucking weird, and the other people are stupid for not noticing you,” he says, locking his eyes with mine again. I’m torn between believing him and not, so I stay quiet, trying to figure this out in my head.

I know he’ll have to go soon because he has to get on the bus. The fact that I don’t want him to leave scares me, but I’m slowly coming to terms with the fact that I can’t stop myself from falling. I’m not sure I want to change it the more time I spend with him. “What time does your bus leave?” I ask while picking up my forgotten sandwich.

“In like five minutes, so I should be going. I just wanted to see you again before I left.” He says, picking up his half-eaten lunch, and I instantly feel horrible. I shouldn’t have brought Vanessa and Christian up because it made him unable to enjoy his lunch or even eat it all.

“Leave it. I’ll throw it away on the way out,” I offer. “Parker, I’m sorry I brought up a topic that hurt you. That’s not what I meant to do.” I say, looking down because I can’t meet his eyes.

He comes around the table and bends down, lifting my head up. “Hey, it’s okay. You didn’t know. While it does still hurt, just not as much as it did. Plus, I want to be able to talk to you about important stuff like that. So don’t you worry about it.”

All I can do is nod, which must be enough for him because he stands up and heads toward the door. He’s halfway across the room when I remember I don’t know where to go after school. “Parker,” I call out, stopping him. “Where’s your house?” I ask. While he looks confused at my question, I continue, “So, I can meet you there after school if you still want to work together?” I can tell when he finally understands what I’m asking because a small smile spreads across his face.

He lets out a little laugh, then answers, “Of course, we are still working together, and you are not going to meet me there. I’m going to drive us there, you know, on my bike.”

“Parker, I can’t,” I say, shaking my head.

He just looks over his shoulder, smiling at me, and says, “Yes, you can, and you will. See you later, Butterfly,” and then he’s gone.

He leaves me sitting here speechless and freaking the fuck out. I can’t get on the back of his bike. First, I have never ridden a motorcycle, and second, I don’t want him to be seen with me. Can someone my size ride something that small? Why can’t he just tell me where he lives? Does he not know that he’s making this far more difficult for me? For the rest of my lunch period, I internally freak out, trying to find a way around this. I can’t just walk there because I don’t know where I’m going. I’m afraid of what Vanessa and Christian will do if they see me with him. Fuck it. By the time the lunch bell rings, my mind is made up. I’ll just get on the bus and go home. I can always tell my grandparents something came up, and we couldn’t study tonight. I’m sure they won’t mind. More time for me to be their slave anyways.

I feel better knowing that I now have a plan, so I pick up my half-eaten lunch and his throwing it away before heading down to my fifth hour class. Turning left out of the library, I head down the hall, but I don’t make it very far before someone grabs me and pulls me down the hallway leading to the student parking lot. My head hits the wall by the outside door in less than a second. God damn it, is all I can think before someone is in my face. Blinking away the stars I’m seeing, I can finally tell who is standing in front of me, Vanessa. It’s no surprise, but I’m still not ready for it.

“Why were you walking with him this morning, pig,” she says, her spit flying in my face. I don’t move to wipe it off because I know it will do no good. She isn’t going to back up anyways. She shoves me again, and my head hits the concrete behind me harder than last time. A shooting pain takes off, and my vision spins once again. “I warned you to stay away from him, didn’t I? I told you that he is mine. What part of that don’t you understand? You are so fucking stupid. I know you called him last night because I heard him say your name. You know he laughed at you when he got off the phone, right? He’s just playing you like I asked him to,” she says, pushing me against the wall more. Damn it, if the pain from her last sentence doesn’t hurt me more than the pain in my head.

“Maybe this will be a good reminder,” is the only warning I’m given before she pulls her hand back and snaps it forward, bringing it across my face. It stings, but I won’t let them see me cry. Even though tears swim in my eyes, I hold them back. They will not get them. She can hit me as hard as she wants, but I can’t crumble. I won’t even ask her to stop. She slaps me twice, each getting harder than the one before until the last time. Her fist is what connects with my face. The only thing that stops her is the sound of the second bell rings.

Stepping back, she spits, “Stay the fuck away from my man,” before turning to leave. Christian finally steps up from where he’s leaning against the wall, watching her assault me, takes his soda, and opens it. Warm liquid runs down my head, landing on my shoulders. Christian stands in front of me, holding his empty soda bottle with an evil smile.

He grabs my bag, pulling me to him, ripping it in the process “Fat bitch”. He sneers at me as he follows her out into the main hallway.

Sliding down to the floor, I try to catch my breath and wait for the tardy bell to ring. No one uses this door until the end of the day, and it’s dark, so no one can see me from the main hall. Once the bell rings, signaling class has started, I push myself up, grab my ripped bag off the floor, and take off to the nearest bathroom. I’m about to lose it and don’t want to do it in the hallway. Shoving the door open, I start pacing in front of the sinks. Why do they continue to do this to me? I have no friends, and no one pays me any attention. So technically, they have gotten what they wanted, right? When will they stop, when I have had enough, and finally end it all? My mind replays everything she said to me, and I stop in my track. Wait, what did she mean he laughed at me when we got off the phone last night?

My mind races and my breath is coming out in spurts. I have to get myself under control because I need to go to the office, or the school will call my grandparents to let them know I’m missing. Fuck. Turning to look at myself in the mirror, I decide to get the soda out of my hair before leaving. Turning on the water, I stick my head under the stream. I don’t have time to use hand soap to help. Sighing, I give up and turn the water off, using the paper towels to try to dry my hair. Fuck it, I pull the still wet hair into a ponytail. I have to face the punishment waiting for me for being late.

My punishment was being sent to AEP (Alternative Education Program), which is like detention. Walking in, I place my slip in the basket and pick up the rules. I have to write them three times each. Sitting down, I pull out a sheet of paper and a pen. My heart’s still racing, not slowing down, and it feels like it’s trying to jump out of my chest. Only one thing will help, pulling my bag to my lap, I reach into the front pocket and pull out the black case. Putting it on the desk, I slowly unzip it, so the noise isn’t too loud. The one rule here is no talking, so it’s very quiet.

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