Page 25 of Breaking Emilee

Knowing I can stay is a relief. “I know, Aunt Luna, I just need… I don’t know a guy’s point of view, and Zak is the only one I could think of. I’ll be home Saturday, Okay?” I don’t dare look at Zak. I don’t want him to see that I’m embarrassed because he’s overhearing me be weak.

“Okay, bud, I’ll call the school and tell them you won’t be there tomorrow.”

“Thanks, and oh, please don’t tell anyone where I am,” I beg, hoping she will agree. I don’t need Vanessa finding out and coming up here.

“Sure, bud, I love you. Please be safe and call me if you need me.”

“I love you too, and I will, I promise,” I say, ending the call. I hold up a finger to stop Zak before he says one thing and pull up my messages. My head may be a mess, but I want to let my Butterfly know I won’t be there tomorrow. I feel bad and will probably worry about her, but I need to figure this out for myself, away from everyone.

Me: Hey, I won’t be in school tomorrow, and I won’t be home this weekend. I’ll work on the project, I promise, and will email you what I get done. I’m so sorry, Em. I’m going back to Cape. I need this. I have to get away. Please understand.

After hitting send, I look at my best friend and ask the question I don’t have the answer to, and I hope he will. “Do you think someone can find the love of their life at eighteen? I mean, the one that you can’t breathe, eat, walk, talk, or sleep without? The one that you would give anything to change their last name if they let you?”

“What the fuck have you done, Parker?” He stands up and heads into the house. “I’m going to need a beer for this conversation.” Sighing, I stand up and follow him into my second home.

“I think I may need one too.”

CHAPTERSIXTEEN

Friday wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. The day flew by. Before I knew it, the final bell rang, and I was headed home. It went back to the way it was before Parker showed up. I hid and kept my head down. I’m sure it wouldn’t have been so easy if Vanessa and Christian were in school today, but they were also absent. Them not being there was a blessing, but it also made me sick with worry. In his message, Parker said he was going to Cape, but in the letter that destroyed me last night, it said they always spend their free time together. Does that mean that he took them with him? I tried to message him throughout the day, but they all went unanswered.

Me: Is everything okay? What happened to make you run?

Me: I really missed seeing you in class today. I hope you are okay.

Me: Is Vanessa and Christian with you? They weren’t in school today either?

My nerves couldn’t handle it anymore, so I stopped trying to get him to message me until now. According to the clock on my phone, it’s just past midnight, and I can’t sleep. Tears flow down my face faster than my hands can wipe them away. Clicking on his name, I stare at the little green phone, but I’m too scared to call him. Accepting that I’m a chicken shit, I settle on trying to message him again.

Me: What did I do, Parker? Please tell me.

Since he won’t answer me to tell me what is going on in his head. My deprived mind comes up with the only logical reason for all this. He finally realized that I was not worth all the drama I caused. That I’m not worth the effort it takes to fix or love me. Even though it hurts me beyond measure, I’m okay with them taking everything away from me, but even the possibility that they have succeeded in taking him away is killing me. I can’t get through that betrayal, and that thought scares the shit out of me. How is it that he has come to mean so much to me? It has only been what ten days since I met him? Am I so desperate for attention that I’m latching on to the first person who has shown any toward me? No, I know the difference, and the way I feel about him is not because he’s the only one giving me attention. My eyes are getting heavier, giving in to the pull of sleep. The last thought that runs through my brain is the last time a guy meant the world to me. He turned on me and is now dead set on destroying me.

The blare of my alarm jars me awake. Rubbing my eyes, they are caked with crud from where my tears from crying myself to sleep have dried. I would give anything to spend today in bed all day. Isn’t that what normal teenagers do on Saturday? Not me, I will never be allowed that kind of freedom. Instead of laying in my blankets crying, listening to music, and just letting myself be depressed, I’ll be cleaning this house from top to bottom.

On top of that, I’ve never had an email from Parker about his part of the assignment. Looks like it’s all falling on my shoulders today as well. I can do the presentation in my sleep, but completing the two papers will be a little more complicated. I can handwrite my essay, but I’ll have to type up his paper. That way, neither of us gets in trouble, which means a trip into town. Did I forget to mention that we don’t own a computer? If I work hard, I can finish the chores and go into town this afternoon.

Pulling my phone out from under my pillow, I check to see if he messaged me or sent me an email. The no new messages and no new email notifications sting. What the fuck did I do so wrong? He can ignore me, but for him to bail on the assignment pisses me off, he knows I need a good grade. Feeling desperate, I try one more time.

Me: Parker, please, I need your work for the project before noon today.

I should leave it at that all about the project, but my heart wants to know what we did wrong, and only he knows. Feeling low and plain stupid, I type another message knowing I shouldn’t send it but accepting that I’m going to do it anyways.

Me: Why are you ignoring me? I’m sorry if all the drama in my life is too much. I promise I will find a way to stop it all. I can be a better person. Please, Parker, you are my only friend, and I don’t want to lose you.

My heart rate spirals out of control, my breaths come out in puffs, and an ache in my chest makes me wrap my arms around myself. I can’t afford to be a mess all day long. There is way too much shit for me to do. I have to do something to calm myself down. Dropping my head till my chin rests on my chest, I reach down between my mattress and bedspring. My hands feel the sharp, solid, and smooth wood of the small box that holds the only way I can think of to calm down. My promise to Parker sits at the front of my brain, but he fucking promised me too, so fuck it. Pulling the lid up on the black box, I pause, listening for any little sound saying someone is awake. Silence is the only thing I hear. Everyone is still asleep. That silence will soon be replaced with the sound of everyone getting ready for work. I need to hurry.

Pushing the sleeve of my shirt up, I push the razor into my skin and pull. Instantly, my breath evens out, my heart rate slows, and every thought leaves. I always forget about the sting after the short high, wincing I hiss. The thoughts start trickling back in as the pain dulls. Shutting my eyes, I repeat the process until the thoughts never return. Opening my eyes, I see six new cuts, blood running down my arms, landing on my black shorts. Grabbing the towel I keep in the box, I hold it to my arm, applying pressure. As the ringing in my ears slowly fades, the sound of footsteps heading toward my door makes me throw the box behind me and pull the cover over it. Throwing myself down on my left side, I put my left arm under the pillow hiding the towel that now had a blood spot.

Half a second after I lay down, my door flies open. “Emilee, why are you still in bed? Get up, young lady. I have a list of stuff I need you to do today, and being lazy isn’t on here.” My Nana says, crossing her arms. The look on her face tells me I have about two seconds to get my ass up before she yanks me from the bed. As I sit up, I make sure to pull the sleeve down over my arm. Thankfully the towel stays under the pillow. Swinging my legs out from under the cover, I sit on the side of my bed, looking at the floor.

“I apologize, ma’am. I woke up not feeling very well this morning.”

“We all wake up not feeling good sometimes, girl. You’re not special. If we can get up and go about our day, so can you.” She says, walking toward me and holding the list out for me to take. I take it and lay it on my lap. I don’t bother looking at it because what’s written on it isn’t important. She turns around without saying another word. I don’t want to keep having a conversation, but I need to ask about getting a ride into town.

“Ma’am, I need to ask you a question if you have time,” I spit out, stopping her as she is about to walk through the open door.

“I don’t have much time, girl. What is it?” I can tell she isn’t happy.

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