Page 27 of Breaking Emilee

“The project for English is due Monday, and we needed a poster board for it. After I was done at the library, I walked to Uncle Charlie’s house, and he took me to the store so I could get it and then brought me home. I apologize. I was in a rush to get dinner done. I forgot to take it to my room.” My lungs are burning in desperate need of air. My chest shakes as I take a deep breath waiting for him to yell at me.

But that never comes. Instead, he asks, “How did you get to the library?” I’m confused why he’s asking me that, then it hits me. He probably is wondering if Parker took me.

“I walked, sir.” I don’t let my eyes move an inch away from his because I know he’s trying to see if I’m lying to him.

“Okay,” is all he says before he walks away. I rush to the living room and take my stuff into my room, hoping he doesn’t call my uncle.

During dinner, no one speaks, which is unusual, but I won’t be the person who starts a conversation. After cleaning up the dishes, I rush through a shower because I’m exhausted and want to relax. Shutting my door, I pull out the new bra from the bottom of my bag, thankful I thought to stash it in there. Deciding to see how it looks, I put it on and stand in front of the mirror on the back of my door. Turning side to side, it fits well, but I don’t know if it looks good on me or not. It seems to be missing something, then I remember the pair of underwear that Carly bought me for my seventeenth birthday as a gag gift.

Pulling them out, I step into them, turning around to see myself in the mirror again. I really hoped I would like what I saw this time. Nope, all I see is someone with rolls, thighs that touch, a belly that hangs over, and scars all over herself. No wonder Parker hasn’t messaged me back in almost two days. No one wants something that looks like me. Turning from the mirror, I’m dead set on burning them tomorrow. I don’t know what I was thinking. Right before I take the bra off, out of left field, an idea pops into my head. Maybe if I took a picture in them, I would like how I looked.

Grabbing my phone, I sit on the edge of my bed. Hold the phone above me, so there’s only a little of my face in the shot. Mostly it’s all boobs. I suck in my stomach, trying to make it as flat as possible. Watching the screen, I see that more of the panties are being shown when I do that. I lean back a little bit more, so more of my bottom half is showing. Swallowing, I press the button on the side of the phone to take the picture before I get too scared. Not looking at the picture, I throw my phone behind me, change into my pj’s and make sure the bra and panties are hidden deep in my drawers so no one will ever find them. I’m going to chalk what happens next up to being exhausted and so starved for attention that my brain stopped working for five minutes. Because the next thing I know, my fingers are bringing up my thread with Parker attaching the picture and hitting send.

What the fuck did I just do? Throwing my phone at my dresser, I stand up and start pacing back and forth. I can’t believe that I just did that. I can’t take that back, can I? Picking up my phone, I go straight to Google, but it’s no good. You can’t unsend a message once it’s sent. What if he shows someone? What if he thinks the same thing I do? He hasn’t answered me all day, so something is up. The room starts to spin, breathing is so hard, my whole body’s shaking, and I’m getting warm. I have to get out of here. My brothers are gone, so I’m the only one awake. Leaving my phone on the bed, I slip out and head to my safe place.

I can’t believe I did that! What am I going to do if he doesn’t even respond to that? The bigger question is how I’m going to handle this. I learned the hard way a long time ago that you can’t make someone do something they don’t want to do. I wanted my mom to believe me, but she didn’t. Instead, she threw me away like everyone else in my life has. It’s too cold at night to stay out here for long, and when my teeth start to chatter, I know it’s time to go. When I get back to the warmth of my room, I don’t even look at my phone. Instead, I turn it off and put it under my pillow. The only reason I have the stupid thing doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore, so there’s no use for it anymore. I lay down, my head on the windowsill as tears stream out of my eyes, and I wish on every star I can see.

I wish that my grandparents love me.

I wish that my brothers didn’t ignore me.

I wish that Vanessa and Christian would stop torturing me.

I wish that my mom believed me.

I wish that my dad wanted me.

I wish that Parker would want me and love me.

I wish I would die in my sleep just so the pain would stop.

CHAPTERSEVENTEEN

I thought having a drink would help me find the courage to talk about what was going on back home, but in reality, it didn’t. What started as one beer turned into three and a shot of whiskey. Zak’s mom was working the night shift and wouldn’t be home till after we passed out. I barely woke up this morning when Zak started getting yelled at that he had to go to school no matter how much his head hurt, but I quickly roll over and go back to sleep. I’m dead to the world till I’m jarred awake by something heavy landing on my back, knocking all the air from my lungs. With a groan, I hear Zak’s ADHD ass laugh. “Why is your ass still in bed, dude? I drank more than you and still had to sit through seven hours of lectures. If anyone is allowed to sleep, it should be me.” He bounces on my back once more before he gets off of me. Rolling over, I don’t say anything because I don’t have any air in my lungs. What I can do is throw him the bird. Grabbing one of the pillows that fell to the floor, he smacks me hard with it. “Come on, I told the boys you were back in town, and they want to hang out. Get. Up.”

“Fine, fuck go take your medicine and calm down.” Pulling myself upright, I sit on the side of the bed, pushing my hair back out of my face. Laughing at me again, he turns and heads out the door.

“You have ten minutes to shower your stinky ass and get downstairs, or I’m going to take that pretty bike of yours to the shop. I think it needs a new paint job may be a pretty princess pink.” He throws out over his shoulder. He has to quickly duck to miss the shoe I chunk at his head. “Hey, now, is that how you treat your best friend, the person you run to when you need help, asshat,” he says, picking up the shoe and tossing it back to me.

“Touch my bike, and it won’t be a shoe I throw at you next. It’ll be my fist, fuck face.”

“I ain’t scared of you. I can take you. Tell you what, we’ll play rock, paper, scissors, and the winner gets the first punch, buddy.” He draws the last word out. Shaking my head, I know he won’t ever shut up if I keep entertaining him. But as I walk past him, I make sure to give him a good slap on the back of the head and rush to the bathroom across the landing. Just as I shut the door, I hear something hit it, and I let out a little laugh.

“Man, it’s good to be back around friends,” I say to no one and start the shower. I really do stink and need the hot water to relax a little.

I’m not naïve. I know my problems are still hanging over my head, but I’m determined not to think about them today. I need a full day of just hanging out with my friends and not dealing with anything. No Vanessa, her pushiness or threats, and no stressing about my feelings for Emilee. If I think too long about what I’m doing, I start to feel bad about not talking to her, but I need to clear my head. I hope she’ll understand.

“Hurry up, Park, Park. I’m bored and want to get out of here,” I hear Zak shout from downstairs. I let out a groan and finish up in the bathroom before going to get dressed. Thank God I left spare clothes here when we moved. This place really is my home away from home, and I didn’t realize how much I missed it until I pulled up yesterday. Out of habit, I grab my phone off the charger and see multiple missed texts from Vanessa, Aunt Luna, and Emilee. Ignoring Vanessa’s messages, I text Aunt Luna telling her I’m fine, but I’m turning my phone off for the day. She has Zak’s number if she needs to get ahold of me. Not looking at Emilee’s is the hardest part.

“Parker,” Zak whines from the stairs.

“I’m coming, you damn child.” Before I change my mind, I power off my cell and lay it back on the table. Taking the stairs two at a time, I run right into the brick wall that is my best friend because he’s distracted by his phone. He loses his footing and falls off the last step. I can’t help it. I throw my head back and laugh, a full-body laugh, and it feels damn good.

“Fucker. Why is Aunt Luna messaging me asking if you are okay and if she needs to come up here?” Pushing himself up, he hands me his phone.

“Because I told her I’m turning off my phone to sort through the shit in my head,” I say while typing a reply.

Zak: Hey, it’s me. I’m fine. I promise. I’ll explain everything when I get home tomorrow. I’m going to hang with the guys and just spend some drama-free time with my friends. I love you and am sorry that I’m worrying you. Please don’t worry too much.

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