Page 9 of Beach B!tch
I spent a few hours in the E.R. that night getting fifteen stitches in my knee after they removed the offending piece of glass. The story was, my father was so excited by my award, he dropped his beer bottle and the whole thing was an unfortunate accident. The doctors and nurses assumed my silence was because I couldn't handle the sight of all the blood. In reality, I was biting my tongue, doing everything I could to hold back the truth that was begging to be out in the open. But a part of me couldn't sell out my father like that. Probably the same part of me that still thought there was good left in him.
Present Day
I sat in my bed, the lamp on my nightstand glowing brightly in the dark room. I had on flannel pajamas and a blanket and quilt over me, yet I still couldn't get warm. My hands shook and the fact I was so rattled by Dean's behavior bothered me the most. Why did I care so much about this guy? There were red flags left and right. I should run, not walk, away from him and never look back.
I went over the details of what I saw, trying to piece together any other explanation that would have him looking innocent.
When I walked back into the house to make my escape, I saw Dean push a guy away from him, then he hit him square in the face, his fist flying faster than I could blink. Dean's beer spilled everywhere and the other guy went down, blood trickling out of his nose. I stared at Dean's face as he looked down at the guy. He had a vein in the side of his forehead that was bulging. He was breathing hard, and he had a look of absolute hatred in his wild eyes. I looked away, my gaze finding the poor guy on the floor. I was frozen as were the people standing around the living room.
Then Dean was looking at me, coming toward me like he wasn't done.
So I ran.
I did the only thing I could think of at that moment, and just ran.
It was like history repeating itself. A man in my life, drinking, getting physical, hurting people. There was no way in hell I was voluntarily stepping back into that. How did I not see this in Dean before? I could have sworn his eyes were sincere when he said he would never hurt me. You know. Ten minutes before he punched that guy out?
I rolled my eyes and settled under the sheets. I couldn't believe I fell for his bullshit. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. No way was I going to be fooled twice.
I called on years of athletic training and blocked all thoughts of Dean and the party and the weight of disappointment from my brain. I went over plays in my head and opponents I may compete against at my next match. The routine soothed me and I was soon asleep, no longer troubled as I dreamt of clear skies, sandy beaches, and volleyball nets.
Dean
I helped clean up the mess I created in Esa's living room. I apologized profusely and felt embarrassed so many people witnessed my anger management meltdown. Everyone told me I was in the right to deck that guy. No one admitted to inviting him to the party, and no one condoned his mocking of my disabled brother. Still, I feared that my actions were sending me back down an old path, if the look on Brinley's face was anything to go by.
I eventually went home and iced my hand. I hadn't punched anything but a punching bag in a long time. I guess my knuckles weren't in fighting shape anymore. I didn't have to work the next day, which was why I allowed myself a couple beers at the party. I switched back to water anyway, knowing I'd feel better the next day when I executed my plan.
I called Esa the next morning, getting right to the point by asking her about Brinley. A rundown of our brief, yet heated, exchanges and what happened when she ran out of the party last night got her up to speed. I figured I'd lay it all on the table and get her honest opinion if I should even try to approach Brinley again.
Esa was silent for a long while after I finished my story. Then she took a deep breath and chuckled. "Well, that's interesting."
I cringed at her choice of words. "'Interesting' is not what I was hoping for. Could you give me some insight on how to approach her again? Maybe one that won't get me shot down in two seconds flat?"
"First of all, you've got to understand that Brinley's not like most girls. I thought she was a very strange person when I first met her. I liked her, but knew she was different. She tells awful jokes. She won't talk about her past. She's insanely focused on her career in volleyball. She's intense and a hard coconut to crack," Esa explained.
Coconut? Sounded like Brinley wasn't the only strange person around here. "I get all that and I don't think any of that is a problem, but why does she act like she hates me?" I paced my bedroom, unable to stand still any longer. The whole situation made me tense and aggravated.
"I don't know. She hasn't talked to me about anything super personal so I couldn't guess." Esa sounded a bit frustrated. Join the party. "How about this? I'm taking a self-defense class she's teaching later today. Want me to talk to her and see what's up? I'm not saying I'll tell you anything, but I'll at least give her a chance to talk to me about it and see if I can help. Sound good?"
"Yeah, that sounds great actually. Anything is better than where I'm at now. Call me later?" I was grateful for her help though I wasn't holding out much hope she'd get anywhere with her. Not for the first time I wondered why I was so caught up on Brinley when she obviously wasn't interested in me. I just couldn't put my finger on it. There was something in her gaze when she thought no one was looking. It was like she was the saddest, loneliest human being I had ever seen and I couldn't walk away.
