The Unloved Page 3

  My curiosity got the best of me and I slowed my walk to an almost standstill, waiting to find out.

  “Not a problem,” a girl answered back and relief flooded my mind. “So, are we still on for tomorrow? You’re not going to chicken out on me or anything, right?” the girl asked in a teasing tone.

  “Yes, I’ll still go,” Jules said, and I could hear her roll her eyes without having to see her do it.

  “Awesome! Want me to pick you up for school in the morning?”

  I watched as Jules shuffled her feet. She was nervous about something. I smirked, surprised that I still remembered some of her old ticks, or maybe I was just surprised that she still had them.

  “Yeah, sure, that would be great. I’ll give you some money tomorrow for gas or whatever. I get paid on Fridays.”

  “Okay. See ya in the morning,” the girl replied before Jules shut the passenger side door and then backed out of the driveway without seeing me.

  I stopped where I was and heard her yell, “Shit, sorry! I didn’t see you. I would have stopped if I had, you know pedestrian right-of-way and shit!” to me with a wave before barreling down the street full speed. It had been the girl with the hot pink streaks in her hair. If the streaks in her hair hadn’t made me think she was a wild one, then her driving sure as shit did.

  “Sorry about that. Tiffany can be a scary driver,” Jules said, surprising me. I hadn’t expected her to notice me, let alone talk to me. I’d expected her to head straight inside her house without looking back.

  “I can see that.” I smiled and stopped at the edge of her driveway.

  “So, your mom finally let you move back, huh? Are you glad to be back here?”

  I nodded. “Yeah, took her long enough. And I guess so,” I added with a shrug.

  “You didn’t miss much. I can tell you that.” She frowned.

  I did, though. I’d missed her. I put my hands in my front pockets. “Yeah, well, it’s still good to be home.”

  The sound of a skateboard cruising down the sidewalk behind me caught my attention and I turned.

  “Cole, what are you doing riding that thing? You know if the cops see you riding it again you’re going to get it taken away! Mom won’t pay to get it back or pay the fine you’ll get either!” Jules shouted, sounding all motherly.

  Cole, shit had he grown since the last time I’d seen him. I nodded at him as he kicked the edge of his board, flipping it up and catching it. “She’s right, you know? They’d take that and not think twice about it. And the fines pretty hefty. It’s like $150, man,” I said.

  “Dang, that’s steep,” Cole said. “Why can’t they just see it as like a way of green transportation? It’s freaking man powered and nonpolluting!”

  “I know what you mean. I don’t get it myself.” I shook my head.

  Cole walked past me and up the driveway to his house.

  “He’s smart,” I said as he slid through the front door. “I’d vote for him if he were running for mayor.”

  Jules smiled and shook her head as she walked away. “See ya, Nick.”

  I liked the way my name sounded coming from her mouth this time. It sounded normal. And that made me smile, wide. Bonus: I’d also succeeded in my own silent promise to make her smile today. I watched her walk until she was almost to her front door before finally crossing the street and continuing on to my house.

  CHAPTER TEN

  JULIE

  I leaned against the front door, fighting to bite back the smile that had formed of its own accord on my face. Great, my best friend for forever moved back across the street from me and I still had a crush on him. Only this time seemed like something more, something bigger. No grade-school crush here; this was full grown. I shook my head, dropped my book bag onto the couch, and headed toward the kitchen where I could hear Cole rummaging through the fridge.

  “Cole, there isn’t—” I cut myself off because it wasn’t Cole in the kitchen; it was my mother’s latest fling, Rob. “Oh, sorry,” I said once I noticed he was wearing nothing besides boxers and dress socks as he raided our bare fridge.

  Rob was one of mom’s rarest types of boyfriends. He was the kind who rarely made an appearance, especially around Cole or me. He was trying to keep his affair with my mom a secret. I’d seen the gold band on his left hand; I knew he was married. I didn’t know if he attempted to hide his presence from us because we reminded him of the kids that he missed, or possibly because he didn’t want to risk attachment on our part or his.

  “Don’t be, honey,” Rob said. A smile twisted the corners of his lips as he unwrapped a piece of cheese. “How was school?” he asked, stepping out of the way so that the fridge could close on its own.

  “Fine, I guess,” I said. Rob was a decent guy, even if he was a cheater. This made me wonder why he was with my mother at all. He always wore a suit and tie, which led me to believe he had a good job, which led me to believe mom thought he had money.

  Rob walked toward me and I wished he wasn’t so comfortable with what he was wearing. “All your teachers seem nice?”

  I nodded. He was standing so close to me now that I could smell the remnants of last night’s, or maybe this morning’s, alcohol on his breath mingling with the piece of cheese he was eating. Gross.

  “Did they assign homework on the first night?” he asked. “I always hated when they did that. It was like a slap in the face that summer was officially over with.”

  “No, guess I got pretty lucky.” I flashed him a small smile.

  “That’s good,” he said and then shoved the remaining piece of the cheese slice in his mouth.

  “Well, I’d better go; I have to get ready for work. I’m supposed to be there in thirty minutes.”

  “All right.” Rob nodded. “Oh, I was just wondering, do you or Cole need anything for school? I know they give you a list of supplies on the first day; you guys need any help getting what they asked for?” He seemed so sincere, and yet so hesitant to ask.

  I smiled faintly. “Umm, yeah. There are a few things we could use—paper, pencils, stuff like that.”

  It might seem humble to most for me to take his money, but I’d learned a long time ago that it was okay to take from the decent-hearted ones, the ones who didn’t expect anything in return and weren’t falsely trying to win your trust. I liked to think of it as helping to sooth their conscience, because they weren’t blind to the home life Cole and I were raised in and they knew it wasn’t what it should be.

  Rob nodded. “I’ll leave thirty under your pillow again.”

  “Thanks,” I said.

  Mom did not deserve him. He was too good of a person to be slumming it with her. I wondered how long it would take him to realize this.

  “I don’t mind helping out,” he assured me. “If you guys need something all you have to do is ask.”

  “Thanks,” I repeated, not knowing what else to say.

  Someone jammed their toe on something at the top of the stairs and I heard it crash to the bottom as a slew of curse words spat from my mother’s mouth.

  “Damn it, Cole! I told you to keep that piece of shit in your room from now on!” she said as she hobbled down the stairs and rounded the corner into the kitchen. “I ‘ought to break that thing in half and throw it in the fuckin’ yard,” she muttered.

  “What happened, honey, did you stub your toe?” Rob asked as he reached for a cup from the cabinet, pretending that was what he’d been doing the entire time and not at all trying once again to offer me money to help out with things. I wondered if he ever gave mom money. If he did he must have noticed it never made its way toward anything that would help me or Cole out. Like food.

  “Yes. I did,” mom said, rubbing her foot and pouting. “Julie, what the hell are you doing standing in here gawking at Rob? Go do something.”

  I didn’t answer her as I darted out of the kitchen; she was so embarrassing to even look at in her short, silk robe with her hair all screwed up like they’d been doing it all day. I grab
bed my book bag off the couch and Cole’s skateboard from the bottom of the steps.

  “Don’t leave that lying around again. She’ll throw it out. You know she will,” I told Cole once I got upstairs. I rolled his skateboard into his room and kept on walking straight to mine.

  I closed my bedroom door behind me and locked it. That had been one of the first things I’d bought with my first check besides groceries—a lock, because the guy mom had dated before Rob had tried to force himself on me a few times. I’d made the mistake of telling her and she’d asked me what the hell kind of drugs I’d been taking to think that her boyfriend would want a little girl.

  This was why I promised myself then that I wouldn’t waste my breath on telling her about anyone else ever again, because I was sure that douche wouldn’t be the last.

  I walked to my bedroom window and opened it, letting in the warm summer breeze. My eyes found the white shed with the green door and I thought of Nick. I shifted my eyes to his house and noticed his mother’s car was gone, but the garage door was open. I could see him inside. He was lifting weights, fiercely. So that was how he’d managed to gain all those lean muscles. I leaned against the windowsill and watched him.

  Nick had always been what comforted me and just the sight of him, even right now, was all I needed to calm my flustered self. It was all I needed to feel the warmth of safety and comfort flow through me.

  I shook my head, thought about how pathetic I sounded, and forced myself away from the window to get ready for work.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  NICK

  I spun the fifteen-pound weight off the end of my barbell and then spun on the twenty. It was time I stepped up my routine because now I not only had my mom to protect from my asshole father, but I also felt like I’d fallen right back into the position I had with Jules when I left—her sole protector, too. Not that I minded. If anyone was going to protect her from anything or anyone I wanted it to be me. For sure.

  I glanced up and over at her house across the street. Her window was still open. I’d caught her staring at me moments ago from up there, but she didn’t react the way that I thought she would. Either she was really lost in thought or it didn’t bother her to be caught staring at me the way that she was. This bothered me, because I had a gut feeling she’d been lost in thought. I wondered if the home life she lived behind that closed front door was still just as horrible as it used to be, or if it had gotten worse.

  I sat down on my bench and glanced once more at her house just to see if she was looking before resuming lifting my weights. The front door opened and out she stepped, that faded blue sweater that was ten sizes too big for her swallowing her body. My mind got the best of me and I began to wonder what she looked like beneath it. From the parts she couldn’t hide like her face, hands, and jean clad legs, I could tell that she wasn’t fat. Why did she hide beneath that sweater even in the sweltering heat of August?

  Jules didn’t even glance my way as she walked down her driveway and cut a left, headed back toward town on foot. I sat there, staring after her, wondering where she was going and wishing I had a car so I could drive her. Once she was out of sight I cranked up the volume on my stereo a little more and went back to my workout.

  Mom pulled into the driveway shortly after and I deflated. Why couldn’t she have come home like ten minutes earlier so that I could have offered Jules a ride and used the car?

  “Honey, could you help me with these, please?” mom asked, juggling three bags of groceries, her purse, and keys.

  “Sure,” I said with a huff, taking all three of the bags from her arms and reaching into the trunk for a fourth.

  I followed mom in the house and set the bags down on the counter before going back out to fetch the remaining two. I loaded them in my hand and grabbed the gallon of milk. Just as I went to close the trunk a beater of a car pulled into the driveway and every muscle in my body grew tense.

  “She finally brought your worthless ass back, huh?” a familiar voice slurred in my direction from the beaters rolled down window.

  I didn’t have to glance up to see that it was my dad. He’d come back, just like I’d known he would.

  “Nice to see you, too,” I muttered and started inside.

  “What did you say to me, boy?” he yelled after me as he fumbled from his rust-bucket car after me. I kept walking like I didn’t hear him.

  “Dad’s here and he’s plastered,” I said.

  Mom’s eyes grew wide and filled with fear. I hated to see her this way. “Did you lock the front door?”

  I shook my head no; the thought hadn’t even occurred to me. “I will, though.”

  “No, let me. You go ahead and put some of this up.” She gestured to the groceries.

  I took the milk from the plastic bag and opened the fridge, but before I could set it inside I heard the loudest bang and then my dad began to yell, “Why you tryin’ to lock me outta my own damn house?”

  I heard mom whimper and shout out in surprise. This was all I needed to drop the milk I’d been holding to the floor and dart out of the kitchen to where they stood. He had her by the back of the head, her hair gripped in his fist tightly. Adrenaline spiked through me and I lunged toward him without a second thought. This was what I had prepared for; no longer was I the weak little boy I’d been when I left. I’d purposely built myself up to have the body of a man for this moment alone.

  Dad let go of mom’s hair the second he saw me coming for him. Everything happened in slow motion for me then—mom falling to the floor into a crumpled heap, just like she always did every time I’d seen him beat her when I was growing up, and dad glaring at me with bloodshot eyes as a slow, satisfied smile twisted into place on his face.

  The force of my body met with his and pushed us both back into the wall. I reared my arm back, my hand forming a tight fist, ready to send my father into another world for the first time. Before I could though, his knee connected with my stomach and I doubled over from the pain.

  “Thought you could take your old man, huh?” Dad laughed. “Even with all those big muscles you’ve got now you’re still the same little pissant from before.”

  My mom’s scream filled my ears and I knew what was coming. I tightened my muscles in anticipation for his next blow because it was all I could do. He’d knocked the wind straight from my lungs. And then I felt it. Something I hadn’t felt in two years, but I had never forgotten. Raw pain.

  Dad’s first blow went to the back of my head. I struggled to block him. I struggled to get to my feet. Hell, I even got in a few good licks myself, but it wasn’t enough. Dad still beat me like old times and I hated myself for it. Looked like I was still the same little pissant after all.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  JULIE

  Claire, from work, gave me a ride home as usual. I felt like a bum, but she always insisted that she didn’t care, that it gave her a clear conscience knowing she’d given me a ride when it was dark. That way she knew I’d gotten home safe. She was sweet. I was going to miss her in a few weeks when she transferred from the community college to the university and no longer worked at Sweet Tooth with me.

  “Thanks for the ride,” I said as I slid out of her SUV.

  “Not a problem.” Claire smiled.

  I closed the door and waved as she backed out of the driveway and drove off. Music found its way to my ears and I glanced across the street to Nick’s house, checking to see if he was still in the garage working out. There was no light on in the garage, but the door was still opened and now there were two cars sitting in the driveway. My heart pounded when I realized who the other one belonged to—Nick’s dad.

  A banging came from my left somewhere and I glanced around in the darkness, wondering what it was. A light in the little white shed caught my attention and I realized that was where the music was coming from, too. I was walking across the street and headed straight for it before my mind had decided I was going to.

  A candle illuminated the shed and Nick�
�s silhouette flickered across the walls. When I reached the ajar door, my hand brushed against the peeling green paint and knots began to form in my stomach. How many times had I seen light coming from here at night from my bedroom window and snuck out of the house to find Nick, bloodied and beaten by his father’s fists? Too many to count, that was how many.

  “Nick?” I called, wondering what I would say to him this time.

  “Jules,” he answered and I opened the door a little more so I could slip inside.

  He was sitting with his back propped against the wall, holding an old tennis ball in one hand and a nearly finished bottle of rum in the other. Light flickered across his face and I knew from past experience that the areas shaded darker weren’t shadows. They were bruises. His dad had beaten him. Again.

  “What happened?” I asked as I moved to sit beside him just like old times. My body seemed to remember the motions as though from a routine never forgotten. It was my brain though that noticed the differences.

  The wall behind us had become narrow over the years, or maybe it was because in two years we ourselves had grown. Our arms brushed against one another and our knees touched. Even through the clothes I was wearing I could feel the fire of his skin. Whether it was from anger still lingering in his system or the alcohol, I wasn’t sure.

  “The same shit as always,” he said without looking at me, his words clipped.

  “I’m sorry,” I said as I reached over and turned the volume on the radio down so we could talk.

  “I thought things would be different this time if he ever came back.” Nick chuckled at his words and turned to face me. “Boy was I fucking wrong.”

  I swallowed hard and kept silent, waiting for him to continue, but he didn’t. He just stared at me. Emotions swirled in his eyes that I couldn’t name, and then he dropped his gaze back to the wall in front of us and resumed his game of wall ball.