Hate Me Like You Do, page 5
“How long have you been there?” Her voice cracks.
Tell her you heard it all.
No, lie to her.
Neither. Ignore her. “What’s this?” I smack the edge of the blanket, flicking it up into her face for a moment.
She swats my hand away, her face falling into the most blank expression I’ve seen on her. Normally she’s all smiles or full of exaggerated eye rolls. She’s never… nothing.
I'm nothing. Her...she's fucking everything and a lost part of me fucking hates myself for giving her that familiar look that's been in my eyes for years.
“I should be taking the couch. This is your bedroom after all.”
What the fuck.
“No.” I pass my attention slowly over her delicate features.
She's too passive. Especially right now with her emotions already screwed up from whatever carelessness that cunt of a mother said to her.
“Knox there isn’t anywhere else for me to go since your dad is trying to remodel all of the rooms to look like the spread of some sort of home decor magazine.” Her lips press together flatly.
“You think I want my bed now?” I lean closer to her. I want to hear how much it’s tormenting her with every hitch of her hot breath against my lips. “You’ve ruined it with his limp dick. I can't sleep in a limp dick bed. Gives bad vibes.” The emptiness stays on my tone despite how much pleasure those tormenting words just gave me.
She laughs a deep humming sound that always makes me wonder what she’d sound like when she came. “There has been much worse in that bed than Damon, let's be honest.”
She tries to move past me to the hallway, her arm brushing against my chest. I won’t let her. My fingers dig into the doorframe as I hold my stance, caging her small body against mine.
I love the feel of her innocence radiating into me. I love the little shiver of fear and excitement that always races through her when we touch.
“Keep my bed and I’ll keep the couch.” Each word is short and pointed.
Lessons are to be learned the hard way, and with Reed occupying the space too, I’m sure there is more room for… shall I say, growing?
“You’ve got to be kidding.” She swivels away from me, taking her rich vanilla scent with her. God I love the way she makes my sheets smell.
Not that I'll be smelling them anytime soon.
With a small grunt she tosses the bedding to the floor. She wastes no time crossing her arms over her chest. She looks like a pouting child.
I can literally envision how she looked so many years ago. I know little of her childhood. Just what she’s told me and it isn’t good.
"It isn’t like I have sweet memories of her. It's always been like this.” Pain flashed in her stormy gaze. “When I was little, she used to play hide and seek with me just to get high for a few minutes in peace.”
She bowed her face down, watching her hands in her lap. I turned away. I didn’t like seeing her like that. Weak, she looked weak as if her mother had strangled every ounce of life from her. Though I knew she hadn’t.
Violet was strong because of what she suffered.
She continued while I stared straight ahead. “When we were at a little beach one day we started mom’s infamous hide and smoke it up game. Because she never actually sought me out, let's be honest. I hid in an old shower room. Closed the little door on myself, shut out every ounce of light.”
Her hands halted in her lap. I looked at her wondering how the story ended. Did she stay hidden until she realized just how big of a piece of trash her mother was?
“I didn’t realize a homeless man was already hiding there.” The quiver in her voice had me holding my breath.
“He grabbed me, pushed at my arms and my wet swimsuit, forced me down even as I screamed for my mom who was already passed out. It was a nightmare come to life. I still feel his hands on my body sometimes in the middle of the night.”
Disgusting. Vile. Terrible. That man deserved the slowest, crippling death. And someday, I hoped I’d bring that to him.
“I still remember the way the door flung open, slicing blinding light over me just as the man tore my suit. I thought it was my mother. I thought she'd come to save me.”
She smacked her lips together in sour humor. “It was a man I'd never met before, a total stranger saved my life, and I ran away without a second glance to him.”
I wonder if it’s all because of that day or that stupid game that always leaves her shaking in the dark. I act like I don’t notice how she trembles or gets skittish and fidgets every time the lights go out.
It was those first few sleepless nights she had that had me crawling back to my own bed as some twisted form of comfort. Maybe the alcohol helped with that too.
That uncontrollable fear she always got at night was the worst I ever saw her. Until right now.
I think Violet Demure is learning her lesson today. Or maybe Violet Demure already learned it long ago in a little dark shower during a game her mother never should have played.
Five
Dee
With each step I try not to limp. The boys, if they decide to talk to me today, will give me crap telling me that I’m being dramatic.
Me. That I’m the dramatic one. Little boys who live in fragile, blindingly dramatic mansions should not throw shade.
However, it’s these stupid shoes they bought for me to wear to school. Loafers, brand new. With all the walking I’ve been doing to and from school my poor ankles never stood a chance.
Rocks crunch noisily under my feet with each step. Knox and Reed already left for the day but Landon is just now pulling out of the five car garage.
He drives the most gorgeous piece of machinery to ever hit the road, I swear. It’s a black 1961 Ferrari Two Fifty GT California Spider. I only know the name so well because he’s so proud of it that he says it like Ferrari pays him a dollar every time he spews their name.
I don’t bother to make eye contact with him as he pulls out. The car rolls slowly through the driveway then stops when he reaches me.
“Hey, Dee,” he calls out, a lopsided smile lifting his cheeks, warm morning air ruffling his perfect dark hair.
Oh, he knows I exist today.
His car must be making him high for him to acknowledge my existence.
I don’t answer but I turn to face him and give him my attention. What? What could he possibly want now? I hope the look on my face says ‘eat shit.’
“I’ll give you a ride to school today if you don’t tell Knox and Reed.”
He offered the same thing three days ago and I quietly shrugged him off. This time, it just pisses me off. Is he really going to do this every few days? Does he really think he’s going to get on my good side acting sweet to me while we’re alone, but return to standard setting douchebag mode as soon as the others are around?
Pathetic.
“I already bought my bus ticket,” I easily lie.
“You’re gonna refuse a ride in my 1961 Ferrari two-fifty GT California Spider right now? I’m only trying to be nice.”
Every chance he gets.
I lean down to get eye level with him, my fingers skimming the smooth paint. My polo shirt is unbuttoned at the top, exposing an inch of cleavage and I pretend not to notice his eyes dart to my chest for a second. “I’m sure there are other ulterior motives. Besides, public transportation is always super nice to me. They don’t call me names or write shitty things in my textbooks. They’re super sweet like that.” With a mocking wink, I smack the metal of his cherished car and continue my – slightly limping – victorious walk to the bus station. “Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Dee, you’re kidding?” he hollers after me.
Without missing a beat or giving him anymore of my attention, I flip him a vulgar gesture over my shoulder that I've never actually used in my entire life.
It feels so fucking good.
Would it be just over the top if I did both hands, one after the other, after the other just so he really gets the point?
“Fuck you too then,” he growls, dropping his nice guy act. Rocks rain down in the long driveway as his car flings them up in the midst of him peeling out.
Clearly tantrums are more violent the older boys get.
I smile to myself.
Off he goes, his tires screeching down the street as he speeds away.
Asshole.
Mrs. Owens hums to herself as she passes out our tests from yesterday. She might be one of the most cheerful teachers we have here but it's probably because she gets her kicks off of working her students to death. It’s the first week of school and we already had a test this week.
At some point child labor laws must come into play here.
Landon is still pissy because I turned him down this morning. When I sit down, I grin wildly at him, that eat shit and die smile that I’m perfecting. I won’t tell him that I was almost late and ended up running the last three blocks from the bus stop to here.
Some things I can keep to myself.
For all he knows I had a lovely little stroll in the breezy summer morning. I didn’t step in a puddle. I didn’t almost forget my backpack on the bus. I didn’t have to slip my shoes off to sprint here.
Nope, if he cares to ask, Best. Morning. Ever.
I hope the sweat on my brow has dried up a bit. Also, I’m pretty sure my blister is bleeding into these shoes. Hope these aren’t designer. Yet knowing Knox’s taste, they likely are.
Mrs. Owens reaches me and her humming stops. She flips my test over on my desk so I can’t see my grade, a sad smile tensing her thin lips.
Oh no.
As she continues on her way I take my chances and flip my paper over.
F.
F as in Fuck-My-Life.
A big bold, red marker, almost as bad as Venereal Violet, letter “F” sits at the top of my test. Sucking in a deep breathe I try to hold back the flood of emotions that want to escape. This particular F, our first grade, brings my grade down for the class to an overall F. F for failure. F for fucking lucky if I even make it through high school let alone college.
Suddenly, I’m no longer in Mrs. Owens’ class but I’m twelve again bringing home my first failed test to my mother.
I held the paper up for her to see. I’d always been good in school, proud of my grades, working hard for them everytime. But something about math just never clicked with me.
My mom puffed on a cigarette, blowing the white smoke in a large cloud over my paper. “Do you need something?” She asked as if I was an inconvenience in her day. She tilted her head and tried to look around me at the television.
“I need a tutor for math class.”
Mom huffed a laugh. “Little girl, I’m not going to pay for a tutor for you. Girls like us don't need math. I’ll be surprised if you make it through high school.” She paused, giving her very best version of a motherly smile. "You're just like me, sweetie. You won’t amount to anything." She motioned around to the messy trailer we lived in.
Violet Demure you won’t amount to anything.
Words sting. Especially words you’ve heard your entire life despite your many successes and good grades. I’m afraid of failure. Terrified of it. Terrified that one day I’ll end up like my mom, strung out on drugs, too high to care if her daughter eats that day and spending all her money to get her latest fix.
There is so much more out there for me. I’m determined to get it. Even if it’s a mediocre job, anything has to be better than jail, awaiting a trial because I ran a fucking woman over in the parking lot of a Circle K.
I shove out the tense breath lingering in my chest.
From beneath his dark glasses, Landon glances across the aisle at my test. He doesn’t meet my eyes instead he quickly looks away. This is the class he originally offered to help me with. I can see he has a big shiny red “A” on his paper.
He knows how much I need this class. Without a B average, I won’t be able to get a scholarship. Without a scholarship, all hope is lost for me to get to college.
The library smelled musky but not in a bad way. It smelled like books, so many books. Landon leaned down over my shoulder, testing the distance between us like he does every time we come here. The first time we’d come, he’d sat across from me. Eventually he took the seat next to me. Now it was a brush of his arm as he sat closely. The rough scrape of his stubble when he leaned over me to point at some passages he didn’t want me to miss.
If I hadn’t known better, I would think he enjoyed my company. Maybe craved my touch. Though he wasn’t short of girlfriends at all.
Thankfully, I only saw them coming and going. I didn’t have to bear witness like I did with Reed and his ‘dates.’ On truly rare occasions I’d hear the pleasure filled cries of Landon’s many fucks and wondered what he did to them to get that kind of reaction.
I wondered if he’d do it to me one day.
He pointed down to the text I had before me. “Look, look at this. Isn’t it awesome?”
His breath was a hot whisper against my ear. I laughed because I didn’t know anyone else who would find biology as exciting as he did.
He was a sexy nerd in every sense of the phrase.
“I guess.” I wanted to turn and eliminate the small space between us. But that’d be too much. “It’s not biology that I’m worried about this year, though. It’s math. I swear the numbers always jump off the page and do a little dance and if the question is multiple choice my answer is never an option.”
“Oh, math is easy. It always stays the same. One plus one will always be two.” Landon stood upright again. His chair squealed against the floor, interrupting the quiet of the library.
“Everything is easy for you. You’re smart.” I meant it too. Smartest guy I know, Landon Scott.
I swear he blushed. Landon waved his hand in that weird half wave but he was so obviously pleased with his compliment. His amber eyes shone with something I couldn’t quite put my finger on. Happiness? Some variation of it?
“Violet Demure, I vow,” he held three fingers up like a boy scout, “to make sure you do not fail your math class this year. You’ll get that B average. Hell, I’ll make sure you get an A average.”
“Okay, Landon Scott. What’s the catch?” I grabbed his hand pulling it down to his side. I thought for a moment about lacing my fingers through his but hesitantly let go of his touch. His fingers lifted to follow mine before he likely remembered he isn’t supposed to touch me. Not like that.
Instead we just stared at each other, our lips so close, our breath heating between us.
He made a show of looking thoughtful. “I’ll call in my favor one day.”
“You help me study and in exchange I owe you a favor?”
“Yes. Just don’t tell the others.” His face became serious and he held out his hand. Always one to push the rules when he had the chance.
Always one to ask me not to tell.
I gave it a firm shake.
“It’s a deal.”
Watching him now sitting in class, his spine stiff and his fingers drumming against the desk carelessly, I can’t help but think back to that first, don’t ever tell.
It felt like a sexy secret between us.
Now it just feels weak. It was weak of him to treat me like a dirty little secret.
Is he thinking about his already broken vow? The boy scouts would have kicked his ass to the forest clad curb.
I hope he is stewing in guilt. So much for owing him any sort of favors.
And I know, I only have myself to blame. It’s my stupidity for leaning on Landon Scott for advice, help, or common fucking courtesy.
Six
Landon
Friday is finally here. One week of school and somehow I’m already feeling the pressure. Not for myself, of course. I mean I’ve got a good handle on all my classes this year. It's boringly simple.
It’s Dee though. She is already failing Algebra. In a week. How does that happen? How one person could be so very bad at math is beyond me.
She isn’t stupid, anything but. Yet somehow we’re one week in and she’s already struggling. It’s the beginning of the year, this is the easy stuff.
It won't get easier.
I chew on my lip, knowing that if she doesn’t get the hang of what we're working on now it will likely set her up for failure the rest of the semester. The image of her falling face when she saw her test result passes through my mind for the third time today.
Algebra is my first class of the day and the hardest one to get through. Don’t talk to Dee. Don’t help Dee. Don't even think of Dee.
Knox told Reed and I after we found her with that disease Damon, hands groping her chest like she was the freaking volume button on a stereo.
Knox was a chaotic mess after that. Destroyed his lower level gym in under an hour. A pile of shattered glass and flipped benches were all that was left in the room.
I’m mad too. Furious. Somewhere between jealousy and shock over a girl I’ll never have.
Suddenly, I’m angry at myself too. I let myself push the envelope with her all summer. I stole a touch here, a fleeting moment of joy from the way she laughed at my terrible jokes there. It was intoxicating just to want her.
Maybe that was the appeal.
And yet, I still fucking want her.
I’m so stupid. So unbelievably stupid for falling for her this summer.
Landon Scott, A-plus student: terrible idiot friend who can't do the one thing he was asked.
I’m thankful for Knox, he's like a brother to me. His father, secretive as he is, lets us stay with him while he is gone. A wonderful way to get away from my own “perfect on the outside” family. Though, I have my suspicions that his father doesn’t actually know we're staying here.
But to cross Knox, I worry what he would do if he ever found out the secrets I keep with Dee. There’s two sides of him. The side I’m friends with, the version of Knox that can persuade anyone to do anything. The man who loves a challenge. Then there is the dark side of him. Some part of him that is so lost to himself, it terrifies me to think about what he would do.
