Even if it Hurts: A Toxic Romance, page 8
I miss a beat, take a breath, then decide, what the hell? “My father.”
“Oh. You got me there, I don’t know him.”
“Don’t feel bad. Turns out I didn’t, either,” I murmur.
He’s quiet for a moment, then asks, “What happened?”
I didn’t plan to get into all this with him. I don’t have time for my old friends, so I certainly don’t have time to make new ones. I also doubt he has any real interest in being my friend, but I remind myself I shouldn’t be so skeptical. Aside from that first night, he has been pretty good to me.
“My mom has cancer. She was diagnosed during my sophomore year. We’ve been fighting it ever since, did all the treatments, the diets, the prayers, the dumb shit you find on the internet when you’re desperate for some last-resort method peddled by some grief-predator who swears they have the answers all the doctors don’t. We tried everything. And, of course, it was hard. Constant soaring hopes and crushing disappointments, working our lives around Mom’s cancer treatments, going into debt paying for what insurance wouldn’t cover… It’s been awful, I won’t pretend otherwise. But that’s what he signed up for. He was clearly a bit fuzzy on the vows he made—‘forsaking all others’, ‘in sickness and in health’, he seemed to think those were just for dramatic effect. He started a part-time job—that’s what he told us, anyway—to make extra money. We were cash-strapped just living here so I could go to stupid fucking Baymont High, but then with all Mom’s cancer stuff, she ended up having to quit her job, so we went down to one income. Anyway, he said he was working a second job stocking Nestlé products in stores in the area, but what had actually happened was he had met somebody. When he pretended to be working, he was actually going out with her while I stayed home and took care of Mom. He made fools of both of us, and then he left us for her.”
“Fuck. That’s heavy. I’m sorry.”
I shrug, looking down at my lap. “It sucked. Mom said I was being too hard on him, that her illness had been a lot for him, and he was never a very strong man, so he couldn’t handle it.”
“And what do you say?”
“Me?” I look over at him. “I say fuck him. I’m 18-years-old. If I can stick it out, he could have, too. He’s selfish. He shouldn’t have married anyone in the first place if his ‘commitment’ was so conditional. I don’t know what kind of person leaves someone they supposedly love at the end of their life just because the experience isn’t pleasant, but it’s not the kind of person I have any use for in my life.” Anger heats my face and climbs up my ears as I think about the bullshit he said, telling me he hoped someday I wouldn’t be so angry at him. Wanting me to meet the bimbo he left Mom for.
Yeah, no fucking thanks.
“He told me how nice she is.” I look over at him. “Can you believe that shit? So nice she was fine with stealing the husband of a woman dying from cancer. Yeah, she sounds great.” I shake my head. “I don’t talk to him anymore. He still calls every now and then, but I stopped answering.”
The car is quiet for a moment. Self-consciousness creeps up on me.
“Sorry for ranting at you. Bet you’re regretting this chauffeur gig now, huh?” I remark lightly.
Dare looks over at me with a frown. “Why? Because you’re being real? It’s nice. I’m not used to it.”
“Anae doesn’t have deep, personal conversations with you?”
“Not that kind,” he says dryly. “Anae’s shallow. Even her depth is shallow as hell. She parades her darkness out and tries to impress me with it, but as far as real feelings… it’s all skin deep. Everything is with her. Nothing hurts her, not really. Maybe she wasn’t always that way, I don’t know her reasons, I just know it’s fucking boring.”
“What’s boring?”
“The whole act, the ‘above it all, nothing can touch me’ bullshit.” He rolls his eyes. “Pain makes people interesting. Being unaffected isn’t half as great as people seem to think it is.”
“I don’t know. She seemed pretty upset last night. I mean, it came out as anger, but it was fear. That’s what jealousy is—fear of losing someone.”
A frown flickers across his face, so briefly I almost think I’m imagining it. I can’t read his expression after that, and he falls silent.
I didn’t mean to make him stop talking. The topics weren’t fun, but I don’t have anyone to open up to anymore, and I was enjoying talking to him.
It’s probably better that it stopped, though. He’s someone else’s boyfriend. There’s no reason for us to share our deep, dark secrets with one another.
I look out the window until we get to the grocery store, but when he pulls in, I realize he brought me to the wrong one.
“Um… I hate to be a complainer when you’re doing me the favor, but this isn’t the grocery store I meant.”
Confusion flickers across his face. “Does it make a difference? This is the one we usually get stuff from.”
“Yeah. Everything costs more here.”
“Oh. Well, it’s probably better quality.”
“Probably. Unfortunately, I can’t afford better quality. Bargain basement groceries fit my budget better.”
Apparently unconvinced by my argument, he pulls into a parking space and turns off the engine.
Okay, then.
I guess I’m paying a million dollars for groceries today.
At least I only have to grab a few things.
Actually, since I won’t have my car until tomorrow after school, maybe I should grab a few extra things—just in case there’s some other delay, so I don’t have to ask him to bring me again.
He grabs a basket when we walk in, then slows down and looks over at me. “All right, where do we go first?”
I gesture ahead. “We’ll stop at produce. I need to get a couple of bananas.”
He cocks an eyebrow. “For dinner?”
“For breakfast. I’m making chicken parmesan for dinner. Banana-free.”
“Sounds good. Am I invited?”
I crack a smile. “No.”
“Aw, come on. I need to sample the goods, remember?” he says, playfully nudging me. “You’ll never land your dream job as my maid at this rate.”
“How will I go on?” I stop and eye up the price written in cheerful blue chalk—twice what they cost at my grocery store. I hope everything here doesn’t cost double.
I grab two bananas and place them in the basket. Next, I grab some grape tomatoes for tomorrow night’s dinner. We make our way to the cheese, then grab some boxed pasta. I’m trying to calculate all of it in my head on the way to the register just so I’m prepared when Dare grabs a bag of chips and tosses them on top by the register.
“You want any?” he asks.
I shake my head. “I’m okay.”
He nods, then steps forward as the person in front of us moves. “What a novel experience. I like grocery shopping.”
I snort. “This was hardly a shopping trip.”
“You’ll have to take me on a proper grocery shopping trip sometime. You can make me dinner afterward.”
“Wow. How could I possibly pass up an offer like that?” I ask sarcastically.
“Maybe you can teach me,” he suggests.
That surprises me and wipes the smile off my face since it’s a real suggestion. “You want me to teach you to cook?”
He nods, glancing back at me. “And I’ll teach you to swim. Just in case I’m not around to save your ass next time.”
I crack a smile as the cashier starts ringing up our stuff. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re trying to spend more time with me.”
“Do you?”
I glance up at him. “Do I what?”
There’s something unsettling in his gaze, something… almost accessible. Despite how popular he is and how many friends he claims to have, I don’t get the feeling Dare truly opens up to many people.
Maybe that’s why my tummy flutters with nerves when I peer into those mysterious brown eyes of his and it feels like he’s letting me in.
His voice is low, intimate. “Know better?”
My heart flutters.
I do my best to ignore it, breaking his gaze and opening my purse to dig out my wallet. The cashier isn’t finished ringing things up, I just need a distraction.
Finally, she tells me the total, but before I can take out my credit card, Dare hands her his.
I look up at him, surprised. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He shrugs. “I wanted to.”
“Thank you,” I say softly.
He nods wordlessly, then takes his credit card. I wait for him to move forward so I can grab my grocery bags, but he grabs those, too.
As we head for the entry and exit doors, I can’t bite back a faint smile. “You better be careful, Dare.”
He looks down at me, his brow furrowing.
I let my smile widen and tell him mischievously, “If you keep this up, I might think that deep down, you’re actually… kind.”
His confusion clears and he smirks at me. “You better not go around telling people shit like that.”
I laugh, looking both ways before we cross the parking lot. “Don’t worry. I promise not to ruin your big, bad reputation.”
“You better not.”
His words are playful, but they unlock a few memories of things I’ve heard about him, things it’s a lot easier not to think about when we’re together.
He’s not a nice guy.
I don’t ignore that voice of caution in the back of my head, but it’s hard to entirely heed it when I look over and see him carrying groceries he bought for me to his car, the car he’s giving me a ride home in because he’s paying for the repairs on mine.
These are all really nice things to do, and what ulterior motive could he possibly have?
Maybe he really just likes me.
I guess it’s not so hard to believe. It’s not like I’m some ogre, and maybe he’s right—even if he was joking—about saving my life forging some kind of bond between us. I certainly didn’t feel it that night—he was too busy being an asshole—but when it’s just the two of us, he’s like a different person.
A person I like?
I shove the thought away because it doesn’t matter.
Dare is with Anae—even if it doesn’t seem like he even likes her very much. I don’t like her, but maybe that doesn’t mean he and I can’t be friends.
Friends?
I guess maybe we are becoming friends.
I don’t have time for friends, but with my stupid car being in the shop, it does give us an opportunity to get to know each other we wouldn’t have otherwise had. I don’t get the feeling friendship with Dare would be as much of a time commitment, either. He has tons of friends; he won’t wilt without my attention.
It could be kind of perfect.
Chapter ten
Aubrey
I stand on the curb in front of my house waiting for Dare to pick me up for school.
It feels strange waiting for him. Self-consciousness creeps up on me and I’m not sure why.
It’s a nice, warm day, so I decided to wear a skirt. I don’t have many skirts. I rarely wear them, so I’m not sure why I wanted to today, but I can’t stop tugging at it. The soft white fabric only extends to the edge of my fingertips if I lift my shoulders, so hopefully, no one bothers to check and see if I’m obeying the dress code. Faculty members never bother the rich kids, but sometimes if the less privileged students wear something that breaks the rules, they get sent home to change.
After what feels like a long time, Dare’s car finally pulls up in front of my house.
My heart jumps. I offer a little smile and pull my backpack strap tighter over my shoulder as I walk around to the other side. I check to make sure no cars are coming, then I open the door and quickly slide in.
“Hey,” I say in greeting, moving my heavy backpack to my lap.
Dare looks pleasantly surprised as his gaze rakes over what I’m wearing. My face heats. I’ve felt so stupid since the moment I put it on—the white skirt, the butter yellow cami top underneath, and then a white cardigan over it. I feel like a daisy, but he really seems to like it.
“You should wear more skirts,” he states.
My skin heats even more. “Oh. Thank you. I mean, that wasn’t a compliment, it was a…” I stop talking, mortified, and clear my throat. “I don’t have many skirts.”
Dare smirks, shifting out of park. “I’ll buy you some.”
I don’t take it as a real offer so I don’t bother telling him no thanks.
I didn’t think through the skirt. My backpack is heavy so I have to spread my legs like I did yesterday to get it on the floor, but when I do, Dare’s gaze gets caught on my bare legs.
I flush but pretend not to notice as I shove my bag to the floor and pull my seatbelt across my lap to secure it. “Thanks for the ride.”
His gaze still lingers on my legs. I fight the urge to tug at the material and pull it lower. That’ll just make it obvious I’m noticing.
Finally, his gaze lifts to meet mine. “No problem. Thanks for dolling up for me.”
My blood freezes in my veins. So does my face. I can’t believe he said that. “I… I didn’t.”
He smirks, shifting his attention back to the road. “Sure you didn’t.” He doesn’t give me long enough to muster a response before he goes on. “How’s your mom feeling today?”
I’m even more stunned he’s asking after my mom’s wellbeing than I am that he called me out on wearing a skirt for him. “She’s… tired.”
He nods like that’s understandable. “I meant to ask, but what stage is her cancer? Is she undergoing any current treatment?”
I stare at him.
Since I don’t answer, he glances over at me. “I’m only asking because my family knows a specialist. I know you said you’ve tried everything, and I believe you, but this guy’s been called a miracle worker. He’s always up on cutting edge research and trials. A friend of my mom’s went to him a few years ago when she was almost to stage four and about out of hope. Whatever experimental treatment he got her into, it worked. She made a full recovery and has been cancer-free since. I don’t want to get your hopes up or anything, but if you wanted me to give him a call, maybe he could meet with your mom and see if there’s anything he can do for her.”
My chest feels tight. The number of times I’ve found hope only to have it snatched away after a long, soul-deadening fight that ended in defeat…
I’m afraid to hope again, but it’s impossible not to. It’s a cruel game, but when you want something so badly, you have to grab at it every time it’s dangled.
“Are you serious? She isn’t doing treatments anymore, we’ve pretty much exhausted all our resources and nothing has worked, so she decided to stop putting her body through all of it and just enjoy the time she has left. We still do what we can, of course. The stuff the nutritionist told us to do, like I still make her a cup of matcha tea every morning and stuff like that, but as far as chemo and other treatments… She has pretty much done everything. None of it worked.”
“Well, it’s your call, of course, but if you want me to reach out, I can.”
“She’s immunocompromised at this point, so we try not to go out in public when we don’t have to. Is there any way you could set up a phone or video call first, just to make sure going there wouldn’t be a total waste?”
“Sure, I can ask him.”
Hope wraps around my heart. “That would be amazing, Dare. Thank you so much.”
He looks over at me and smiles faintly. “No problem.”
My heart hammers in my chest as I consider opening all this up again, talking to my mom about it. I know she’s exhausted, but if there’s a chance I could keep her, I have to try. It’s all I want in the world.
I look over at him. “Um… can you also find out how much the treatment would cost? Since the divorce, Mom doesn’t have insurance anymore, and mine is the only income. I’m guessing your family friend probably wasn’t as worried about money. If he thinks there’s a chance it might work, I’ll pay whatever, I just have to figure out how. Maybe I can get another credit card. Most of ours are nearly maxed out. I have a few months left if I’m extremely careful, but… our financial situation isn’t great.”
“You only work part-time, right?”
I nod. “It’s all I can swing while I’m in school and taking care of Mom. I talked to her about dropping out so I can get a second job or go full-time, but she won’t hear it, and honestly… I’d rather spend the time with her now and work after she’s—” My throat closes, not wanting to let the awful words out. “After she’s gone. I already know I’ll have to spend next year working non-stop to put even a small dent in my debt instead of going to college, but that’s fine. I can make more money, but I can’t get more time with Mom.”
“Understandable. Have you considered a side hustle?”
I glance over at him. “Sure. Know of any that pay like $600 for an hour of work?” I joke.
He smirks. “Maybe. Depends on what kind of work you’re willing to do.”
“If there’s a pole involved, it’ll have to wait until next year,” I joke. “Too many germs.”
He cocks an eyebrow like he’s surprised I’d even joke about stripping, but he’s never needed money as desperately as I do, so he can’t understand I’m hardly joking.
When we pull into his parking spot at school today, it seems like there are even more people standing around talking out front.
I didn’t hear from Anae after I showed up with him yesterday, even after that girl probably snapped our picture, but showing up with him a second time is bound to draw even more attention.
“I’ll have my car back after school today, right?” I ask as I pull the latch and shove my car door open.
“I’ll update you at lunch. I should hear back by then.”
“Perfect. Thank you again. I wanted to knee you in the crotch that first night, but you’ve really been a godsend ever since.”
