CHAPTER TWO
“Expelled? Tell me you’re kidding, Holden. You can’t be expelled. How will you graduate?”
My pencil sketched across the paper, a soft scratching sound, the feet of a mouse running over the floor. Scritch, scritch, scritch. I loved this sound, craved it, and the silence that came with it.
The image came to life through the shading, eyes watching me, the soft angles of a gentle face, smiling.
Sitting on my bed, hunched over paper, I brushed away the lead dust, not caring that it stained my skin. “Guess I won’t graduate.” A negligible shrug of my shoulder. “Not that it matters. I can get a diploma from one of those adult schools. I’m eighteen now.”
The mattress dipped with Deli’s weight, not that it was a lot of weight. She was tiny compared to me. Maybe that’s why she could jump and twirl, spin and move like she was fluid and boneless. She’d always danced, always wanted to join gymnastics or cheerleading. Our family never could afford it, at least until Michaela’s mom offered to sponsor her.
“Is Michaela mad?”
I didn’t know what I would do if Michaela’s mom kicked Deli out of dance. It would my fault, but for a good reason. I kept reminding myself of that. Clive had no right to touch my sister. I’d break his hand if he did it again. But still, Deli lived for her dance squad. All she talked about was the upcoming competitions. All she did was practice, even to the point where exhaustion rode her body, dark circles bruising the skin beneath her eyes when she’d pushed herself too hard.
“No,” Deli finally breathed out. “Michaela doesn’t like Clive. And she’s mad at Jack for shoving her down. But, she’s mad at you, too.”
Soft laughter shook my shoulders, my pencil tracing another long line through my sketch. “Why would I care if she’s mad at me? Michaela and I haven’t spoken two words to each other since we were kids.”
Deli scoffed, the small sound causing me to laugh a little more. “Michaela isn’t a bad person, Holden-“
“I never said she was,” I argued. My eyes peered up at my sister. Sometimes it was so hard to see her all grown up. Every time I thought of her, I saw her as the small five year old that would chase after me constantly. She always wanted to do what I was doing, even if she didn’t have the strength to climb the same trees, or the talent with a pencil and paintbrush. But what she lacked in that particular talent, she made up for with her ability to move as if gravity itself didn’t apply to her. “She’s not the best person, either. And I don’t trust her to watch out for you around the football team. Especially Clive and Jack.”
Deli grew quiet, her expression thoughtful. When I met her eyes, she averted her gaze, her head bowing down, her hair falling into place as a curtain to hide her eyes. Absently, she picked at a pulled string on my comforter. “What happened today-“
“Will never happen again. Clive is bad news, Deli. Probably the worst of all of them.” My hand stopped, the soft scritch of lead against paper dying off. “Why did you let him touch you? Especially like that. Where everybody could see what he was doing. You’re smarter than that.”
Her shoulders shrank together, her tiny body huddling over itself because she knew I was right. With a voice as tiny as her, she admitted, “I just want to fit in. You know how hard it is for us. Without money and everything that comes with it, we’re nothing but the help. Nobody took me seriously until I joined the dance team. But now...”
Her voice trailed off and all I wanted to do was pull her into my arms and hug away all the pain and self-doubt inside her. Yes, I knew what it felt like to be invisible. I knew how kids like us were treated by the wealthy kids who had no clue how hard it was for people not born into the same power and influence as their families. But unlike Deli, I didn’t care much. I never cared.
As far I was concerned, graduation was a line of demarcation, a moment dividing what my life had been and what my life would become. I had no plans to stay in Tranquil Falls. And now that I was most likely expelled from school, that line moved closer. I could jump in my car and haul ass finally. The only problem was that I’d have to leave Deli behind. Without me here to watch, what would those bastards do to her?
My voice softened to see her so insecure. She, of all people, shouldn’t feel that way. She was a shining star in a sea of the same boring faces. Almost every student was a carbon copy of the other. But not Deli. She had a bright future. Brighter than all of them. And brighter than me. Maybe that’s why I felt the need to watch out for her, to protect her even if it hurt my chances to succeed. “You need to stay away from them, Deli. I’ve already told you what those guys do to girls. And don’t think I don’t know you asked mom and dad to go to the party tonight. Even if they had given you permission, I would have stopped you. I’ll kill every single one of them if they hurt you like they’ve hurt a lot of other girls.”
I heard the sniffle before I saw the tear fall to her lap. She tried to hide her pain, but I could always see it. I hated that pain, wanted to rip it out of her and absorb it into myself, take it as my own, shoulder the burden so she could be lighter on her feet and dance free.
“I know Michaela is your friend, but when it comes down to a choice, she’ll choose them over you. She’ll let them hurt you if it means she doesn’t get hurt in the process. She’s weak, Deli. And although I’m happy she’s nice to you, I don’t trust her. She’s another carbon copy. Another facsimile. Another one of them, just with a friendlier smile. Don’t forget that.”
Another sniffle before, “She would never hurt me.”
A sigh escaped my lips, my own shoulders withering in response to hers. “Maybe not directly, Deli, but she wouldn’t stop them from hurting you. She’s not strong enough.”
“She has her own problems,” she argued.
“I know.” And I did know, I’d watched Michaela get pushed around since she was a kid. Not just by her friends, but by her parents, her teachers, anybody she deemed to have influence or authority over her. Michaela was so afraid of losing her status that she went along with whatever crowd gathered around her. She was another sheep, a black one within a sea of white, maybe, but still a sheep.
Dropping my pencil on top of my sketchpad, I shoved both aside and reached for my sister. I would have pulled her in for a hug, the size of my body swallowing hers, but an angry voice boomed from the living room, the sound of the front door slamming causing both Deli and me to flinch.
“Holden Bishop! You get your butt out here this instant, young man!”
Mom’s voice screeched at about two octaves higher than her normal tone. Hearing how mad she was, I had no doubt my father was on his way home. He was her back up, the strength behind her, the man who gave me my dark hair and broad shoulders. Only problem was, he didn’t have my strength. He was a yes-man, a coffee fetcher, another sheep like Michaela that depended on the scraps offered to him by those who were stronger and more powerful. I wished I respected him, but I didn’t. He wasn’t strong enough to protect my mom...to protect Deli.
“Mom sounds really mad,” Deli whispered. “I don’t want to see what happens when dad gets home.”
“You have nothing to worry about,” I promised. “I won’t tell them why I started the fight. As long as you promise never to let Clive touch you like that again.”
Her voice was barely a rush of breath in the quiet room. “I won’t let him touch me again.”
Nodding, I pulled my lip ring between my teeth, playing the metal over the enamel as a nervous habit. It wasn’t that my parents scared me, I just hated being the disappointment again. I knew they worked hard, knew they struggled to give Deli and I everything they could, but I still couldn’t find it within me to respect them.
We should have moved away a long time ago, left this town and the pompous elite behind with it. But they’d stayed thinking that something might change eventually. I knew it wouldn’t, but that’s what you deal with when you’re the only smart one in a sea of stupid - you see the end coming while everybody else smiles and drools, too dumb to know when they’re being led to the slaughter.
“Holden!”
“I better go.”
Getting up to leave, I was surprised when Deli reached up to wrap her arms over my shoulders. I could easily pick her up with one arm, easily carry her through life if I had to. She was the only person that mattered to me. Regretting that I had to peel her away, I gave her a wan smile. “Don’t worry, little sis. It’s not like mom and dad are going to kill me. I’ll still be here tomorrow.”
“You better,” she whispered, a small smile tugging at her lips beneath the tears.
I gave her one last look, sticking out my tongue like when we were kids. She stuck hers out in return, crossing her eyes just to be funny. I loved that girl and didn’t care that siblings should squabble. There was no reason to fight when your sister had a heart of gold.
Breathing out, I walked down the hall to find mom. Knowing what was coming didn’t make it any easier. But I was willing to take the hit for what I’d done, and I’d do it all over again, rage day in and day out to protect Delilah from the world.
Stepping into the living room and seeing mom’s face made me wonder if my days were numbered. Her blond hair was a messy bun on her head, her normally bright blue eyes dull with exhaustion and grief. Still wearing the black pants and green shirt that was her typical work uniform, she scowled in my direction, the lines of her forehead razor sharp. “Do you want to tell me why, after everything we’ve done to keep you in that school, you thought it was a good idea to fight?”
Her voice grew louder, her small frame appearing larger as she put her hands on her hips and craned her neck to look up at me. My mother wasn’t a weak woman by any means, she’d labored and slaved to get where she was in life, but she still found herself bowing down to the status quo, still considered herself inferior to the women who employed her and treated her like a second class citizen.
“What are you going to do now, Holden? Where are you going to work and how are you going to earn money without a high school diploma? I spoke to your principal and they’re done with you! Do you hear me? Done! Why in the name of everything that’s holy did you attack those two boys? Are you crazy?”
If there was one word in this world that drove me to rage, it was crazy. I’d been called that for most of my life, been told I was somehow wrong because I didn’t see the world the same as everyone else. I was a big guy, strong. I’d had my share of girlfriends. But I was different.
Instead of wearing the standard clothes preferred by most of the preppy jocks in my school, I preferred black. Black shirts, black jeans, black jackets, black beanies, you name it. With my dark hair and piercings, most people referred to me as a Goth. And maybe with my choice in music and my love of art, they were only slightly right. I didn’t sit around mourning my existence, and I wasn’t the great intellectual that sat on my perch looking down at the rest of the fools who didn’t know better. I wasn’t Goth, or Emo, or whatever title it was they used to describe me. I was just me. Myself. A man who wanted nothing more than to forget this bullshit town and find my way elsewhere.
But if you asked anyone else, they would tell you I was insane. Crazy. Deserving of a padded cell. Just because I refused to bow down, refused to fall in line with what was expected of me.
I was the King of Freaks because I wasn’t like everyone else.
Screw them all.
“Don’t call me that,” I warned.
Crossing her arms over her chest, her scowled deepened. “Well, maybe if you didn’t act like a lunatic, I wouldn’t have to say that word! You could have been arrested for assault, Holden! You’re lucky those boys chose not to press charges. You broke Jack Thorne’s nose!”
That pleased me to hear. The bastard deserved it after shoving Michaela down, but I didn’t vocalize the thought. It would only piss her off more.
“Why, Holden? Tell me why!”
“They looked at me funny,” I lied. Refusing to drag Deli into this mess, I held my tongue, bit the inside of my cheek to keep from telling mom everything Clive was doing, was most likely planning to do to ruin my sister. Yeah, she was old enough to make decisions on her own, but she was innocent in mind. Not stupid or slow, just overly trusting. She was such a good person, she believed other people were good too.
My mom’s scowl deepened, our screaming match interrupted when my dad came through the door and slammed his briefcase down on a table. “Turn around, Holden.”
His tone of voice was off, the deep growl spinning me in place just before he surged forward, his fist raised as if to hit me. Caught by surprise, I couldn’t dodge the blow in time. Guess breaking the nose of the son of his employer was enough to make my father violent. He’d never hit me before.
“Dylan, stop!”
My mother attempted to jump in between us, but the damage had already been done. Rubbing at my jaw, I stared at my dad, my eyes shading over with red, my violence coming to the surface to be caught off guard. If mom hadn’t been standing between us, I would have lunged back at him, would have shown him that I may be younger, but I wasn’t smaller, and I wouldn’t put up with any person thinking they could hit me and get away with it.
Spit flew from my father’s mouth as he screamed at me, his face red with anger, his shoulders trembling with the rage he couldn’t contain. I smiled, the feral expression pushing him further into his loss of control.
“I am sick and tired of having a freak for a son! We’ve been embarrassed by your bullshit long enough, Holden, and as far as I’m concerned, you can get the hell out of my house and find somewhere else to live. I was almost fired today because you can’t control your urges. You’re out of control and I’m not putting up with it. If you want to stay in this house, you’ll apologize to those boys tomorrow while gathering your stuff from school now that you’ve been kicked out.”
Apologize? For what? Defending my sister? I’d apologize the day Hell froze over. “I’m not apologizing.”
My dad swung again, knocking my mom aside so he could get to me. Dodging the blow, I laughed when he stumbled. He may have thought he was big and bad, but he wasn’t. Losing his balance, my dad fell to the floor, his face twisted in rage as he screamed, “Get out! You can take your freakshow ass on the road and sleep in your car for all I care! Get out of my house!”
He didn’t have to tell me twice.
Snatching my keys from the table, I stepped around him and headed for the front door. My mother was kneeling down beside him, my sister standing at the end of the hall watching the entire fight with tears in her eyes. I hated that I couldn’t comfort her, but if I didn’t leave now, this would only get worse.
I winked at Deli before walking outside, a quick gesture between siblings, a silent promise that I would be fine. Her worry saturated the air around me, making life feel heavier, this moment more significant than it should have been. I didn’t understand it at that moment, but Delilah must have known this would be the end of what had been our normal. She must have intuited that what we had known and what we’d loved would be turned upside down so fast that we both would be left drowning beneath the surface of circumstances and tragedy.
Anger has a way of blinding you to intuition, to what’s important, to what has been and what could have been.
Slamming the door, I marched to my junker of a car, climbed into the driver’s seat and peeled out of my parent’s driveway. Fishtailing as I took the turn off our street a touch too fast, I ignored the ice on the road, the slickness beneath my tires, the danger of winter’s wrath. All I cared about was getting away, getting far, and getting there as fast as the car could carry me.
I should have known escape could never be that easy.
I was on the main road through town, traveling over the train tracks toward the school. The twenty-four hour diner passed by, a blur of lights that were dim and drab compared to the holiday decorations tied to lampposts and strung through trees. Hitting a slick patch of ice, I almost lost control, my car spinning, my headlights flashing against the buildings and shops that were closed for the night. But it wasn’t the spin that stopped me. That mistake was easy enough to correct. It was the sputtering of my engine that locked me in place, the smoke billowing out like an omen from beneath the hood.
My car wasn’t something I would ever call reliable.
Pulling to the side, I threw the car in park, cussing and raging as I climbed out of the driver’s seat to kick the tires several times. The least this piece of junk could do was get me outside of Tranquil Falls far enough to hitchhike down the main highway. It was like a force field had gone up, trapping me in this town, in this life, in this miserable existence.
Rounding the front end, I opened the hood, fanned my hands to drive the hot smoke away, and looked down at an engine that should have been replaced when I first bought this clunker.
I didn’t know that fate was heading toward me at a speed not safe for icy roads.
I should have looked up in time to see the headlights heading straight for me.
I should have made a lot of different decisions that day - decisions that wouldn’t have permanently altered the entire course of my young life.