“I’ll pick you up at two o’clock tomorrow,” Sara said as I got out of the car.
“Have fun at the game tonight,” I told her, leaning in the car. “All the nominees get announced onto the field at half time, right?” She rolled her eyes at the thought of being paraded in front of the spectators. I laughed and closed the door.
~~~~~
I practically hummed through my chores the next morning. I was looking forward to getting out of the house for the last game before the playoffs and the ice cream Evan, Sara and I were going to try to sneak in on the way home. After replacing the trash bag in the kitchen, I turned to go back to my room to find Carol blocking my path.
“What are you up to?” she demanded.
“I don’t understand,” I said slowly, recognizing the fire in her eyes. My body tensed, evaluating her stance and checking to see if she was holding anything in her hands. Her hands were empty and set firmly on her hips.
“Are you f**king someone?” she accused with disgust. My jaw dropped open. “I don’t know what you’re up to, but you don’t seem to care about anyone other than yourself - even more than usual. When I figure it out, you’ll wish you never treated me with such disrespect.”
Confusion swirled with anxiety as the tension continued to build. I couldn’t find the words to provide her with the proper answer to her illogical accusations.
“Maybe you should be spending more time at home, so I know what you’re up to.”
“I’m sorry,” I blurted, not knowing what else to say. I was terrified by the thought of being confined within these walls any longer than I was already sentenced, and it was the first thing that came out of my mouth. My head rocked to the right as her closed fist collided with my jaw. My hand instinctively covered where she made contact as my eyes watered from the force of the blow.
A sharp breath inhaled, but not from me, followed by whimpers. I looked toward the small sounds and found Jack and Leyla standing with big eyes in the dining room. Leyla was crying, her sobs muffled by her small hand that hung from her mouth. Big tears soaked her soft, round cheeks. Jack was silent, but his wide shocked eyes were more painful than Leyla’s uncontrollable sobs. My heart broke as I stepped to comfort them. Carol grabbed my arm, stopping me.
“Look what you’ve done,” she growled, glaring at me with her cold hateful eyes. “Get out of my sight.” I allowed the heart wrenching image of Leyla and Jack’s terrified faces to brand me before retreating to my room.
I threw myself on my bed and cried into my pillow. My heart ached as their image continued to burn in my head. They were never supposed to see. It was never supposed to touch them. I couldn’t contain my spasms as I cried harder, stifling my moans with my pillow. I was supposed to protect them from this. The guilt consumed me until I couldn’t cry anymore and sunk into a draining sleep.
My body tensed with a streak of pain across the back of my legs. I shook out of my slumber, not certain if I’d dreamt it. The second lash against my bare skin confirmed my waking nightmare.
“You selfish cunt.” I recognized the words through clenched teeth.
I pulled my legs into me, covering my head with my hands, leaving my back exposed. With each rageful swing, my body recoiled, receiving the sharp burning lashes with a jaw tightened grunt.
“How could you hurt them like that?” she demanded, with a fury that made her almost unintelligible. “I knew I should never have let you set foot in my home - you’ve destroyed everything.” Her hatred streaked across my back as she swung wildly. I could barely breathe. I clenched my teeth harder, tensing with each strike, unable to escape.
“You f**king worthless piece of shit. You should never have been born.” She continued with her expletives, inaudible to my ears. I remained in my protective ball, shutting her off, and blocking out the fire emblazoning my flesh – searching for an escape. I retreated deeper until I was no longer in the room with her, blocking out the pain and rage and the tears dripping off my nose.
“I don’t want to see you for the rest of the day,” she grunted in exhaustion, leaving my room.
I remained still for another minute, listening to my erratic pulse thumping in my ears and my breath quivering with each inhale. I slowly unwrapped myself, my back an inferno. I turned to sit on the edge of my bed, looking down at my trembling hands, embossed with red streaks.
I leaned forward, my forearms on my thighs, forcing the air to pass through my lungs at a slow even pace. That’s when I noticed the thin leather belt coiled on the floor. Anger overtook me, slithering around my heart. I continued to breathe deeply through my nose with a clenched jaw. I was consumed by loathing, allowing the venom to pump fervently through my veins. I didn’t have the strength to push it away. Instead, I let it rest under my skin and feed my weary muscles. I stood to prepare for my game.
I slid gingerly into Sara’s car, sitting up straight to avoid contact with the seat.
“Hi,” she began with a smile, and stopped short – her smile instantly fading. I knew what I looked like, and her eyes reflected back the same image I had seen in my mirror. My face was pale, contrasting with the dark circles under my withdrawn, vacant eyes. I kept my lips pressed together, afraid of being betrayed by a gasp of pain. I couldn’t look at her, but I didn’t try to be anything different than the person she stared at in horror.
She slowly pulled away, unable to say anything. We drove in silence for a moment until she finally demanded, “I need you to tell me what happened.” I kept my eyes directed toward the side window, without seeing the passing scenery.
“Emma, please.” I could hear the desperation in her voice.
“It’s nothing, Sara,” I said flatly, still unwilling to look at her.
We arrived at the school without saying another word. Absently, I walked to the field, not noticing Sara walking beside me until a few girls greeted us. As we approached the field, I pulled the hood of my sweatshirt over my head, focusing on the ground, ignoring everyone around me. The varsity game was the only game being played, so as soon as the other team arrived, we gathered for our pre-game warm-ups.
The first half of the game was an agonizing blur. I couldn’t focus, and my legs failed me when I sprinted to a pass. I ended up quickly passing the ball off or was unable to intercept it at all. At half time, Coach Peña pulled me aside.
“Are you okay?” he asked, the concern reflecting in his eyes. “You seem stiff out there. Are you hurt?”
“I think I moved wrong and pulled something in my back,” I lied, looking down.
“Do you want the trainer to look at it?”
“No.” The urgent words came out too quickly; shock flashed across his eyes. “I’ll be fine, really,” I pleaded.
“Okay.” He paused. “I’ll sit you out the second half, so you don’t push it. I can’t afford to have you injured for the quarter finals on Friday.” I nodded.
We returned to the team that was gathered around the bench. To everyone’s surprise, Coach Peña told Katie Brennan she was starting the second half in my place. I sat with my hood over my head and my hands in my pocket, avoiding the questioning stares.
When the final whistle blew, I rushed to the locker room before anyone knew I was gone. I knew I’d have the locker room to myself since everyone usually went home to shower and change. It was a quick shower with the warm water burning my inflamed skin, making it difficult to breathe. I was getting dressed with my back to the door when I heard footsteps behind me. I should have pulled the curtain shut behind me, but it didn’t matter now.
I didn’t turn around and the person behind me didn’t say anything. I delicately pulled the turtleneck over my head, covering my marks of disgrace. Unable to avoid the confrontation any longer, I turned to face Sara. She was sitting on the bench across from me with tears running down her cheeks and her jaw tensed. She looked… broken.
“I can’t,” she began, but choked on the words. Sara stopped to breathe it away before uttering, “I can’t do this anymore.” I could only stare at her, watching her crumble. A wall encased me, separating me so I wouldn’t break with her. “I can’t ignore it; I can’t pretend that I don’t see what she’s doing to you.”
Sara’s shoulders sunk as she slowly lifted her head, revealing the tears streaming down her cheeks. “Emma, you have to tell someone.” Her words sounded desperate and urgent. “If you don’t, then I will.”
“No, you won’t,” I snapped. My tone was coated with ice that made Sara wince.
“What do you mean?” she demanded, even more passionately. “Did you see your back? The blood was seeping through your shirt during the game. Emma, I’m afraid some morning when I pull up to get you, you won’t come out. I care about you, and I can’t watch her do this to you.”
“Then don’t,” I stated coldly. I was disconnected from my thoughts, and the words dug into Sara like daggers. She recoiled with each jab. This was a confrontation I never saw coming, and my defenses were heightened, not willing to let her jeopardize everything I’d sacrificed to protect Leyla and Jack.
“You won’t tell anyone about me, and I won’t tell anyone about how you f**k every other guy that gives you the time of day.”
Sara’s eyes widened filled with pain; the mortal blow had been driven. “You’re not the only one who’s good at keeping her mouth shut. I know exactly who you are Sara, so don’t think for one minute you know what’s good for me.”
“You bitch,” she murmured, the shock settling into her shoulders as she practically disintegrated in front of me. “You f**king bitch.” She couldn’t look up at me, covering her face to conceal the cascade of tears.
“Stay out of my life. And keep your mouth shut.” I took my possessed body and left her fighting to gain control of her breath after my verbal assault. I didn’t look back. With my bag in hand, I walked away – not truly comprehending what I’d just done, and at that moment, I didn’t really care.
Jason and Evan were waiting outside the building when I walked out of the school.
“Sorry about the loss,” Evan said. Then he looked at me, taken aback, like he didn’t recognize me.
“Can you drive me home?” I asked before he could say anything.
“Sure,” he answered, deciding it was best not to ask the question that flashed across his eyes. Jason remained quiet as we left him waiting for Sara.
I gave him directions in a foreign flat tone when we drove out of the parking lot.
Unable to contain the question any longer, he asked, “What happened with Sara?”
I stared out the window, not wanting to think about what I’d done – letting the question dissipate into the air. He let my silence answer for me and kept driving.
“Do you want to talk about it?” he offered gently. I could feel him looking at me, but I kept staring out the window. I shook my head and held my hands together to conceal the shaking.