Bastard (11 page)

“Ha ha,” I reply as I reach over and playfully punch him in the arm. We both start laughing. I still have no idea where this thing is going between us, but I’m glad we’re kind of okay again.

When he doesn’t take the turn-off leading towards our street, I’m surprised. “Where are we going?” I ask.

“I’ve got to pick something up. I thought maybe we could grab a burger while we’re out.”

“I’d like that,” I tell him. It both pleases and surprises me that he’d want to hang out with me.

We pull up outside the place we ate at the other day. We even sit in the same booth. “You want the same thing again?” he asks. “I still can’t believe you ate all of that last time. Do you have hollow legs or something?”

“No,” I shrug. “I’ve always been a big eater.” He smiles and shakes his head.

“I don’t know where you put it. There’s nothing of you.”

While waiting for our food to arrive, we fall into easy conversation. Nothing dreary like last time, thankfully. When he’s not being a douche he’s actually quite funny. This would have to be the best we’ve ever gotten on.

“Thanks for bringing me here,” I say a while later as we leave the restaurant. “You’re actually not that bad when you’re being nice,” I joke, although I’m deadly serious. He drapes his arm over my shoulder.

“You’re pretty alright, too, for an annoying little kid,” he laughs. I playfully elbow him in the side. “I’m just messing with you. Hanging with you isn’t as painful as I thought it would be.” I smile because I know in his twisted sort of way that’s a compliment. He leads me towards Mr. Gregory’s shop.

“You’re not going to put more parts on hold are you? Don’t you think you should wait until you can afford the other ones first?” I ask.

“Actually, I’m here to pick them up,” he replies.

“I thought you didn’t have the money for them.” It makes me instantly suspicious.

“I didn’t. Let’s just say I happened to come into a little bit of money yesterday,” he says winking. My heart drops. I was right. He did go and see that whore-bag, his ex-landlady. I feel like I’m going to be sick. He promised me he wouldn’t go back there.

“Do you mind if I go and wait in the car?” I ask, trying my best to play it cool.

“Sure. You okay?”

“Yeah. I think I just ate too much,” I reply, forcing out a smile. He chuckles.

“You certainly can eat a lot for a squirt.”

“Ha ha,” I say sarcastically, holding my hand out for his car keys. Tears burn my eyes as I leave the shop. I take a few deep breaths to will the tears away, but a few manage to spill over. I quickly wipe them away with the back of my hand. I can’t believe he went back there. At least before he was doing it for his mum, for rent and for food. To sell your body for car parts though, that’s shameful.

Once I’m seated in the car, I pull my iPod and earplugs out of my bag. I need a distraction otherwise I might do something incredibly stupid, like burst into tears. I’m hurt. Maybe I have no right to be, but I am.

Flicking through my playlists, I find what I need. Placing the plugs into my ears, I press play. The first song booms to life. This playlist, funnily enough, is called ‘Distraction’. Perfect for what I need right now.

It has no sad or sappy songs on it, nothing that would make me sad or possibly cry. I actually made this list up last year. Every year on the anniversary of my mum’s death, or her birthday, my dad goes MIA. They’re the only two days of the year I cannot count on him for anything. He locks himself in the bedroom he once shared with my mother, with a bottle of scotch, and I don’t see him again until the next morning.

That’s where my ‘Distraction’ playlist comes in. As night falls and my dad’s bottle of scotch has been consumed, and the heartache of missing my mum settles in, he starts to cry. It breaks my heart. It’s the same thing every year. I wish more than anything I could take his pain away.

I’m sure he doesn’t realise that I can hear him, but I can. I usually lay in my bed and cry too … for him, for my mum, for our family. Last year I decided I wasn’t going to do it anymore. I can’t stand to hear him falling apart. He’s usually so strong and put together. I guess he’s allowed those two days a year to reflect and be consumed by his loss, hence the playlist. I listen to it until I fall asleep, trying hard not to think of my dad falling to pieces in his room.

A few minutes later there’s a tap on the window. Turning my head I find Mr. Gregory standing there, smiling. Pausing the music, I wind down my window. “Hello Indi,” he says.

“Hi, Mr. Gregory. How are you?”

“I’m good, and you?” he answers.

“I’m fine thanks.” Which is a lie. I’m far from fine.

“Well I just wanted to say hi. Best be getting back to the shop.”

“Goodbye,” I say, forcing out a smile.

“Bye. Tell your dad I said hello.”

“I will.” When he walks away I quickly put my earplugs back in and press play. If I continue to listen to the music on the way home, I won’t have to talk to Carter.

Leaning my head back on the headrest, I close my eyes. I don’t hear Carter get in the car because of the music, but I feel him. I know his eyes are on me, but I don’t look in his direction until I feel his hand tap my leg. Removing one of my earplugs, I turn my head to face him. “You feeling okay?” he asks.

“Yes. I’m fine.” Before he says another word, I reinsert the earplug and close my eyes again. That’s how I stay for the remainder of the drive. I feel his eyes boring into me a number of times on the way home, but I don’t dare look his way.

When we pull into his driveway, I remove my earplugs and reach for my bag on the floor. “You sure you’re alright? You’re acting weird,” he says as my hand grasps the door handle.

“Yep. I’m perfectly fine. I’ll see you later,” I answer glancing at him. Bad move. He looks hurt and that makes me feel like a bitch for the way I’m acting. His pleading eyes search out mine. I know he’s probably wondering what’s got into me.

“I’ve gotta go,” I say breaking his stare. I hear him sigh, but I ignore him. That makes me feel even worse.

••••

I feel the first tear fall as soon as I walk through the door. Twice in one day he’s made me cry. I’m not usually an emotional person. What is he doing to me? My dad’s at work at the moment, so I’m all alone. I’m used to it. It doesn’t usually bother me, but today it does.

Retrieving my phone out of my pocket, I call Meg. “Can I stay at your place tonight?” I ask as soon as she picks up.

“Are you crying, Indi?” I can hear the concern in her voice.

“Can I stay or not?”

“Of course. What’s wrong, babe?”

“I’ll talk to you when I get there,” I reply wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. I feel stupid for crying.

“I’ll get my mum to come and get you. We’ll be there in five minutes,” she says.

“Thank you.”

CHAPTER TEN

Carter

I have no idea what the fuck just happened. One minute we were actually getting on, the next minute things changed. She changed. Something’s going on with her, but I have no clue what. Fuck this shit. This is exactly why I never let my guard down and get close to people.

“How was school, sweetie?” my mum asks when I walk through the door.

“Okay,” I reply, kissing her cheek before heading to my room. I’m not in the mood for small talk right now. I’m still trying to figure out what made Indiana shift like she did. I’ve never seen her act so cold. It’s the first time I’ve ever completely been myself with someone other than my mother. The first time I’ve actually tried to be normal. Big fucking mistake. These damn walls are up for a reason.

My mum always tells me I need to open up and trust more. I trust her, but that’s about it. I know she’s right, though. I can’t hold what my grandfather did to us, against others. Logic tells me not everyone is like him. It’s a hard habit to break. It’s something I’ve been doing since I was five years old. That’s why I got my tattoo. As a reminder to
trust
. Well at least try. Look where trusting Indiana got me. Fucking nowhere.

Sitting on my bed, I rest my elbows on my knees and bury my face in my hands. My mind is trying to make sense of it all. I’m trying to remember exactly what I said to her, hoping that will give me the answers I seek.

I hear a car horn sound from next door. Gazing over towards Indi’s bedroom, I catch a glimpse of her as she throws a backpack over her shoulder and runs out of her room. Standing, I make my way towards the window. Where the fuck is she going?

Indiana

As soon as we arrive at Meg’s house, she drags me towards her bedroom. “Dinner will be ready in an hour girls,” her mum calls out.

“Thanks, Mum,” Meg replies.

“Thanks, Mrs. Miller,” I add. Meg closes the door once she’s pulled me inside her room. She takes my backpack off my back and drops it on the floor before leading me towards her bed with her hand between my shoulder blades.

“What the hell is going on with you?” she asks as soon as we are seated.

“One guess.”

“What has he done now?” Her face screws up with disgust.

“Nothing to me. Well kinda … it’s just …”

“Just what?”

“He told me something a few days ago. I’m not sure if I should tell you. It’s kind of personal and pretty bad,” I admit.

“Seriously, you have to tell me now.” I chuckle when she rubs her hands together and bounces on the bed with excitement. She thrives on gossip.

“I’m not sure if I should.” I’d feel like I’m betraying Carter if I tell her.

“Did he tell you not to tell anyone?” she asks. I know she’s saying this to try and get me to spill. She’s such a schemer.

“No.”

“Well what’s the problem then?” she asks, raising her eyebrows hopefully.

“I’d feel like I was betraying his trust. I’m not sure how he’d feel about me repeating it,” I tell her.

“That juicy huh?” She rubs her hands together again.

“Yes,” I laugh.

“Look, if you don’t want to tell me that’s fine. I respect that. But, I need you to know that not knowing is probably going to kill me.”

“You’re such a dork.”

“It’s up to you, babe. You know you can trust me. We tell each other everything. Maybe I can help if I know exactly what you’re dealing with,” she says. I trust her with my life. In my heart I know she’d never repeat anything I ever told her, just like she knows I wouldn’t do that to her.

“I guess,” I reply with a shrug.

“So you’re going to tell me?” she squeals. See what I mean, she thrives on this shit. There’s nothing funny about what I’m going to say. I know she’s going to be just as shocked as I was when he told me.

“Promise me this stays between us.” Although I know I don’t need to ask.

“Pinky promise,” she says holding her little finger up to me. Wrapping my little finger around hers we shake on it. I take a deep breath before I speak.

As I tell her everything Carter told me, her eyes almost bug out of her head. “No fucking way.” She’s gobsmacked. This is no pissy little thing. It’s huge.

“Yes way. See why I was hesitant in telling you?” Her mouth is still open. I’m sure I must’ve looked the same when Carter confessed it to me. It still upsets me that he had to go through that.

“He got paid to have sex?” she deadpans.

“Uh huh.”

“Fuck. He must be good. All the more reason you should jump his bones.” Her eyes drift up towards the ceiling and she breaks out into a smile. Oh. My. God. She’s thinking about his sexual skills, I know it. I reach out and slap her arm.

“You’re disgusting,” I laugh.

“So is that why you’re upset?” she asks rubbing her arm. Hello. Is she even listening?

“Yes and no.”

Meg reaches her hand out, putting it over mine. “You know what guys are like. They think with their dick not their brain, babe.”

“I blame his landlady, not him. He was only fifteen. She took advantage of him.”

“Does he see it that way?” Instead of answering, I shake my head. “Of course he wouldn’t. He was getting laid and getting paid. Show me one fifteen year old horny male that wouldn’t jump at that chance.”

“I suppose,” I reply. “But, I still think it’s disgusting.”

“Depends how old the landlady is. If she’s like eighty in the shade then that’s nasty.” We both laugh at her comment.

“She was in her thirties, he said,” I tell her in a disgusted tone as I roll my eyes.

“Pfff,” she says flicking her wrist. “I know plenty of people in their thirties that are still hot. This all happened before you even met him, so it shouldn’t really bother you.”

“Well that’s the thing. He promised me he wouldn’t go there again,” I confess.

“And he did? Is that where he was yesterday?” she asks, her eyes widening as she waits for my answer.

“I think so. He had some parts on hold at Mr. Gregory’s shop because he couldn’t afford them. Today, he had the money.”

“That’s doesn’t mean he got it from her. Maybe his mum gave it to him.” If it hadn’t been so much money, then that could’ve been a possibility.

“The parts were over a thousand dollars, Meg. His mum doesn’t work and I can’t see Mr. Shepard forking over that kind of cash. When I asked him where the money came from, he said that he’d come into some money yesterday, but didn’t elaborate. How is a seventeen year old going to earn over a thousand dollars in one day without, you know …?”

“Shit, if she paid him that much money just for sex, he must be fucking amazing in bed. Like, mind-blowing.” She’s probably right, but I have no plans of finding out. I need to stay as far away from Carter-friggin’-Reynolds as I can get. It’s going to be hard when I live next door to him, but if I want to protect my heart I don’t have a choice.

Carter

I sat up half the night waiting for her to come home, but she never did. By morning I’m fucking pissed off. Pissed I let my guard down with her. Pissed that she weirded out on me and I have no clue why. Pissed that she never came home.

I don’t even bother waiting to give her a lift to school. What’s the point? Even if she was home, after her performance yesterday afternoon she probably wouldn’t accept one anyway. Fuck her. Maybe it’s for the best if we go back to what we were.
Nothing.
This shit is too complicated. It hurts my fucking head.