Family Ties (5 page)

CHAPTER NINE

Jason sits down next to me, looking pleased with himself.

“What’s up with that canary-eating grin, Waters?” Arissa asks with a half-grin of her own.

“I made the basketball team,” he answers, maintaining eye contact with her and rooting around in his backpack.

We congratulate him at the same time, smiling.

“Thanks.” He places a thick paperback book in front of me.

Les Misérables
by Victor Hugo.

“What’s this? I ask.

“Your bribe.”

He gives me a classic rather than a popular dystopian or paranormal romance novel, knowing my likes are different than other girls. “Thank you.” I smile.

“Will you go to the game with me tonight?” he asks, his smile seeping into his eyes.

Arissa coughs and sputters, but my eyes stay trained on his. A rich honey drizzle I find harder to resist with each passing day.

We can only be friends, I remind myself. “Your girlfriend.”

“I broke up with her yesterday.”

I stare at him, stunned. “I—I—I can’t,” I stammer. I’m damaged goods.

Arissa kicks me under the table and I glare at her.

“I’m going with Arissa and her parents,” I elaborate.

“We can hang out,” he says.

This isn’t going to work. “I don’t know. My parents don’t want me dating. I don’t want to get in trouble.”

“It’s just hanging out, Parker.”

“You don’t understand, J. They check up on me with people they know here.” I don’t know who they are. I just know there have always been people at my schools who tell them what I do and who I’m with. It’s how they were able to keep me from making friends until Arissa moved in. With Arissa and Jason in the picture, they have less control, but still have eyes. I can’t take the risk. 

“That’s seriously fucked up,” Arissa says.

Jason covers my hand with his. “I’ll be there and if we happen to run into each other, then we run into each other.”

Arissa and I leave the concession stand with drinks in hand. Jason steps out of the line and walks with us. “Can we talk?” he asks me.

“I don’t know if it’s a good idea,” I reply.

“Just over there.” He nods at the gate the football players come through from the locker room. “And it’ll be quick.”

I turn to Arissa.

“I’ll wait here,” she says, taking my drink.

He faces me at the fence, setting a hand on my arm above my cast. I step back, shaking my head.

Big Brother is watching.

“Parker, I like you.”

His revelation sets off a storm inside me. My heart beats like a violent downpour and my head swirls in a gust. I grab the fence, steadying myself.

I don’t know how to respond. Until he asked me to the game, I always thought he was being nice.

“Why me?” I ask. Probably stupid, but I can’t take it back now. “You had a girlfriend until yesterday.”

“You’re smart, pretty, funny, and you aren’t needy for attention.”

His answer comes so quickly I wonder if he’s rehearsed it. I shift on my feet and gaze into the darkness beyond the fence.

It will never work. My parents will never allow it.

“I’m not the girl for you, J.”

CHAPTER TEN

The walk home from Dr. Bannister’s office is long and lonely without Arissa. I’m so used to her company now it’s odd to feel lonely outside my house.

My arm looks like a withered twig from six weeks of no use while in the cast. 

My parents are home when I arrive.

“What took you so fucking long?” Father demands before I can close the door.

“It’s not like Dr. Bannister is around the corner,” I answer, heading for my room.

“Don’t you fucking talk back to me!”

His feet thunder against the floor and I dash to my room with my heart pounding. I slam my door shut, drop my backpack then press my back against the closed door and slide to the ground.

The doorknob twists and the door knocks me forward with the force he uses. But it isn’t enough to clear me from the doorway. The door pushes me again with a loud thud that I can only guess is my father throwing his body into the door.

I have no traction on the old carpet to push back.

He does it again and this time it’s enough to thrust me far enough for him to open the door.

I flip over and scoot backwards on my hands and feet as he removes his belt. The whooshing as he frees it from the loops fills my ears and sets off my racing heart.

“You’ve gotten too bold for your own good,” he says, wrapping the non-buckle end around his hand, leaving the buckle dangling. Taunting me. “I think you need an attitude adjustment.”

My back hits my bed. I have no place left to go. I have no choice but to take it yet again.

He raises his arm and I curl into a ball using my arms to protect my head.

I take my mind elsewhere to numb the leather’s biting sting. Back to the daydream of my family being like the Jerichos. Where I’m complimented instead of ignored and hugged instead of beaten. 

After he leaves, I let the tears subside before unfurling myself. I don’t assess the damage because I don’t want to see the price I just paid. The pain of it shouts with every move I make.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Arissa and I sit in front of Rose and Andrew on the gym’s wooden bleachers for the first basketball game. Jason doesn’t start, but the coach puts him in later to give the starting point guard a breather. We cheer on our team as they run back and forth between the baskets. At the end, we wave to Jason before he files into the locker room with the rest of the team.

We rush home for Arissa’s birthday party that she insisted on having after the game. As Andrew unlocks the front door, a minivan pulls into the driveway and a gaggle of girls pile out, charging at Arissa.

I remain quiet as she gabs with her friends and opens presents in the TV room. I may be comfortable with my two friends, but socializing with people I don’t know is difficult. Part of me would rather have another fractured elbow than endure the awkwardness. At least physical agony is a known factor for me. I know what to expect.

I leave the chatterboxes for the kitchen with my empty cup. Andrew and Rose are playing cards with the mother who drove the minivan.

“Everything okay in there?” Rose asks.

“Yeah. I just came for more ice tea.”

I take my time filling my cup, picturing what life would’ve been like had my parents permitted me to make friends when I was younger. Going to birthday parties. Sleepovers with a room full of girls. Shopping at the mall. Going to movies.

“Sweetie, what’s wrong?” she asks, pulling me out of my daydream.

“What?”

“You’re spaced out and taking forever to get more tea.”

I guess I’ve spent enough time here the last few months for them to know me.

“I’m not used to parties. And I don’t know Arissa’s other friends.”

“There was a time you didn’t know Arissa either,“ she reminds me.

“That was all her. She’s more social than I am.”

“It wouldn’t hurt to go in there and talk to them,” Andrew suggests.

“Sara!” Arissa calls out, shaking a long flat box when I return to the TV room. “We’re playing Twister! Get my mom to spin for us!”

We spend the next half hour giggling, bending, twisting, reaching, and howling.

My discomfort is gone.

It’s like Arissa gave me a present on her own birthday.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Jason steals a cucumber stick from Arissa as he plops his lunch tray on the table next to her.

She glares at him. “You’re welcome,” she says dryly.

“You can have one of my fries.” He pushes the tray towards her. The fries are soggy and limp, and his burger looks like it was pressed with an iron.

“No, thanks.”

He fishes out a red and green wrapped package from his backpack and slides it to me. “Merry Christmas, Parker.”

Crap. I didn’t get him anything.

“I don’t get a present?’ Arissa pouts.

“I offered you a fry.”

“After you took my food!”

He pecks her cheek and her eyes bug out. “Happy now, Jericho?”

She shoves his shoulder and smiles.

“What are you waiting for?” he asks me.

I push the present back to him. “I can’t accept it.”

He pushes it back. “Yes, you can. From one friend to another.”

But I know it’s more than that. He likes me and I like him. It will never be just a present between friends. I exhale and catch his gaze. His eyes are soft, telling me there is no expectation from him.

I rip the paper open and a beautiful leather bound copy of
The Wizard Of Oz
stares at me. I trace the title with a fingertip.

I’ve never had anything so nice. I automatically wonder what my family would do to it if they saw it. Shred it. Set it on fire. Throw it under running water. Because unlike them, I can’t have nice things.

I think there is a set of unspoken rules:

1. Sara cannot have any love or affection.

2. Sara cannot have anything new, pretty, or of value.

3. Sara must remain miserable.

“Thank you,” I say softly, meeting his gaze.

“You’re welcome.” He smiles bright and bites into a soggy fry.

“I don’t have anything for you.”

“The look on your face is enough for me.” His eyes flicker between me and Arissa. “Any plans for the break?”

I shake my head. How do I explain that I’m wrapping all my sister’s Christmas gifts and whatever else my parents want me to do? We never visit family and they never visit us. I don’t even know if we have any family.

Sometimes it was easier not having friends. No chasm separating my life from theirs to keep me telling lie after lie.

“Liar,” Arissa says with her eyes narrowed at me.

“Wha—”

She breaks into a giant grin. “Gotcha!” she laughs. “We’re having a sleepover New Year’s Eve,” she tells Jason when the laughter subsides.

“What about you?” I ask him.

“We’re going to see my dad’s parents in Phoenix.”

“Ooh. Spending time with the Zonies,” Arissa jokes.

“It’s okay,” he says, dismissing her use of the name. “We hardly see them. My parents wanted to do it since other family will be visiting.”

Jason hugs us at the end of lunch. “See you in two weeks, Parker,” he whispers, his warm chest pressed against me. He smells of woods. And man. And comfort.

We clean up our trash after he leaves and I pick up the book, studying the cover. Sara can’t have anything new, pretty, or of value.

“Riss,” I say, looking at her.

“Yeah.” She meets my gaze with her unsuspecting sapphire eyes.

“Can I keep this,” I hold up the book, “at your house?”

“Of course. But don’t you want it with the rest of your books?”

My meager collection of mostly library toss-offs and the first book Jason gave me.

“My parents will freak if they see it and find out Jason gave it me.”

“I didn’t think about that.” She takes the book from me and slips it in her backpack. “You okay?”

“It’s hard, Riss.”

And unfair. I have more freedom than I did before, thanks to Arissa. But where they were forced to loosen up on one rule, they tightened up on the others. The spoken and unspoken.

Father shoves me on my bedroom floor. “What did he give you? I’m not going to ask again.”

“Nothing,” I insist. I push my backpack towards him. “Search it if you want. Search my room. Take me to school and search my locker. He gave me nothing.”

“That’s not what we were told.”

“You were told wrong,” I lie boldly. “He gave Arissa a present. Not me.”

He glares at me with his brows knitted, as if he’s trying to puzzle it out for himself.

“You’re lying.” He grabs the backpack and upends it, my books and notebook falling out and thudding against each other on the floor. He checks the pockets, emptying the contents haphazardly. Not finding what he expects, he tosses my room. Tearing the bed apart, dumping out drawers, clearing the closet.

Through it all, I sit with my arms wrapped around my legs in the middle of the room, thankful my beautiful book is safe across the street. He can tear the house apart. He’ll never find it.

Having run out of places to search, he mutters, “Clean up this mess.” 

The thrill of triumph runs through me, but I keep it contained. It does no good to finally win, then lose it all in the one second it would take to get caught. I wait for the door to close behind him before allowing the smile to grow across my face.

Parents and Victoria - one billion.

Sara - one.