My Heart be Damned (17 page)

I narrowed my eyes. Had she picked that saying up from my dad, or had he picked it up from her? Ignoring that she even existed, I stared into the bathroom and at the water draining from the bath. That bitch. Our water heater only allowed for one bath per night and two showers.

“Oh... Yeah, I had a bath,” she said, noticing my expression. “Your dad said that I could. And this was the only clean towel in there...”

“Dad!” I yelled.

He thundered up the stairs, slightly out of breath. “What is it,
Amerie
?” He spotted Cindy at the bathroom door, and his eyes widened. “Oh.”

“I wanted a bath,” I hissed.

“You’ll just have to have a shower,” Dad said, shooting me a pleading look, which I ignored.

“And what will I dry off with, Dad?”

He finally caught on. “I’ll have to stick it in the wash for you.”

“You don’t even know how to use a washing machine!” I exclaimed, throwing my hands up. “I don’t expect to come home, and not even be able to have a bath because she has used all the hot water and my damn towel.” I stormed into my room, slamming the door shut behind me. “And you’re buying me a new towel!”

I flopped down on my hard bed, straining my ears to pick up their conversation.

“That went better than I thought,” Dad admitted.

“It did?” Bitch Face, as I decided to call her, sounded shocked.

“She didn’t throw anything. Or punch a hole through the wall.”

Bitch Face giggled. “I’m sure they’ll get used to me. Come here and give me some
lovin
’, Mr. Carter.”

Ew
,
ew
,
ew
! I grabbed my pillow and wrapped it around my head. This was not supposed to happen. My dad was not supposed to be serious about anyone but my mother. When I heard their footsteps move into my dad’s bedroom, I grabbed my phone out of my bag and
dialled
Mercy’s number.

“
Amerie
, it’s gone eleven.”

“You call me at all hours, Mercy. Let’s remember this.”

“Oh, yeah. So I do. What’s up?”

I squeezed my eyes shut, wanting to delete the image of Bitch Face in my towel forever. The worst thing was that she was somewhat pretty. Flawless skin, not a bad figure, from what I saw, and stupid, shiny teeth.

“Remember that girlfriend I told you my Dad had? Well, I just met her,” I explained.

“Oh my God! Is she old? Is she ugly? Is she fat? Does she smell like dog fart?”

I grinned despite my mood. This was why I called Mercy.

“She’s gross,” I lied. “And she used all the hot water up, so I couldn’t have my damn bath. But that’s not the worst of it.”

“How can it get any worse?” Mercy asked. “Unless you saw her naked.”

“Worse than that. We’re moving in with her.” I braced myself for Mercy’s reaction.

After a moment, while I presumed the shock was setting in, Mercy roared with laughter.

“You’re gonna have a step-mum!” She laughed again. “It’s gonna be like the film with Julia Roberts. I can see it now. At first, you’ll hate her, which you already do, and then she’ll win you over by taking you on set while she works like in the movie! Am I right? I am, aren’t I?”

“You’re so completely wrong I don’t know where to start.”

“We’ll see!” she sang. “Okay, but on a serious note, are you okay? It’s gotta be hard seeing a new woman in your dad’s life, even if you did
kinda
know about her.”

“It’s worse than hard. It’s Hell.”

“You shouldn’t joke about Hell if what you say you do is true.”

“It is true... and you’re right. I shouldn’t joke about it. I just...he shouldn’t be with her.”

“So who should he be with?”

“My mum,” I answered sullenly.

“
Amerie
...”

“Okay, I know it can’t ever happen, but I can’t stand to see this. It feels wrong. Like everything has just changed and I’m the only one who’s remained the same.”

“The same? You just told me that you’re like this superhero,” Mercy said playfully. “That’s a pretty big change.”

“Oh yeah. Fair point.”

“But look,
Amerie
, your dad deserves to be happy, right? Maybe this new woman is what he needs. You have me, Chuck, and even Sam. Who does he have? He can’t be alone forever, hon. So, just give them a chance. You might even like her. No one’s saying she’s gonna be the new Mummy Carter. She’s just...helping your dad out of a bad patch.”

I shut my eyes, letting Mercy’s words play over in my head. She was right, but that didn’t stop the betrayal from bruising my heart. “I’ll try to give her a chance.”

“Atta girl,” she said. “Hey, don’t you have a history essay to write?”

I slapped my forehead. “Ah damn! Okay, better go. I’ll ring you back if I have any other interactions with the step-monster.”

“Your life is like a TV sitcom. It’s highly amusing and then emotional two scenes later.”

“Goodbye, Mercy.”

“Night!”

I hung up and then climbed off my bed to take up my place at my desk. My computer was an old pensioner in comparison to the sleek iMac I’d had before. I pressed the power button and waited for it to load up, and then I bent down to grab my history textbook. Why did I have a feeling I’d be doing this essay for most of the night? At least it would keep me from having any graveyard compulsions. Always a plus.

Chapter Sixteen

Visiting Hours

The next morning, I decided to be a tiny bit late for school and go visit Sam in the hospital. It was another long bus journey, filled with people with questionable sanitary practices. In particular, the woman who sat next to me smelled like wet dog and pee.

When I got to the hospital, Sam was propped up in bed, a bag of grapes on his lap, shoved handfuls into his mouth as he watched his little TV. I smiled softly. He looked perfectly innocent and child-like wrapped up in his white bed sheets.

“You enjoying yourself there?” I asked, flopping down on the plastic armchair beside him.

His eyes widened as he turned to stare at me. “
Amerie
? What’re you doing here?” He switched off the TV and then shuffled in the bed to face me.

“I came to see you, of course,” I answered, shrugging out of my coat.

“Thanks. Means a lot.” He paused, looking down at his grapes. “I was worried about you. Mercy told me that you were fine but still. Mercy and Chuck said you went after the muggers after I hit my head.”

Muggers? I went with it. “Yeah, but they got away. Ah, don’t look at me like that!”

He groaned at me. “That was really reckless,
Amerie
. You
coulda
got yourself hurt.”

“I can look after myself. Promise.”

“Yeah I thought so too.”

I reached forward and grabbed his grape bag, helping myself. “Who got you these?”

I thought I saw him wince. “Sarah White.”

“Oh.”

“I heard everything is cool at school now.”

I went with his change of topic. “Unfortunately. So, when’re they setting you free?”

Sam smiled. “Tomorrow. Tests came back clear. I’m right as rain now.”

“Whatever that means.”

“Hmm.” Sam stared into space as if contemplating the definition. “I guess it means you’re normal?”

“And the definition of normal is?”

“Okay, okay. Yeah, I don’t know, but it’s a saying. I like sayings.”

A nurse stalked past, shooting us a warning glare. I lowered the volume of my voice.

“Can’t wait to see you back at school.”

“Well, I’ll be okay to go out tomorrow. Should we make plans?” He snatched the grapes back, smiling wickedly.

Just as I went to agree, Marshall’s face popped into my mind. What if he wanted us to train tomorrow? What if he had tactics about defeating Seal that we had to go over?

“We’ll see,” I answered. “I might be busy.”

“Busy?”

“Busy. But I’ll try and get away.”

“Who might you be busy with? Mercy and Chuck said that they’re free.”

I patted his hand. “Just a friend...”

“What friend?”

I glanced up at the time on the wall. Yeah, I was gonna be extremely late to school now. I jumped up, grabbed another handful of grapes, and slipped on my coat.

“I’d love to sit and explain, Sam, but I got school. Call me tomorrow or text me when you’re back home. We’ll talk later. Oh, and I’m really, really glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks for visiting,” he said, somewhat sullenly. “I’ll text.”

I waved and strolled out of the ward, feeling a little more relaxed. He was fine – better than fine. Still joking around and eating grapes. My guilt was starting to subside all because Sam was still here to see another day, and I was going to keep it that way.

In school, I was anxious about my evening with Marshall. Would he stick by his word and be waiting in the car park for me? When the last bell rang, I practically ran to my locker to swap over my books, and when I slammed it shut, he was standing behind me.

“What are you doing here?” I growled, grabbing his arm and marching him towards the exit. As we went, every girl we passed shot him appreciative looks. Jealously burned at me.

“I came to get you,” he answered. “Or did you change your mind?”

“No, you’re supposed to wait in the car park. You stand out like a sore thumb.” I gestured to his jeans, Vans, and leather jacket. The rest of us, the ones who didn’t look like supermodels, were in plain school uniform.

Marshall stopped, and I jerked to a halt beside him. “Sorry,” he muttered. “I wanted to make sure everything was okay in here.”

“You seem to keep forgetting that I can look after myself.”

He edged forward, towering over me, and his hand reached up to
cup
the back of my neck. Was he about to kiss me? Here? In front of everyone? His head dipped, and I closed my eyes, waiting.

“You look incredibly sexy in your uniform. Like a naughty Catholic school girl.”

My eyes flew open in surprise. “Stop being creepy,” I said with a sigh. “Come on, before one of my teachers spots you.” He laughed and allowed me to drag him into the car park.

The sporty Honda was parked in one of the teacher bays, garnering appreciative looks from some of the male students loitering around. Marshall turned on the ignition and was reversing out of the space within seconds.

“Are we training again tonight?”

“Yep.”

“Okay, cool.”

He pulled onto the country lane and for a while, neither of us spoke. There seemed to be some kind of electricity floating around between us in the car. I gulped and stared down at Marshall’s hand on the gearstick. I wanted to run my finger along his skin, across his veins. Tearing my eyes away, I stared up at him instead. Such visible perfection.

“So,” he said, breaking the weird energy between us. “What
kinda
films do you like?”

“Films?”

“Yeah, films. Do you like chick flicks? Comedies? Shoot-
em
-ups?”

I didn’t understand his sudden, random conversation pick, but I went with it anyway, launching into a discussion about what films we both liked and disliked. By the time we’d reached the warehouse, we’d discussed films, books, music, hobbies, and funny childhood stories. It wasn’t about letting Marshall  train me anymore; there was a bond neither of us could deny, no matter how much I wanted to both avoid and welcome it.