The Unloved (9 page)

“Just put in the damn game, Nick.” I smiled.

I dunked my cookie again and took another Pepsi-soaked bite. Hanging out with Nick might not have been such a bad idea.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

NICK

I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath, then walked through the door to the Ingles three streets away from my house. It was the only place hiring besides a used bookstore and the ice cream shop Jules worked at, and I couldn’t picture myself working at either of those places. So Ingles it was.

I stepped on the sensor in front of the automatic door and felt the cold air flow out and across my face. Didn’t these people know that summer was over now? It was the end of September for crying out loud. They could turn off the air conditioner now. Or at least turn it down.

The application I’d picked up on the way home from school yesterday shook in my hand as I started toward the Customer Service area. I’d never had a job before; hell, I’d never even applied for a job before. This had been the first application I’d ever filled out. But it was time I got one. I felt like less of a man every time Jules said that she couldn’t hang out or had to get up early because she had to work.

Hopefully that feeling was about to go away, for good.

I held the application with both hands in front of my chest and drummed my fingers against the paper while I waited for the lady behind the counter to acknowledge me as she wrote something down.

“Can I help you?” she asked in a monotone voice, glancing over the edge of her glasses at me with a glare.

I swallowed hard. “I’d like to turn in this application I got yesterday.”

She took it from my shaking fingers and I noticed her name tag said Betty. “What position are you looking for?”

“I heard you had a stocking position available.”

“Are you still in school?”

“Yes, ma’am,” I answered.

“Can you lift crates?” she asked and then glanced at my arms.

“I sure can.”

“When can you start?”

My heart soared. “Right now, if you need me.”

“How about tomorrow at four?” She wrote something on my paper.

“I’ll be here,” I said, smiling, my heart pounding in my throat.

“You’ll be given a white Ingles shirt upon arrival tomorrow. Wear some khaki pants and tennis shoes.”

“Okay, that’s fine. Thank you.” I beamed. “I’ll come dressed and ready at four.”

And that was it. I was dismissed with a wave of Betty’s hand. I walked back out the automatic door with an ear-to-ear grin on my face and nervous butterflies fluttering around in my stomach.

I thought about what Jules would say to me once she found out I’d gotten a job on my way home. I thought about how much money I would make and how I’d save every red cent for a car. My smile never wavered from my face until I started down our street and my house came into view. Dad’s beat up car sat in the driveway right beside mom’s. My feet faltered and my heart dropped to my stomach like a rock.

I wondered what the hell he was doing back and began walking again. I was nearly at our house when I heard yelling coming from inside. So. Much. Yelling. I bolted up the three front steps and through the front door so quickly I didn’t have time to think about what I was going to do once inside or what I would find.

Mom lay sprawled out on the living room floor, her palms pushing her off the ground, the right side of her face swollen, her nose trickling blood. Dad hovered over her, continuing to yell. To insult her. To demean her. He’d obviously hit her more than once, one of which must have been just seconds before I’d walked through the door. She was now attempting to scramble back to her feet. I saw dad’s hand reach out for her and I lost it.

I charged after him without thinking and knocked him to the ground. Losing my footing too, I tumbled to the floor with him and struggled to gain the upper hand. Dad was a big man and alcohol made him think he was superman. It didn’t take much for him to end up on top of me, pounding my face with a closed fist.

“Stop it, Robert! Stop!” mom screamed, her words echoing through my skull like thunder.

I saw her delicate hands gripping his wide bicep as she attempted to pull him off me. Dad stopped long enough to backhand her and I saw her fall backward and into the sofa. At that moment, using the distraction of my mother to my advantage, I pummeled dad in the jaw as hard as I could. He fell sideways on me and I didn’t hesitate to slip out from beneath him. His hand flew out and gripped my ankle, jerking me back down to the floor so hard all the breath left my lungs.

“You son of a bitch!” dad shouted as his fist met with the side of my head, again.

His fist drew back to hit me once more and I winced and closed my eyes, using my arms to block his blow…but it never came. Instead he slumped forward, his forehead colliding with mine.

“Are you okay, Nick?” mom asked as she tugged him off me.

“What happened?” I wondered, out of breath.

Mom held up a cast iron skillet and smiled, cracking open her busted lip even more.

We spent the rest of my Saturday afternoon at the police station, pressing charges against my dad. And for the first time in my mother’s life she actually filed for a restraining order against him. I don’t think I’ve ever been more proud of her before.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

JULIE

I walked home from work around six. It was nice out, not too chilly and not too warm. The sky had turned a meek gray, promising rain at any moment, and I hoped it waited until I at least reached my driveway.

I crammed my hands into the back pockets of my jeans and allowed my mind to wander. Things between Nick and I had been good. Real good. I hadn’t realized how badly I’d missed him until recently. I’d been able to keep our friendship light, but every time he got that look in his eyes lately—the look of desire, the yearn to step over the invisible line I’d drawn in the sand between us and kiss me—I found it was becoming harder for me to remain still. To remain on the friendship side. To not allow him to press his perfect lips to mine. I wondered how much longer it would be before I was straddling that line, nearly falling on the other side and into his arms.

An old, black Chevy Camaro slowed beside me, keeping up with my sloth-like pace. The tinted window on the passenger side rolled down, revealing the driver, but I already knew who it was without having to look. Vincent.

“Hop in. I’ll give you a ride.” He smiled.

I shook my head. “No, thanks. It’s really not that much farther.”

“You think I don’t know that,” he said, his eyes darting between me and the road. “I’m trying to be nice here. Let me.”

I’d only seen him a handful of times since the night at Drew’s party when I’d kneed him in the balls. Each time he’d been nice to me, but each time he’d also just gotten done with my mother and given her a new refill on her
prescription
of Xanax or Klonopins…whatever he had on hand.

“I’m fine,” I said and then felt the slight drizzle I’d been hoping would hold off for a while touch my face and begin to dampen my hair.

“Come on, Julie, just get in,” he pressed. “You’ll catch pneumonia or something out here.”

“It’ll be all right; a little rain never hurt anyone.” I did not want to ride with him. What didn’t he get about that?

As if rebelling against my words, the sky opened up and began pouring down on me all at once. I stopped and so did Vincent’s car.

“Get in!” I heard him laugh, and through the sheet of rain pounding down on me, I noticed he’d already leaned across the car and slung the passenger door open.

“Fine.” I rolled my eyes and hopped in.

“Damn, you’re soaked. Are you cold?” he asked and reached to turn the heat on.

“Not really.” I shifted to glance out the window and wiped the rain from my face.

“Okay.” He grinned. “You wanna drive to Bell Park and smoke a joint with me?”

“No, I just want to go home.” It wasn’t true. I never wanted to go home, but I didn’t want to hang out with Vincent either. Or smoke a joint with him.

“Fine, suit yourself,” he said, sounding annoyed like I’d given him unnecessary attitude or something.

We pulled into my driveway and I reached for the handle to get out, but Vincent leaned over me and locked the door. I glanced at him, thinking I was about to get a lecture regarding my knee to his groin finally.

“I gave you a ride…don’t I get anything in return for that?” he asked, his face inches from mine.

I should have known he couldn’t just be nice. He was scum. What the hell did I ever see in him? “I thought you said you were trying to be nice; I didn’t know I would be indebted to you.”

“You never asked.” His lips crushed against mine, hard and fast.

I pushed on his chest, digging my palms into him as hard as I could to try and force him off me, but he didn’t budge. He had more strength than his physical appearance gave him credit for.

“Come on, Julie. I’ve seen how you’ve stared at me those times I’ve been leaving from your house. You want me again, admit it.” He breathed heavily.

Hello? Had he not noticed my knee to his balls the last time he touched me unwanted?

“
Want you?
That’s not want, that’s
disgust!
” I shouted. “Obviously you’ve confused the two.”

I turned my head and reached for the lock, but Vincent stopped my arm with his firm grip and pulled at my sweater, sliding his hand up the front. Panic made my heart pound in my chest. I struggled and brought my knee up to push against him. Jerking one arm free, I was finally able to pull the lock up, but that was as far as I got before Vincent grabbed it again and pinned it to my side, his lips sloppily grazing my neck. My door opened as I continued to struggle free and arms reached in to tear me out. It was Cole, his face constricted into a mask of pure rage.

“What the fuck are you doing to my sister?” he demanded.

“Nothing we haven’t done before.” Vincent smiled.

“Yeah well, didn’t look like she was enjoying it this time, jerk-off.”

“Nah, she was. I think I’m finally figuring out that she likes it rough,” Vincent muttered. A menacing tone leaked into his voice that creeped me out completely. Reaching across the seat I’d been trapped in, he slammed his car door shut.

My legs trembled beneath me as Vincent darted out of the driveway and squealed tires before barreling down the street. The smell of burnt rubber clung to the air surrounding me, and I thought I might vomit from the adrenaline and fast-paced rate of my heart. Cole picked up his skateboard and turned to face me.

“You all right?” he asked, concern flashing in his eyes.

I nodded. “Yeah, thanks.”

A tiny flicker of relief flashed in the deep blues of his eyes just before anger churned in, taking over its place quickly. “God, what the hell were you thinking? I swear you and mom share that fucking loser like a damn hairbrush.” He shook his head and started toward the house.

“What?! You saw what was happening! You saw what he was doing!” I shouted after him, my voice shaking.

I wrapped my arms around myself. How could Cole think that about me? He was just as bad as mom. Just like him, she always thought the things that happened to me were my fault no matter what, too.

“He’s your ex and now he’s sleeping with mom! He’s a jackass loser! You should have known better than to get in the car with him!” Cole spat.

“It’s pouring, Cole. Haven’t you noticed? He saw me walking home from work in the rain, offered me a ride, and I took it! How was I supposed to know
that
would happen?”

“I don’t know, intuition maybe, or some fucking common sense?” He wiped rain droplets from his forehead and started back toward the house, but a little white truck pulled into the driveway before he reached the front door and he darted past me to it like a life raft without a second glance my way.

I realized then Cole must have thought Vincent’s car pulling up was his ride. Luck had been on my side after all. I thought of what might have happened if Cole had already left and tears swelled in my eyes and spilled over.

I jogged across the street through the rain, headed toward the white shed. I was sure mom would be getting up soon and I didn’t want to see her. I wanted to be alone. I pushed the dented green door open, wondering for the first time if its owner had known they’d put the hinges on backward, and stopped when I saw Nick sitting on the floor with his back pressed against the wall. Our eyes locked and I stood there for a second, taking in the fresh bruises on his face.

“Bad day, too?” he asked in a low voice that made the tears flow faster from my eyes.

I nodded and stepped inside.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

NICK

Jules just stared at me, her eyes a florescent green, her hair dripping from the rain. Tears streamed down her cheeks and a little piece of my heart died. I’d always hated to see her cry and now was no exception. Her lips curved up slightly and she stepped inside, closing the door to the shed behind her.