Playing Patience

Four

Patience



“What an a*shole!” Megan said once I got back in the car. “He had no right to talk to you like that. All you were doing was saying thank you. Geez, how hard would it have been to say you’re welcome and politely walk away? Chet said he was a dick to girls, but damn.”

She was right, of course. It took everything I had in me to get out of the car and spit the words “thank you” out. I’m already a naturally shy person, but the fact that he’d seen me in the worst state I’d ever been in made me even more uncomfortable. No matter how shaky my body was or how nervous I was, I knew thanking him was the right thing to do. He had saved my life, after all.

Now, after he so rudely snubbed me and walked away, I was thinking I should have just let sleeping dogs lie.

“What did Chet say his name was again?”

“Zeke Mitchell,” she said as she pulled off the bumpy rock road to the main highway. “Even his name screams a*shole. The girls love him, though. What is it about girls and cocky a*sholes? I’ll never understand it.”

“Says the girl who chases every cocky cock in a ten-mile radius.” I laughed.

“Hey, now! A girl has needs. I’m sure one day I’ll find a nice boy I can take home to meet my mom, but until then, I’ll enjoy getting roughed up by the bad ones.” She jokingly purred then growled.

“I’m convinced there’s something wrong with you. Anyway, I did what I came here to do. I would’ve died had he not taken me to the hospital. I thanked him and now I can forget him.”

“Yeah, that would probably be best. Listen, Pay, I’m really sorry about last night. I swear I thought you left. I blew your phone up and went searching for you the minute I realized we got separated.” She looked over at me and frowned as she made a right turn.

She’d rushed over to my house the minute I was released from the hospital and then she spent the next hour crying on my lap and apologizing. It’s not like she drugged me. It happened and it would never happen again. You live, you learn, and you move past it. I’d been through worse and I’d go through worse again.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, and up until my arms went numb I was having a good time.” I tried to make her feel better. “But I don’t know if that’s my kind of place.”

“I understand. I know it’s not really your scene. I’ll go alone.” She jerked her car into my driveway and slammed on the brakes.

I grabbed the dash to keep my head from being smashed into it at the sudden stop.

“Why in the world would you go back there?” I asked, appalled.

“Well, I didn’t say anything because of all the craziness going on, but Chet asked me to come watch him play next weekend. Oh my God, he’s so freaking hot. He texted me this morning and called me beautiful. I think I’m in love.” She sighed.

“You’re always in love.” I shook my head. “Promise me you won’t go alone. If it comes down to that, I’ll go back with you and stuff a bottle of water in my purse for safe drinking. I don’t think I want to party as hard as I did last time.” I joked.

“I’m totally not laughing at that. You could’ve died or, had I grabbed your cup instead of mine, I could’ve died. We have to be more careful from now on.”

“Agreed.” I smiled back at her.

I looked up at the big, white house that was my home. My eyes met my dad’s as he peered down at me from his office window. I’d have to face him at some point, but I’d do just about anything to get out of it.

“You and Chet, huh? What do you think will happen with that?” I asked.

“Well, I know what I hope will happen and it involves a lot of heavy breathing, high-pitched moans, and bad words.” She smirked. “He looks like a hair puller. God, I’d let him spank me with his drumsticks.” Big laughter spilled from her lips when my face heated up.

“Um, I’m pretty sure that would constitute abuse.” I snorted. “Anyway, that’s gross. I wouldn’t touch his drumsticks, much less any other kind of stick. At least wait a while before you sleep with him.” I rolled my eyes and pretended to gag.

“Oh, whatever, I don’t sleep with every guy that shows me some attention. Plus, I really like this one, but if it makes you feel better, I promise to make him wait.” She playfully nudged my arm with a painted finger.

“Good. Okay, chick, I’ll see you in the morning. Try and be here at a decent time. If I’m late one more time, Ms. Marshall’s going to give me detention, and if I get detention I’ll miss practice.”

“I’ll try, but I make no promises. This master piece takes time.” She motioned at her face and tilted her head back and forth like she was posing for a camera.

“Okay, oh gorgeous one. Just be here.” I pushed my door open.

“With bells on,” she said with a big cheesy smile.

I climbed out and then watched as her car jerked down the road. Grinding gears sounded until I could no longer see her taillights.

My dad was standing in the marble foyer when I pushed through the front door. His angry eyes devoured me as I took off my coat and hung it in the closet. I felt my stomach turn at the attention.

“Was that your friend Megan?” he asked, as he leaned a hip against the little table by the front door.

“Yes, we were just hanging out.” I put my head down, tucked my hair behind my ears, and started to creep around him.

I tensed when I felt him grab my arm in passing. He leaned in toward me; his lips grazed my cheek as he whispered in my ear.

“That girl’s bad news. I’m not sure I’m okay with you going out partying God knows where with her. You’re meeting the wrong kind of people, Patience, and if I find out you’ve been doing anything bad with anyone I’m going to be very angry.” I didn’t miss his meaning. “That boy that helped you last night, I’m assuming that was the first time you met him?”

He was acting like a jealous boyfriend instead of a pissed-off father. It was disgusting. My entire life was a psychology book in the making. Tech students would take tests based on the appalling details of my dysfunctional family one day.

“Last night was the first time I’d ever seen him, and even then I wasn’t properly introduced. You know, since I was practically dying and everything.” My voice was calm and cool, but my words were sarcastic.

“Don’t be a smartass, Patience. Stay away from him. Don’t let me find out you were on that side of town again, do you understand?” His fingers started to dig into my arm and I hissed as his pinky nail cut skin.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Yes, what?” He reached up and brushed my hair to the side.

“Yes, sir,” I repeated respectfully as I pulled my arm away from his death grip.

“There you are! Where have you been, Pay?” My sister Sydney came bursting into the space.

Dad stepped away from me, and the room instantly felt lighter after seeing her smile. While I was the older, gloomy daughter of depression, Syd was the sunlight in our home. She was twelve and just now coming into herself. I’m pretty sure she wasn’t planned since there was such a large age gap between her and me, but instead of being annoyed by my baby sister, like I’m sure most girls my age were, I adored being around her. She made me feel needed and technically she did need me.

I was the one that shielded her from him. I used my body as a distraction so hers could remain untouched, and I’d continue to do that until she was safe and sound and out on her own. She’d never know about what went on behind my door some nights and I’d sure as hell never tell her, but as long as it was my room he visited once a week and not hers, I’d die a happy girl someday. As long as I could protect Sydney, I would be at peace with my lot in life.

“Hey, you.” I reached out and tugged playfully at her strawberry-blond hair. “When did you get home?” I asked.

She’d been away for some school trip for the last week, which was a lot like a mini break for me since I only had to protect myself and not her for the week. I actually got a good night’s sleep at one point. I hadn’t slept well since Sydney and I had gotten our own rooms when I was twelve. I couldn’t watch out for her properly when she was in the room next to me, which resulted in a lot of listening out for noises. I’d become the lightest sleeper alive once my parents moved me into my own room. I hated it, but at least there wasn’t a chance of Syd waking up and seeing me being manhandled.

“I’ve been home for an hour. Mom looks good today.” She smiled. I instantly felt bad for not visiting my mom before rushing off to the other side of town.

“Does she? I guess I should go up and say hi then, huh? Come with me.” I tugged on her arm and dragged her upstairs to our parents’ room.

If the space outside their bedroom door smelled like a hospital, then the bedroom itself smelled like the morgue. As much as I loved visiting my mother and seeing her lying in bed, waiting with a smile, I despised visiting at the same time. The room was swarming with death and was a constant reminder that today could be the last day I’d get to see my mother’s smile or hear her soft voice.

I was seven when she was first diagnosed with breast cancer. Sydney was only two. Since her diagnoses, she’d been in and out of the hospital. One year she was in remission and things would look brighter, and then she’d go in for one of her six-month checkups and the walls would come tumbling in again once the doctor would let her know her cancer had returned.

I’d seen her in all stages of the disease. I’d held her hair back as she puked after chemo. I’d held her in my arms as she cried for the loss of her breasts after a double mastectomy, and when that wasn’t enough, I spoon fed her chicken broth when she was too weak to even lift her arms. That’s the stage she was in now, the final stages. My dad was paying a nurse to care for her now since there wasn’t much else the doctors could do for her. She’d gotten to the point where she flat-out refused the chemo.

“Three days of being happy and alive are better than five days of being sick and half dead,” she’d say when Dad would beg her to go in for treatments.

It was her decision and after seeing her so sick she couldn’t move, I understood that decision. Even though selfish parts of me wanted to scream for her to get her ass to the doctor and accept any treatment they offered, the parts of me that understood sickness and pain prayed nightly for her to find peace.

In the future, when my depression gets the best of me, I’ll tell my story of the years I spent being molested by one of the very people who was supposed to protect me. I’ll tell a high-priced therapist all my dirty secrets and I’ll beg for the drugs that will take my memories away. When that day comes, I’ll be asked why I never told anyone. The doctor will ask me why I didn’t ask for help or run to my mother.

The answer will always been the same. I wanted my mom to live a happy life in her final days. She was dying; everyone in our home knew that, including the live-in nurse that now took care of her. Slowly but surely, she was dying. What kind of person would I be to tell her something so devastating so close to her death? It would take a heartless person to do that.

So instead, I kept it locked in, knowing one day, once Mom is gone and Sydney is safely sent away to college, I’ll be able to run away and leave it all behind.

“Hey, Mom,” I whispered into the dark room where she lived. “Feel like some company?”

A thin ray of light cut across the musty room and landed on my mom’s sunken cheeks. I watched as a tiny smile sucked the energy from her eyes.

“Of course I am. Get your butts in here,” she rasped.

Syd and I climbed up in bed with her and snuggled up close. I wrapped my fingers around hers. I didn’t miss how thin her skin felt. It was as if the thin barrier that kept her together was slowly dissolving.

I looked over at Syd and she attempted to smile at me. It was a sad smile, one that was for show only. We both knew it could be any time now and moments like this were priceless.

“So, let’s talk girl talk,” Mom said. Her words were breathless and I appreciated her effort.

She began to softly pet my hand with hers and I closed my eyes and took it in.

Syd and I did most of the talking. At one point we even earned a good laugh from her when Syd proceeded to tell her about some run-in at school with a girl and a fake spider. We stayed and talked until it was clear Mom was exhausted.

That night Sydney slept in my room. When Dad came to my door, he simply said goodnight to us and went back to his room.

I skipped the gym and extracurricular activities that week since our maid, Lynn, was off for the week. I felt fine staying out late with her around since she stayed up so late and her room was next to Syd’s. With her being off on vacation, I couldn’t take any chances of him going to Syd’s room while I wasn’t there. Needless to say, I spent more time at home than I wanted to, but it was worth it if it meant protecting my little sister.

Soon it was Friday, and Megan was planning her outfit for our night out at The Pit. I hated that she was so damn hardheaded about going to that stupid place. Her going meant I had to go back. There was no way I could let her go alone. Syd was spending the weekend with a friend so I could afford to get out of the house. After being stuck there after school all week, I needed it. Like I said before, I’d be more careful. I knew what I was getting into this time.

“What do you think of this?” Megan said as she held up a scrap of hot-pink lace.

“What the hell is it?” I asked.

“It’s a halter-top. It’s going to look freaking hot on me.” She held it up to her chest and it looked like it wouldn’t even cover one boob, much less two.

“Are you sure it’s not too small?”

“Uh, that’s kind of the point. Here, you try this one on.” She handed me another piece of tiny material, except this one was black.

I help it up to my crotch since it looked like a tiny pair of panties and that earned a laugh from Megan.

“Pay, it’s a top. Here, this is how you put it on.”

She then began to dress me. She didn’t stop at the top. Soon, I was wearing a tight pair of skinny jeans that barely covered my ass and black boots that went up my calves. Usually, I wouldn’t be caught dead in anything of the sort, but since I knew I’d stand out less this way, I was all for it. I even allowed her to sit me down and put some makeup on my face and curl my hair.

When I looked in the mirror again I was looking at a different girl. It wasn’t me; it was a rocker chick from The Pit, minus the tats and piercings. There was black liner around my blue eyes that made them pop, big hoop earrings in my ears, and my hair hung around my cheeks in a mass of platinum curls.

“Oh my God, Megan. That’s… I don’t know. I look like a different person.” I was shocked.

“No, you don’t. You look hot. Not that you aren’t always hot, but I just accentuated your hotness.”

“Yeah, um… not so much, but thanks. At least now I won’t stick out so much. Promise you won’t run off with Chet and leave me alone at this place.”

“Oh, please! Last time taught me a lesson. I’ll be hooked to your side like your sexy conjoined twin.” She picked through the makeup on her dresser, throwing random things into her bag.

Gerald, the doorman, said nothing this time as we slipped past him. The Pit, once again, was full of people bouncing off the concrete walls, all dressed in black. Except this time I fit right in. While I was still uncomfortable, it wasn’t nearly as bad as the first time. I was completely prepared and I was determined not to lose Megan in the crowd this time.

The band was already playing as we made our way to the bar. We ordered something in a bottle and asked the bartender to give it to us unopened. That got us a stink eye, but we didn’t care. This time we were determined to walk out, preferably not drugged and on the verge of death. We hooked pinkies as we made our way close to the stage. Chet winked at Megan once we were close to the front of the group.

I took a quick peek at Zeke and he looked right over me as he scanned the crowd through his dark bangs. I felt a slight twinge when he didn’t even notice me, but then I realized I didn’t look exactly like the girl he found half dead on the disgusting bathroom floor. When he turned his head away, I took advantage of the time and checked out his tattoos. The one that stuck out the most was the nautical star on the top of his hand that melted onto the side of his wrist. I’m not sure what it was about the tattoo that was so appealing, but that, combined with the flexing of his muscles as he played, was very attractive.

I was beginning to understand Megan’s fascination with bad boys, although I’d never admit that to her. Zeke had been a total dick to me both times we spoke, but he wasn’t handsy and he didn’t make any sexual advances toward me, and in some way I appreciated that about him.

Then again, looking around at all the tattooed, half-naked women in the room, I obviously wasn’t his type and just a small part of me wanted to be like the girls around me. I may look the part tonight, but this wasn’t me at all and no amount of tiny clothes or makeup could make me like them.

Zeke strummed the chords for his solo and once again I was caught with how untouchable he was for me. He closed his eyes as he played and the light glinted off the piercing on his eyebrow. I found myself jealous of his freedom to be himself. Just like the first time I saw him, he was dripping with moody sexiness. The fact that I could describe him as sexy was a huge step for me, but it was the truth and all the girls pushing toward the stage to get into his line of vision knew it just as much as I did. Zeke Mitchell was sexy. He was a total a*shole, but I guess it worked for him.

After a few unopened bottles of beer, and entirely too many stink eyes from the bitchy bartender, I was starting to feel myself relax. The alcohol had made its way through my system and down into my limbs. I was beginning to enjoy myself. I even caught myself swaying to the music every now and again.

An hour after that, I was dancing with Megan and a group of people I didn’t know. I was jumping up and down, screaming lyrics I’d just learned, and laughing like I hadn’t laughed since I was seven. Like, real laughter, not the fake stuff that I produced around people at school. It was an amazing feeling. I could totally see myself becoming an alcoholic real quick if it meant feeling this way all the time.

And then suddenly the fun was over. The crowd broke and darted in different directions as The Pit filled with police officers. Megan grabbed my hand and pulled me in her direction, but the beer had taken its toll and my reflexes weren’t working.

“Come on, Patience! Pick up your feet!” she screamed over the loudness.

The music had stopped and all I could hear were the sounds of the police yelling for everyone to freeze. The lights were flickering and I saw a few people get trampled. Then Megan’s hand was ripped from mine and I was thrown back. I lost my balance and fell hard onto the sticky concrete floor. I tried to get up, but some girl stepped on me and I fell back onto my stomach. Then I felt a strong grip on my arms as someone pulled me into the standing position. For a brief moment, I felt relief, but then my arms were pulled behind my back and I was handcuffed.