Author: Teresa Mummert

“You asshole! You didn’t have to make fun of me!”

Abel looked at me. His eyes started on my thighs, glided over my chest, and traveled up to meet my gaze. “You really are naïve, Kettle. I should go.” He motioned to stand, and I grabbed his arm to keep him from getting up.

“Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“Look down at me like Trish does,” I said. “Neither of you knows the first damn thing about me. I didn’t grow up in a fucking bubble, and my life wasn’t sailboats and designer drugs like you two.You’re the ones who are naïve. You like to party every day and fuck a new stranger each night like you’re so badass. You don’t have the first clue.”

“You think you’re badass, Lie?” Abel leaned closer until I smelled the minty toothpaste on his breath. I refused to move away because I knew that was exactly what he expected me to do. “You want to know what it’s like to be on a sailboat with me?” He smirked, but it wasn’t playful, and his voice was low and menacing. “This…” He pulled up his shirt to show me the hot‐white scar over his ribcage. “This is from the last time I was on a boat—me, my mom, my dad. I was the only one who came back home that day; only home was gone for me. My whole world was gone, so yeah, I can teach you about sailboats and drugs and fucking some random stranger just to feel something—anything other than emptiness. I can show you all that, little girl.”

I leaned away from him, stunned into silence by his confession and mortified that I’d brought up such a painful memory for him.

“I‐I’m so sorry, Abel. I didn’t have any idea.”

“That’s right. You have no idea.” He stood and looked down over me with what could be described only as disgust as he headed for the front door. He yanked it open, and it slammed against the wall before banging shut behind him.

Chapter Twelve

Anarchy

I stared at the television as tears formed in my eyes and spilled down my cheeks. I sat like that until the credits rolled during the next movie and my eyes ran dry. I took a scalding‐hot shower to remove any remnants of Abel’s touch. I was pulling on sweatpants and Brock’s anarchy T‐shirt, which always made me feel a little closer to him.

Trish had come home and locked herself in her room, which was fine by me because I wasn’t in the mood to talk. I knew I should call Marie. She would answer on the first ring and wouldn’t judge me, but I didn’t care anymore.

The wall had gone back up, and I no longer gave a fuck about anything. It hurt less that way. I was used to being pushed around and knocked down, but now I had become the bully. I’d played my part too well and hurt one of the few people who saw the real me.

The world continued to spin; the clock ticked; and life moved forward with no destination or goal. As I sat down at the kitchen table and ate a bowl of cereal, Trish finally emerged from her room, looking stunning as usual in a pale‐yellow sundress that dipped dangerously low on her chest and fell just below her ass. Her mile‐high strappy sandals made her look like a supermodel ready for the runway.

“What happened to you?” she asked, as she looked over my damp and tangled hair, my face makeup free and puffy from crying. “Guy trouble?”

I glanced up at her, debating whether to give her the usual canned sarcastic response or open up and offer her a sliver of truth. I didn’t have time to decide, because a knock came at the door.

“Speaking of trouble,” she called out in a singsong voice as she went to open the door.

“You look incredible,” Abel said from the hallway, and Trish giggled. “Good enough to eat.”

I nearly chocked on my Cocoa Puffs.

“I just have to grab my purse,” she replied then headed to her room as Abel stepped into view, his hands shoved into his jeans pockets. His eyes were glazed over and red, which only made their blue‐ green color stand out more.

He looked past me, as if I weren’t even there, and smiled broadly as Trish reemerged. His hand slid to the back of her neck, and he pulled her lips to his. I could only stare as they made out a few feet away from me.

“Don’t wait up,” Trish called out, and wiped her finger under her lower lip to make sure her lip gloss wasn’t smeared. She took Abel by the hand and pulled him toward the door. As soon as they were gone, I dropped my spoon, my appetite ruined.

The world spun.

The clock ticked.

Life moved forward.

The only problem was that I was stuck in the past. I refused to let myself move forward and live. I survived, and right now that was all I could do.

I went to my room and grabbed my Kindle and read until my eyes went unfocused; I checked the clock every few minutes. By four in the morning, I debated going grocery shopping. I was craving an omelet. I settled for a quick walk to the convenience store and picked up some breakfast supplies. By the time I got back to the house, my appetite had vanished.

Around five I decided to lie on my bed in the dark and find shapes in the plaster smudges in the ceiling.

A bang and shuffle, bang and shuffle came from the front door.

“Shh. You’re going to wake up Lie,” Trish whispered with a laugh.

“She’s a big girl. She’ll get over it,” Abel panted, and it sounded as if they were making out and tripping their way to Trish’s room. I heard the distinct sound of a zipper coming down and a thud as Abel’s back hit the wall across the hall from my room. I pushed up on my elbows as glassy, empty eyes stared back at me through the open door to my bedroom. My gaze traveled lower to his hand, which was tangled in Trish’s blond hair as she knelt in front of him.

I rolled over and covered my face with my pillow as fresh tears pricked my eyes. Abel muttered something, but it was muffled by my pillow, and the noises stopped with the clicking of Trish’s bedroom door.

My thoughts were a scrambled mess of memories from the past and present. I tossed and turned until the sun splashed lines of light through the blinds.

I got up and got ready for class, tiptoeing through the hall so I wouldn’t wake anyone, but as I stepped out of the bathroom, Abel was waiting outside the door. I stared at the floor between us and stepped around him as he went inside.

I left through the front door before he came back out. Campus was two blocks to the left and three down. I enjoyed the walk on most days because it gave me time to think, but this morning I wanted to shut everything out.

I had only one class with Trish, and that was on Thursdays, so I knew I could avoid the horrid details of her night with Abel for at least a few hours. It didn’t make a difference, though, because my brain zeroed in and focused on what could have happened, and that was probably much worse than the reality of the situation.

I felt bad for what I’d said to Abel that had sparked his memory of the death of his parents. That was what bothered me so much. That was what I told myself as I picked at my burger from the Stop Shop, delaying the inevitable trip home. All my worrying was for nothing as the apartment sat empty when I arrived.

I decided to make the best of my alone time and wash the dirty laundry. I was folding it and putting it away when the front door finally opened.

Trish arrived with Abel, Adam, and Sean. They were in mid-conversation as they entered, and I turned my back to my door as I continued to organize my laundry. The guys made their way to the living room, and Trish stopped at my room.

“Huge party at Sigma Chi tonight. Wear blue.”

“Oh, I don’t really feel like going.” I shook my head and didn’t turn around to look at her.

“Don’t be such a pussy, Lie.” After a moment she sighed. “Boy trouble?”

I nodded but didn’t elaborate, and she left me alone and returned to the living room.

I headed to the kitchen and grabbed a soda. When I turned around, Abel was behind me, his hands shoved into his pockets.

“You really not going?”

“I don’t want to go where I’m not wanted.” I stepped around him, but he grabbed my arm, and we stood side by side.

“Who said you’re not wanted?”he said quietly into my ear, and I immediately was taken back to our private moment on the couch. I chanced a glance at his eyes, and my chest tightened.

“I’m sorry about what I said.”

He stood upright and released my arm, his snarky persona back with a flash. “Trish wouldn’t say no to a party.”

Hot and cold. Those were the two temperatures of Abel. There was no in‐between. I felt like a complete ass as he left me standing in the kitchen alone, my apology still hanging, unaccepted, in the air.

“Is she coming?” Trish asked, as I stepped into the hallway.

“She’ll come,” Abel replied, as she squealed and wrapped her arms around his neck. I slipped into my room and dug out my navy‐blue tank top and cut‐off shorts. I planned to at least be comfortable if I was going to spend the night feeling miserable.

We took Abel’s car, and he didn’t hesitate to motion me into the backseat between Dumb and Dumber. Trish pushed herself against Abel’s side, and his arm hung around her, his fingertips in front of my face as they drew small circles on her bare shoulder. Sean leaned forward so he could talk to Adam around me, and I pressed myself into the back of the seat to stay out of their conversation. Every once in a while, Abel chimed in or nodded as they talked about everything from sports to drugs.

The song “Brown Eyed Girl” came on the radio, and Abel turned it up. I saw him smirk, but he didn’t look back at me while it played. It reminded me of my mother and what I’d told him she’d said about my eyes. It was a dig, and one I deserved, but it still hurt. I didn’t belong here, and we both knew it.

We pulled up outside the frat house, and it was complete chaos. People were everywhere, and the anarchy didn’t stop on the lawn. The entire house was wall‐to‐wall bodies. Trish beelined to the kitchen to get us some drinks. Abel poured shots for each of us and warned us not to take drinks from anyone but him. I rolled my eyes and was met with a glare as he held my cup inches from my hand.

“I get it,” I snapped, and he finally handed me my drink. I gulped it down greedily and held it back to him for a refill. I tried to ignore the nagging memory of Brock’s sister, Laurie, who’d been drugged at a similar party. I didn’t need to be told about the consequences of trusting strangers. Brock had learned the hard way when his sister had died, and the butterfly effect from that event had destroyed my own life. Abel was about a year too late to save me.

“That’s my girl!” Trish hollered as Abel poured. He tipped the bottle to his lips and took a long drink. His free hand rubbed up and down her back.

“Come on.” Trish grabbed my wrist. “Let’s go find you some guy and make that asshole of yours regret breaking your heart.”

I looked at Abel as I replied while Trish pulled me away. “I’m a big girl. I’ll get over it,” I said, echoing his words from the night before. His jaw clenched, and the muscles jumped and pulled under his tanned skin.

“That’s the fucking spirit. Tell me which one you think is cute because it’s like a buffet up in this bitch.”

I glanced around the room. “Which ones haven’t you slept with?” I asked, as I raised an eyebrow.

Trish playfully smacked my arm. “We may have to go to a different college for that,” she joked, and I began to relax as my veins warmed from the alcohol.

“That guy’s cute.” I gestured with my chin to a guy who was leaning over a coffee table, rolling dice.

“He’s a douche. Stay away from him,” Abel said into my ear from behind me. His body was pressed against mine for a moment before he stepped around me and handed Trish a cup.

“Funny coming from you, Pot. Most guys are douches. Some are just easier to tolerate.” I laughed, and Trish joined in, but Abel was less than amused.