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Remedies
Chapter 7
And I had to admit; the shot was damn near perfect.
I'd learnt a thing or two from my... experience with my father, and knew right where to hit to make it hurt. Of course, I wasn't strong enough to leave any sort of serious injury, but from the way blood had started slowly dripping between the fingers of the outraged girl clinging to her wounded nose, I'd say that the damage was just about enough to have knocked some of the bitch out of that child.
Unfortunately, Natalie's friends had been there to catch her as she stumbled backwards. One of them had fallen on her ass, much to my amusement, but two others were helping Natalie stabilise herself. I worked to keep my face impassive, but it was just too hard and I was just too drunk. Fury and a little smugness were coursing through my body, making me eager to land another hit after her unnecessary cruelty.
But as I advanced again, hands clamped on my shoulders, dragging me back. "Let go!" I screamed to the restrainers, whose grips were tight as metal vices and impossible to resist against. "She deserves every little drop of blood that leaks out of that surgically enhanced nose!"
People had formed a circle around us, watching excitedly. A couple of guys had moved to hold Natalie back, as she looked ready to scratch my face of with those manicured nails. "You'll pay for that, bitch!" she screamed. I still heard the odd group of guys chanting 'Fight! Fight!' over the commotion.
"Fuck, Toni, calm down," Zach's voice yelled in my ear. "She's not worth it. Just get a hold of yourself."
In the end, another guy was needed to restrain me, and the three of them finally overpowered my violent struggles, eventually getting me sat down on the sofa with a whole lot of coaxing from a calm Zach and a determined yet terrified Gene. I assumed Natalie had been taken to a bathroom to clean up - I'd had the satisfaction of watching blood stain her light dress. There was no sign of Vienna.
"When I called you a badass, I didn't actually expect you to meet expectations with such enthusiasm," Dan said grimly. He'd been one of the two holding me back. Surprising, since I'd heard that he'd been involved in quite a few fights in his time. Why would he discourage them now, of all times?
"Nettie, what were you thinking?" Gene's voice was little more than a squeak, and I had to strain to hear it over the music.
"She got what she deserved," I said quietly. "Everyone wanted to do that, but no one had the guts. You should be thanking me."
"You're right about that," said a voice from right next to my ear. I jumped, and swivelled around on the sofa to see Landon's face inches away from my own. "She needed a little sense batted into her, but perhaps without such a level of force."
I didn't reply. Without a doubt, Landon had heard the term Natalie had used to describe me: 'boyfriend stealer'. I could hardly bear meeting his green eyes. What right did she have to call me that? I hadn't 'stolen' Zach; he'd just dumped her. And I'd liked Landon way before I'd found out he and Natalie were involved.
Since my own were glued to the floor, I saw when Landon held out a hand towards me. With no hesitation, I took it in my own, and he gently pulled me away from the sofa. I heard Gene squeal with excitement. On the way to wherever he was taking me, I managed to grab and down another shot of vodka, figuring I'd need it; the conversation coming up wasn't going to be fun.
Somehow, Landon managed to find a dark, quiet corner for the two of us. Well, when I say quiet, I mean that the music wasn't so loud that it felt like it was damaging your eardrums. I couldn't see anyone else around, which made my nerves tingle with anticipation.
"That was quite a hit you landed on her," Landon said, leaning his side against the wall next to us. "Where'd you learn that?"
Pushing the panic brought on by his question aside, I gave a nonchalant shrug. "Seemed like common sense. Can't everyone do it?"
He eyed me for another moment, probably trying to push past my lies, but I had enough willpower not to buckle under that intense stare. "No one else that I've met. Well, for someone so pretty, you sure have a lot hidden beneath the surface."
"Well, looks like you're going to have to go a little deeper to reach all of my secrets," I replied, his compliment making me overconfident and ecstatic. But I deliberated for a moment. Slutty drunk much?
He'd taken me outside, I only just realised, and the merciless winds made me shiver. Noticing, he took off his jacket and draped it on my shoulders. The action required him to reach behind me, and during it, our faces were so close that his hair tickled my cheeks.
My senses were reaching their climaxes. The sounds of the faded beating music were nothing compared to his slow, steady breathing. My eyes had nothing to experience but the smooth lines of Landon's face, the pure emeralds he had for eyes. The feeling of his hands lingering on my shoulders worked as a source of heat better than any jacket ever would. My nose was filled with Landon's scent which although was now oh so familiar to me, still held the same effect as when I'd first passed him in the high school's hallways. It sent me reeling more than my drinks had. All I could taste was alcohol.
But I had a feeling that was about to change.
His hands moved to cup my chin, and with just the slightest tilt of my head, our lips met.
I had imagined scenarios of our first kiss plenty of times, but none lived up to the reality of it. His soft lips guided mine, and from the way he did it slowly, tauntingly, I knew he could tell that my heart was beating rapidly, telling me that I wanted more. Without thinking, I lifted my hands and knotted them in the hair that I'd always only imagined touching, pulling him closer to me at the same time.
And it worked. Our kiss turned more passionate, and Landon pushed me against the wall of the house, pressing his body against mine. No one would be able to see us now, in the dark. It felt secretive, and even more thrilling than the ride here.
At least it was, until one of his hands travelled downwards from my shoulder. It took me a moment - not because of the bursts of excitement that flooded through me from where he was touching - to realise he was trying to pull my dress down.
Even in my drunken state, warning bells sounded in the back of my mind. Did I really want to do anything like this now, here, with him? I'd only made things easier for him by wearing a strapless dress, so he pulled the dress down with ease. Weakly, I tried to pull it back up as his kisses travelled downward.
"Landon," I breathed, facing an inner battle with my mind between how wrong this was and how right it felt. "Wait..."
He pulled away for a moment, and met my eyes. "You too scared?" he murmured with a smirk, his words bringing back a chilling nostalgia of the motorcycle ride which had only been hours ago but felt like a lifetime away.
Had this been what Vienna was talking about? Did Landon jump into things too quickly with everyone he was with?
Should I be afraid of what he'd do next?
No, of course not; this was Landon, the boy I'd watched and admired and fallen in love with. And his hands and lips on me now felt like nothing else in the world, and there was nowhere I'd rather be.
During my hesitation, the skilful little bastard had managed to pull my dress down to my waist. Thank god I'd chosen a sexy bra to wear, because now it was the only thing covering my upper half. For a flickering moment, I felt embarrassed and paranoid that Landon had seen and been with so much better - he'd been with Vienna, after all...
But his eyes travelled hungrily down my body, much like they had earlier, but more deliberately now. "Damn," he whispered. "And I didn't think you could get any hotter."
So I was weak. Inside, all there was was a girl seeking approval from the boy she liked, and now that he'd given her that, he knew he could do whatever he wanted.
And I had absolutely no idea what that would be. I'd never fid out, because of that damn interrupter.
"Toni? Shit, is that you?"
A voice rang through the darkness, and Landon paused in his advances. I realised that we were beneath a dim light hanging from the house's walls, so we could be seen by anyone, but in the darkness, I couldn't see them. Hastily, I yanked my dress back into place, my cheeks growing red with humiliation.
Landon was the first to speak. "What are you doing here, Zach?"
Zach stepped into the light. "I could ask you the same thing. Going for her while she's so drunk she can barely stand on her two legs? That's low, dude. I thought you'd stopped that."
While they spoke, fury and anger burned through me greater than it ever had this evening. "What do you know, Zach?" I shouted. "You're fucking ruining everything!"
Zach looked hurt. "Nettie, if you were sober, you'd know this was wrong. You're not like this."
"You don't know what I'm like! Stop acting as if you know everything; you're just full of shit." I knew I was overreacting again, but hey, that was what alcohol brought out in me. "I hate you. Just leave me alone." With that, I stormed off, leaving the two guys to whatever they wanted to fucking do with each other.
Back in the house, I was doing my best not to cry. Things had been going so well - hadn't they? - and Zach had had the nerve to just barge in and start dictating my life to me. Who did he think he was?
I sought refuge in whatever alcohol I could get my hands on, and soon enough, I was giggling and babbling about nothing with people I hardly knew from school. There was no sign of either Landon or Zach.
I'd completely lost track of the night, but at some point, someone lay a hand on my arm. I turned with a wide smile to see Dan looking pretty drunk himself, but there was still concern I'd never seen before in his eyes. "Jesus, I wish I'd met this Toni before," he shouted with a grin over the music. "You're the life of the party."
"Aw, shucks. You're not as bad as I thought either, my algebra-retarded student."
He looped an arm around my shoulder. "I've got a cab outside; wanna share it? You look like you're on your last legs."
I almost flinched at the similarity of his comment to Zach's earlier, 'she can barely stand on her two legs', but this time I knew Dan was right. People were starting to leave, anyway; the party was coming to an end. With the looks of this house, I didn't want to stick around for when the parents got back. "Sure. Lead the way."
The cab driver looked like he had things he'd much rather be doing than driving around drunk teenagers who secretly (or not so secretly) laughed endlessly at how his haircut strongly resembled that of Severus Snape. I mean, the least he could do was give it a good wash.
When we got to my house, almost leaning my entire weight on Dan, I slowly made my way with him to my front door, doing my best not to trip on the gravel.
I didn't even register the other car in the drive.
We reached the front door after what felt like a marathon. I kept my eyes open long enough to give Dan a loopy smile. "Thanks - you're my hero." I paused. "Dan-man. That is your superhero name."
He merely rolled his eyes. "You sure you can take it from here?"
"Are you try-" Hiccup- "Trying to imply that you want to get me to bed? Little perv-"
I froze. Even in my heavily inebriated state, I couldn't miss the familiar sound of a bottle smashing against the wall, and the shards of glass clattering to the floor like hail.
Maybe it wasn't too late - he might have not heard us - I could just tell Dan I forgot my keys -
The door flung open next to us. Slowly, like a deer caught in headlights, I turned to see the large silhouette of a man. In the dark, I couldn't see him well, but I had no doubt that a light sheen of sweat would cover his olive toned skin from how much he'd been drinking, and even in the dark, I couldn't mistake his dark, merciless eyes staring right back at me. I could smell the alcohol from where he was standing, which was impressive, since I was surrounded by my own pretty strong bubble of alcohol.
Dan was looking at Papa like he couldn't believe his eyes. I guess when you were brought up in a family like his, it shocked you a little to see such a discomposed parent figure such as the one leaning against the doorframe, a bottle in hand.
"Antoinette," he drawled slowly, never moving his gaze from me. "Where've you been?"
It took me a moment to recompose myself. It'd been at least a couple of weeks since I'd been right under his gaze, completely helpless. "Out," I replied in a confident, unwavering voice. "My friend has helped me home."
Dan had moved his gaze to me now, as if begging me to explain.
For a moment, everyone was silent. I had two choices: one was to head inside, and face my father without Dan or anyone else ever finding out. That would result in pain.
The other option would be to bolt down the drive, chancing the fact that Papa had been drinking and may not be as agile as myself. I'd tell Dan everything. And that would result in pity.
No way could I bear anyone looking at me like that again.
So I chose pain.
"I'd better get inside, then," I said weakly. Papa's eyes twinkled with unspoken promises of what I'd receive past that door. "Thanks for everything, Dan."
He nodded slowly at me, his eyes moving between Papa and myself. "Take care, Toni," he said softly before turning and heading down the drive.
And then the cab drove off. We were alone.
I swallowed.
"Get inside," he growled behind me, grabbing the back of my dress to make sure I complied. I wasn't about to go against an order like that, so I stepped into the house, and the door slammed behind me like bars of a prison.
By this time, my head was spinning and my heart was hammering in my chest, making more blood pound through my ears. I was having trouble standing upright. "Can I just go to bed?" I whispered, cowering against a wall. The dim lighting in the hallway cast shadows across the room, creating dark corners that I wished I could hide in. I felt naked in the flimsy dress covering me. Since Mason hadn't come to the rescue, it meant he wasn't home.
I had never felt more alone.
"No. Face your consequences, you little shit." His wrists clamped around my arms like iron vices, and he threw me across the hallway, slamming me head first into the opposite wall. Wasn't really helping with the dizziness.
"All I ask," he muttered dementedly, slowly making his way towards me, "is that you dedicate just a little fucking time to your Mama's dream. Instead, you're out dressed as a slut, getting shit faced every night! She's disgusted up there!" He threw his bottle towards me, but his aiming was off, so it smashed just next to my head. I screamed as it shattered, beer spilling down the wall like blood.
The whole time this was happening, I was half praying that I would hear the roar of a motorbike outside, and in would stroll my true hero to save the day.
But no. That never happened.
Noticing his miss, Papa settled with slamming me against the wall. "You kill her, and then her dreams along with it. Rot in hell."
The night dragged on. When, after at least an hour of hits, shouts and 'I wish you were never born's, it finally ended, and I lay crumpled on the floor, somehow managing to withstand crying until Papa disappeared into his bedroom, I half wished that I had chosen pity.
Well, one thing I learnt the next morning: combine a hangover, a night with a drunk Papa, and someone shaking your shoulders and yelling right in your ear to wake you up is just about the worst feeling one could conjure up at a time like this.
"Toni! Toni! Oh my god, tell me you're alive, please!"
My groan acted as a confirmation. By now, a throb was steadily growing in my head, and as I came to, it spread to just about every part of my body.
I opened my eyes to the stinging light of a Sunday morning. Wait, morning? I glanced at a clock hanging at the end of the hallway. No. Afternoon.
Gene let out a sob of relief. I glanced at her through squinted eyes to see tears streaming down her face. She wore the same dress that she did last night. "I - I'm so sorry, Toni," she blubbered. "Mace was t-talking about you sleeping over some-somewhere and I was planning to take you back to mine – but I passed out on the couch at the party and Connor and Zach took me home! I'm such a fuck up of a friend, I'm so sorry!" Her words became incoherent as they were lost between her wails.
"Gene," I muttered, aware of the now noticeable stinging spreading across my whole body. "Just shut up. Please." She complied, and silence engulfed us for a moment. Much more pleasant for my ears. "He might still be here, and I really don't want to wake him up. Let's go to the Laurences', okay?"
She sniffed, her eyes wide with panic as she scanned the room like she was expecting my father to be glaring at us from a doorway. I had no doubt that his own hangover would keep his unconsciousness uninterrupted.
After pulling my arm around her shoulder to support me, Gene slowly guided me out of the house. My feet were bare, but that was hardly what made the journey painful. Little spikes of pain were shooting through me with every movement, and I still had yet to let the terror of last night sink in - which I had no doubt would inflict the most pain.
Finally, my feet met familiar gravel. I was aching and sore, and pretty sure a wound on my shoulder had just reopened. Damn. This dress was totally ruined.
As suspected on a Sunday, a car was missing in the drive because Zach was at football practice. Abby opened the door, and acted exactly how I needed her to. After the brief flash of shock on her face upon seeing the two bedraggled (one injured) girls on her doorstep, she ushered us into the kitchen and got out some ice packs. Cody, who also looked like he's just gotten out of bed – obviously not planning to see anyone this Sunday afternoon – rushed upstairs to get me an oversized t-shirt to wear, since in my skimpy dress, I felt a little overexposed around the Laurences.
All the while, as my pieces were put back together, as Abby hugged me fiercely, yet careful of my wounds, and Gene did her best to control her crying, and Cody handed me a freshly cooked bacon sandwich – which he knew was my favourite – and Zach's parents spoke quietly in the corner, I was keeping my walls up, determined to push the experience away from me, driving away the emotions that I knew would eventually engulf me, depriving me of breath and sanity for, however short, a torturous, endless amount of time. The little stings of antiseptic, bruises knocking against tables and cuts healing were nothing compared to what I was holding inside.
"I'm sorry to trouble you," I said softly to Abby while the others were busy.
She gave me a smile, but her eyes were shining with tears. It made my body fill to the brim with guilt. "Oh, Antoinette. We're happy to help in any way we can. In fact, I'm grateful I get to spend time with you. It gets pretty overwhelming, being the only girl in the house. You're practically..." she paused as she recomposed herself. Her voice became firm. "Practically a daughter. So, just don't worry about anything like that. We all love you, Toni, so much. You're family. Nothing will get in the way of that."
Her words, at the same time as warming me right to the centre of my heart, also broke the lock that was holding back the onslaught of emotion. With a silent, hopeless sob, I buried my head in her shoulder, my composure shattering, finally letting the unwelcome thoughts plague my mind. The pain, the guilt, the hate, it all tumbled into the stream of tears and quiet cries that now dampened Abby's shirt as she whispered reassurances to me and held me. She provided as much comfort as she could, but at that moment, all I wanted was my real mother. She would make everything better, and if I had never made that stupid phone call, none of this would have ever happened. I wouldn't be mentally or physically wounded and seeking help (or just putting stress on) in a family that wasn't mine.
Soon enough, Zach joined us, and without hesitation, I threw my arms around him, with a whispered, "I'm sorry." I had been drunk and overemotional last night, and above all irate that Zach had interrupted Landon and me. But Zach had been right. I didn't know what would have happened if he hadn't interfered, how it would have ended. He hadn't deserved me getting pissed at him; he was protecting me.
I could have told him all of that, and was planning to, but before I could open my mouth, he wrapped his arms around me, holding me tightly to him. "Shh," he murmured. "It's fine. Don't worry. Everything's fine." He pulled away for a moment to examine me with his bright blue eyes. Just like his mother's, they were filled with concern, but with something else, too… something more aggressively protective. "Is she okay? Nothing serious?" He was talking to his mother.
Abby hesitated. "Cuts and bruises, she's had worse. No need for the hospital; she should heal up okay." That made Zach's shoulders relax slightly, but I could still see the tension in his eyes.
"You're staying the night here, right?" he asked softly. I knew it wasn't really a question, but I nodded anyway. "Have you told Mason?"
This time, I was the one who hesitated. "No," I said slowly, wiping away tears with the back of my hand. Cody suddenly appeared with a tissue box, and I took one gratefully. "I… don't really want to face him yet. I'll call him tonight, though." Zach looked like he was about to argue, but eventually dropped it.
By this time, it was already early evening, since it had taken so long to patch me up. Mr Laurence came into the room, a forced-looking, bright smile on his face. "Come on, I've got the first episode of Doctor Who recorded."
Cody nodded, and looked over at me, smiling encouragingly. "Let's get this back to a normal Sunday, and get out the ice cream."
His words made me freeze, my heart clenching with fear and realisation. Sunday. How could I forget? With a glance at the clock, I saw that it was already six thirty.
In a mere half an hour, I had a tutoring session with Dan.
Dan, who had taken me home last night, and would know that the only person I'd been with between then and now was my father. Dan, the popular, big mouthed, trouble causing footballer who would find out the secret I'd been keeping locked away for years, and would spread it around the school like a disease.
Miss the tutoring session and face expulsion from school, or go to the tutoring session and face ultimate humiliation?
"Ah, hell."
There we have it. Would love to have some feedback, and thanks for reading!