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Authors: Tabatha Vargo

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BOOK: Black Sheep
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SEVENTEEN

Nicole

 

 

 

 

IT FELT AS
if I died with my parents. My body went into protection mode, and emotionally, I went numb. I prayed every second through the wake and funeral that my feelings didn’t return.

If I couldn’t feel anything, I couldn’t hurt. If I was numb, I could stay standing for Brian. I didn’t cry. It was as if my tear ducts had dried out completely. And when someone spoke to me, I tried to smile. I knew the second the numbness wore off I’d break.

That break happened the minute I stepped inside our house. Brian went straight upstairs, slamming his bedroom door behind him to block me and the rest of the world out. For the first time since arriving back in Charleston, I was alone. The numbness went away at that moment, and everything came crashing down over me.

The room shifted. My heart felt as though it exploded in my chest. And when the door opened, and I saw Tyson standing there, the pain was even worse. I couldn’t take it anymore, and everything rushing to the surface all at one time shut my body down.

I fainted.

When I woke up, I was in my bed tucked in and warm. Lying there, I let the pain wash over me, drowning in misery and making me feel like I couldn’t breathe. Clenching my eyes shut, I tried to hold the tears in, but I couldn’t. They broke through my lids, draining down the sides of my face and soaking my pillow.

The sun broke through my curtains an hour later, and I knew I had to greet the day. Brian needed me. I needed to take care of things for Mom and Dad’s insurance. I couldn’t afford to lay around in misery and grief. Not when I had to tend to everything.

Going back to school didn’t seem like a possibility, and I could already see my life unraveling before my eyes. My dreams—my desires—everything I’d worked hard for my entire life was gone along with my lifeline … my parents.

The house was silent when I went downstairs. I’d dressed for the day and cleaned my face as best I could. My eyes were still red and puffy, but at least they weren’t swollen like I’d been punched in the face. Considering how hard I’d cried earlier in the morning, I expected that.

If this were any other day, Mom would be in the kitchen cooking breakfast. Dad would be at the table reading the paper and greeting me when I came in. But nothing would be the same, and things would never be good again … At least, that was how it felt.

But I was surprised to smell bacon in the air as I made my way toward the kitchen. Surely, my little brother wasn’t up and cooking breakfast. I didn’t think I’d ever seen him touch the stove, and I wasn’t sure I wanted him to. Burning the house down wouldn’t be good, and it was the last thing we needed, considering it felt like we were losing everything.

When I stepped into the kitchen, I was met with Tyson’s back. He was at the stove cooking, and for some reason, it angered me.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

I barely recognized my own voice … It sounded raw and deep.

He turned my way, his sad eyes moving over my face before he turned and added another strip of bacon to the pan.

“I thought you guys might be hungry,” he replied.

We weren’t his concern. I’d never be his concern. I didn’t need him, and I certainly didn’t want him.

“Did you stay here last night?”

I didn’t want him here. Sure, our home was his home, as well, but none of that mattered anymore. My parents were gone, and they were the glue holding everything together.

He nodded. “I stayed in my room.” He turned the stove off and moved the pan away from the heat. Then his eyes were on me again, making me feel itchy and angry. “You scared me yesterday, Nicole.”

“Don’t worry about me,” I snapped. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.”

He shook his head. “That’s a lie, and you know it.”

He tossed some bacon on a plate and added some eggs.

“You need to eat and keep up your strength.”

He placed the plate on the counter for me, but I didn’t move from my spot. “Again, I said don’t worry about me. Actually,” I said, moving closer to him on shaking legs, “you can just leave. We don’t need you here, and honestly, I don’t want you here.”

Every time I looked at him, all I saw was him and that girl. I saw her hands on him. I heard him calling out her name. It sickened me, and with everything I had going on, it was one more thing I didn’t want to think about.

Hurt filled his dark eyes. Usually, I’d feel bad. Before, I would’ve never hurt Tyson this way, but things had changed, and seeing the pain in his eyes did nothing to me. I was happy the numbness was slowly making its way back into my veins. The less I felt, the better.

He nodded, setting the spatula on the counter by the sink, and then he walked past me. I stood there, listening as he made his way to the door. The sounds of his keys rattling filled the foyer, and then the front door opened and closed.

I shut my eyes, shutting out the tiny bit of pain that somehow broke through my numb barrier. I’d made the right decision. Tyson was the last thing I needed in my life. Plus, being around him made me feel uncomfortable and brought up things I wanted to forget. Things like a girl moaning on top of him. Things like him telling her how amazing she was. I couldn’t do it.

 

 

THINGS CONTINUED TO
go downhill from there, making me wonder what I’d done in my life that was so terrible.

What had I done to deserve so much pain and loss?

It started with Mom and Dad’s insurance money. Dad had let one of his policies lapse, literally, a week before their accident. That made no sense to me since Dad was always on top of things, but maybe the holidays had kept him busy … Maybe he just forgot.

Either way, it meant we were left with just enough money to pay off the house, which I’d found out my parents had taken a second mortgage out on, and cover the funeral costs.

I’d gone my entire life thinking my parents had everything together, but I’d been wrong. They made sure we had everything we needed, but apparently, they’d been struggling a bit behind the scenes. It made me respect them even more for never showing their struggle—for never putting anything like financial issues on Brian and me. But at the same time, I was upset since they’d left with things unsettled.

Once it was all said and done, nothing was left for school and household costs. Even though the house was paid off, bills still needed to be paid, which meant anything that was left of my college fund would need to be used toward those bills. Brian had a college fund, as well, but I was determined not to touch it. It didn’t matter what I had to do; I wouldn’t take his future away from him.

So with sadness in my heart, I had my things shipped back to me from Juilliard, and I dropped out. I responded to Russell’s many text messages finally, letting him know that I wouldn’t be returning to New York. I thanked him for everything and wished him luck.

My dream of becoming a dancer was long gone. It hurt to think of it, but my future was no more. From that moment on, I’d be working to make ends meet. I’d be working for Brian. It was what I had to do.

EIGHTEEN

Tyson

 

 

 

 

I STAYED AWAY
from the house, leaving Nicole to deal with things in her way. It killed me to think of the things that could be happening with her while I wasn’t there to take care of her, but I made Brian promise to text if an emergency came up.

I went back to work the following Monday, drowning myself in motor oil and engines and making sure the Palmers were far from my mind. I couldn’t focus when I was thinking about how badly my family was being ripped apart.

After working all day and tattooing all night, I’d drive by the house and sit outside. It was stalker-ish, but I needed to see the lights on. I needed to see that life still existed inside the house I was once loved in.

An hour would pass while I contemplated going inside, but then I’d remember the look in her eyes when she saw me with another girl. I’d remember how broken she was and acknowledge that she didn’t need the added hurt of me. I’d remember everything I’d ever done in my life and the darkness that threatened from within, and I’d leave to go home to an empty apartment.

The pictures of the Palmers placed around my house helped me through, but at the same time, they added pain to my heart. I missed Mr. and Mrs. Palmer, and I missed Nicole and Brian. It hurt to know the greatness in my life was gone, and I couldn’t do anything to bring them back.

The following day, I took my car and washed and vacuumed it. The sixty-seven Chevy Impala reminded me of Mr. Palmer. He’d helped me buy it and had even taken the time to help me fix it up.

“This is a classic, son. They don’t make ‘em like this anymore,” he’d said.

And he was right.

I’d taken care of that car like it was my baby, and when I could, I’d put a brand-new black paint job on it. It was beautiful, and sadly, it seemed it was all I had left of Mr. Palmer.

Not that I expected the family to leave me anything. If they had, I would’ve given it all to Nicole anyway, but I had my car, and I had the memories that went along with it—happy memories.

And that was my life.

Working, watching over Nicole and Brian—even though they had no idea I was—and moping around the apartment wishing I could go back and change it all.

And then it happened—a text that scared the living shit out of me.

 

Brian: Please come! We need your help.

 

I was at The Blind Tiger cleaning up my station when the text came in. Without even telling anyone I was leaving, I ran from the shop and jumped in my car. I drove like fire was chasing me to get to Nicole and Brian. I didn’t know what was going on, but Brian knew to text if there was an emergency. If he was texting, then something was definitely wrong.

My engine roared when I pulled into the drive, and I didn’t even bother shutting my car door once I got out. Instead, I ran to the front door, slung it open, and ran toward the loud screams I heard in the kitchen.

Time ceased to exist. My heart felt like it was seconds away from exploding out of my chest.

I couldn’t lose them. I’d die without Nicole, and Brian needed someone to take care of him until he was old enough to take care of himself.

No.

I’d never let anything happen to them

Another scream had sounded before I ran into the kitchen, and it was the same scream that sometimes haunted my nightmares … Nicole. I didn’t know what to expect once I was in the kitchen, but what I found was both shocking and brought me great relief all at once.

Bubbles were everywhere. Water squirted from the dishwasher, covering the floor and Nicole as she pressed the buttons over and over again to stop it.

“Make it stop, Nicole!” Brian laughed.

“What do you think I’m trying to do?”

It was chaos, but something beautiful had developed among the crazy. When Nicole looked over at Brian, still struggling to stop the dishwasher, she was laughing and smiling.

Her smile had always been beautiful—she’d always been gorgeous—but after weeks without seeing the sunshine of her happiness, it meant so much more. The breath was knocked from my lungs, and my heart squeezed with all the love I had for her. It was almost too much.

Moving toward the laundry room, I flipped on the light switch and pulled open the breaker box. Scanning the labels, I found the one marked for the kitchen, and I turned it off. Everything in the kitchen died, including the sounds of spraying water.

“What did you do?” I heard Brian ask.

“I’m not sure. It just turned off,” Nicole responded.

I smiled as I stepped back into the kitchen. It was then they noticed me. Brian’s face lit up, and Nicole’s smile dropped.

“I turned the breaker off.” I shrugged.

I’d known the dishwasher was broken for a while. Mr. Palmer wanted to fix it, but Mrs. Palmer preferred washing her dishes by hand. I’d always thought Nicole knew the dishwasher was broken, as well, since she never questioned why we had to wash them by hand after dinner on Sundays or after a big meal for a holiday. Apparently, she wasn’t aware.

“The dishwasher’s been broken for years,” I said, trying to hold back my smile.

Nicole pushed back the soaked strands of hair around her face and her shoulders stiffened. “I didn’t know that.”

“You never wondered why we never used it?” I asked.

She shrugged and pulled her wet shirt away from her skin. “I mean I guess I never thought about it. I figured Mom just wanted us to spend time together.”

I couldn’t fault her logic since forcing us to spend time together sounded like something Mrs. Palmer would do.

“She never wanted it fixed, but if you want, I could look at it. I should’ve fixed it a long time ago.”

I never did for selfish reasons. If the dishwasher didn’t work, then I’d always have the time with Nicole while we washed dishes—being close to her and watching her work without the risk of being caught staring. But, if she wanted, I’d buy her a new one. Whatever Nicole wanted, I wanted her to have.

Obviously, she’d lost a lot—her parents and her dreams of becoming a dancer. I never asked why she didn’t return to school. Nicole was selfless. She’d never drag her little brother to New York. Plus, if she did, how would she take care of him?

I’d learned a bit from Brian. Nicole didn’t think he paid much attention to his surroundings, but he did, and he filled me in on all the problems and hurdles she was facing.

I knew the house had been heavily mortgaged, and she used the insurance money to pay it off. I knew Brian had a college fund that Nicole refused to touch, and for that, I didn’t blame her at all. I also knew she was using what was left of her college fund to take care of them and pay the bills.

It killed me to know she was struggling so much, and I hated that she wouldn’t let me help her. But I did what I could without her finding out. I paid bills on the side, and when she wasn’t home, I’d take care of the lawn. Whatever I could do to take the pressure off, I did.

“No. That’s okay. I think we can handle things from here on out.” She looked away at the flooded floor and bubbles. “Thanks, Tyson.”

She was being hardheaded and difficult, as usual. There was no way I was going to leave them with this mess and no lights on in the kitchen.

What was she going to do? 

If she turned the breaker back on, the water would only start to spray again. She didn’t want to admit it, but she needed me to fix it or at least unhook it so we could turn the power back on to the kitchen.

“You do realize that once you turn the power back on in here, the dishwasher will turn back on, right?”

I wanted to laugh at her expression, but I couldn’t. Her eyes went wide, and her mouth popped open.

“Just let me unhook the dishwasher and then I’ll leave. Okay?”

She sighed in aggravation and nodded. “I’d appreciate that.”

I was surprised she agreed, considering how angry she’d been with me over the last few weeks. It felt like a tiny victory for me.

I cleaned the water from the floor while she and Brian went upstairs to change out of their soaked clothes, and then I got to work on the dishwasher.

BOOK: Black Sheep
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