Clash
Authors: C.A. Harms
Clash
By C.A. Harms
C
lash
Copyright © 2016 by C.A. Harms.
All rights reserved.
First Print Edition: April 2016
Limitless Publishing, LLC
Kailua, HI 96734
Formatting: Limitless Publishing
ISBN-13: 978-1-68058-586-5
ISBN-10: 1-68058-586-X
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.
Dedication
To anyone who has ever suffered any form of abuse—whether physical or emotional—you are strong. You are worth more than what you are given and it is time for you to fight back. Fight for what you deserve.
Payton
I was eleven years old when Maggie, my mother, left. Just packed her bags and walked away. She just couldn't deal with it anymore; the hate and anger was all too much. But there was something I would never understand. Why did she choose to leave me behind? It was something I often wondered.
That was seven years ago.
Seven long years of dealing with the backlash of her absence. My father had always been a broody, irritable man—extremely unapproachable. I guess that was one of the reasons my mother chose to leave. That, and the fact he was a heavy drinker. Alcohol, to him, was like breathing; it was something his body had to have to survive. His perpetual intoxication almost always led to a fight between them—a physical fight full of anger. For days I would see the marks of those disagreements gracing my mother’s beautiful face. He tore her down whenever and however he could. I remember lying in bed at night wishing I could stop him, hoping for someone, anyone, to take my mother and me away to safety.
At all costs I found myself doing whatever I could to avoid him. Though he never lay a hand on me before Maggie left, things changed afterward. He became even angrier and more violent; I never even thought that was possible. Those nights of terror I used to listen to my mother live through now became my own.
It didn’t matter what I did or how much I abandoned, in his eyes I still screwed everything up. He blamed me for all that was wrong in his life; it all fell at my feet.
Soon it would all be over; I had plans. All I had to do was finish these last few months of school and I could escape forever. No matter what it took, or how many jobs I had to work, I would be rid of John Walters.
It was finally my senior year, something I looked forward to for years. I worked hard to get where I was. Good grades and high honors, but there was no one to be proud of me but myself—and my best friend Casey. She was the only person I could count on. She was my breath of fresh air, my savior from the hell in which I was left to live. Without her, I'm not sure I would have made it to this point.
As I walked toward my locker, I fought back the rush of anxiety I felt. I hated how I allowed John to get inside my head, letting him consume my thoughts and make me feel as if the words he spoke were true. Even this morning as I walked toward the front door to leave, he made sure he didn’t miss an opportunity to tear me down. “Dressed like a fucking sleaze, you look just like that bitch of a mother of yours.”
My stomach still knotted as I tugged at the hem of my shirt. I owned nothing that anyone could consider sleazy; honestly, I looked more like a homeless kid. He rarely bought me anything, and with as many hours as I put in to my education, it would be almost impossible to work my own job right now.
The mental abuse became part of my day. It felt almost routine, just like saying hello or goodbye. If he didn’t take every opportunity he had to be mean, things wouldn’t feel normal. How sad was that?
“Payton.” I heard a familiar voice behind me call out my name.
I turned around and arched an eyebrow at Casey. Unlike me, Casey dressed to impress. Or to attract, as some people put it. She wore as little as the dress code would allow. She was my polar opposite, but I loved her to death.
She stepped up in front of me and began adjusting my shirt. I slapped her hands away to make her stop, but she just offered a smile and rolled her eyes. “Hey, I called you last night. Did the asshole tell you?” Casey knew how John was and she hated him almost as much as I did.
“What do you think?” Trying to reach me at home was a waste of time. Unless I was home alone or could get the phone before he did, I would never know someone called.
It was one of the reasons I chose to spend most of my time at Casey’s. I felt safe there, something I never felt at John’s.
The best part about being at Casey’s was her older brother, Dylan; he was a nice distraction. He still lived at home, but when he wasn’t at school, he spent most of his free time either working or with his friends.
I personally enjoyed when he chose to stay home; those were my favorite times. There was nothing wrong with getting lost in a hot fantasy about Dylan. Not in my eyes, anyway. Casey probably felt slightly different.
His rugged good looks and even his cocky attitude drew me in. I think I had been infatuated with Dylan since the time he punched the neighbor boy for pushing me down in the driveway. Afterward, he picked me up and carried me inside, placing one of his younger brother’s Batman Band-Aids on my knee. I had long forgotten about the pain in my knee once I was in his arms. But I was always that little girl who hung around the house with his sister. As we grew older that hadn’t changed much. I had been placed in a category I so desperately wanted to grow out of.
But a guy like Dylan didn’t look at a girl like me, at least not the way I hoped he would. Six feet tall and naturally tan, with broad shoulders and a lean waist, his looks could make a girl feel stupid. I don’t know how many times I was caught staring.
“Hello, is anybody in there?” Casey asked as she pretended to knock on my forehead.
“Yeah, smartass,” I said as I pushed against her shoulder, gaining some space. “I just got a little distracted.”
“Please tell me your little time warp has nothing to do with my brother and we can continue our day in peace?” Her eyes pleaded for me to tell her it wasn’t Dylan on my mind.
When I just looked at her without speaking a word, a small smile pulling at the corner of my lips, she knew the answer was not what she wanted to hear. “Really, Payton, why don’t you just go ahead and tell him you like him?” she groaned in such a frustrated tone. “You've been drooling over him since we were thirteen. Don’t you think it is time to say something to him?"
“Sure, Case, let me just walk right up to your twenty-one-year-old brother and throw myself at him. Would that make you feel better?” I said sarcastically. “You can sit back and get a good laugh.”
“I think you are being more than a little dramatic. I never said throw yourself at him. But telling him you are attracted to him does sound more reasonable.” I closed my locker and turned to face her. “Seriously, Payton, you need to say something or move on. Shit or get off the pot, girl.”
“Gross,” I said as I crinkled my nose in disgust.
“What?” she shrugged like what she said was not completely vile. “I’m just saying you are a fucking knockout. Well, I mean with the right clothes, because frankly—these do nothing for your figure.” She once again pulled at my baggy t-shirt and worn jeans.
“Dylan would be a fool not to notice how amazing you are,” she added as we reached the end of the hall where I went left and she went right. “I’ll see you at lunch.” She gave a slight wave as she turned down the other hall, her mid-thigh skirt showing off her long, slender legs. Once again I looked down at my clothes and let out a frustrated breath. My stomach flipped at the idea of Dylan knowing how I felt. The fear of complete humiliation stopped me in my tracks every time I considered saying anything to him.
***
Our day ended just like any other—I ended up at Casey’s.
As we walked in, Karen, Casey’s mom, was running around the house in a rush. Karen had taken on a lot after Casey’s father passed away over five years ago from a massive heart attack. She is a nurse at the local hospital here in Springfield and worked, in my opinion, more hours than she should. On top of all those hours, she always found time to cook, clean, and make sure her three children had everything they needed. She also opened her home to me, never once making me feel unwelcome.
“Hi, girls,” Karen yelled over her shoulder as she continued to check dinner in the oven.
“Hey, Mom, what’s for dinner?” Casey asked as we walked by.
“Roast, but you girls are going to have to finish things and clean up after,” Karen explained as she placed the foil back over the roast and closed the oven door. “I have to cover a shift at the hospital tonight. And I’m running late.”
Before Casey could argue with her mother, I responded quickly, “Sure we can. It’s not a problem.” From the corner of my eye I could see Casey glaring at me. She really had no idea how good she had it. If she had to live in the shoes of someone less fortunate for only one day, she would be truly grateful for what she had.
I followed Casey down the hallway toward her bedroom as her shoulders sagged in irritation. She could be such a brat sometimes. I was just about to call her out on it when I looked up just as Carter smiled wide. “Hey there, sexy,” he winked, and I couldn’t help but laugh. He was such a cutie and he knew it. I could see a lot of hearts left broken by Casey’s youngest brother.
Casey kept walking, shooting him a nasty glare. “Shut up, Carter, you’re such a dork.”
He turned back toward his PlayStation and began playing once again as if her comment meant very little.
“I was talking to Payton, not you,” he added in a mumble.
I hated the way Casey treated Carter. After all, he meant no harm and truly was a sweet kid.
“Thanks, Carter,” I said. He looked back over his shoulder and smiled brightly.
“No problem, your ass looks great in those jeans.” He smirked and my mouth fell open in surprise. I hadn’t expected that, but I shouldn’t have been surprised. He was related to Dylan.
I turned around with my mouth still hanging open and found Dylan leaning against the wall only a few feet away. His gaze had been focused down low then shifted upward with my abrupt turn.
“He’s right, you know—those jeans make your ass look really good.” Double whammy. I had no words. Carter just shocked me, but with Dylan’s confirmation, I felt my face heat with embarrassment.
On occasion, Dylan would offer me a small flirtatious gesture but never anything big. Today his eyes roamed over my body from head to toe, and I was stunned stupid.
Casey was already in her room, but when she saw I hadn’t followed she grew even more irritated. “Jesus, Payton, close your mouth before you catch a fly in that thing.” She stepped into the doorway and looked over at Dylan. “And you stop drooling over my best friend, you hooker.”
As she yanked me inside, she closed the door behind her and asked, “What the hell were you doing?”
“Every time he flirts I clam up. He must think I’m a freak.” It hit me then just how lame I acted. Instead of flirting back, I stood there like some weird mute with my mouth hanging open.
“You’re not exactly experienced when it comes to the opposite sex, Payton. It’s understandable.” Casey began pulling off her skirt, putting a pair of jean shorts on in its place. “I mean, come on—you’ve kissed two guys your entire life, and the first one didn’t even really count. Jake was a slobbering dope your freshmen year, and it was a dare. It lasted, what—two seconds? Then there was Matt your junior year at Homecoming.”
It was true my experience level was much lower than Casey’s, but I was just not that confident. Sure, it was easy with Carter—he’s a kid and I had nothing to lose. When it came to guys my own age or older, I just froze. Dylan—he was a whole other story. I had liked him since before I could remember, and he truly made my brain lapse completely.
Even if I wanted to date, John would not allow it. He always made comments saying no guy would be dumb enough to get wrapped up with someone like me. He had done some real damage to my self-esteem.
Casey had so much more freedom than I did. She had been dating Seth for over a year and lost her virginity to him within the first six months. She was always telling me to just find a guy and get it over with. Just the idea of “getting it out of the way” gave me a panic attack; it meant more to me than that.
I spent more time criticizing myself than noticing whether anyone was looking at me. Why would a guy like me when there were so many better options? The idea seemed crazy and impossible.
I guess it was easier to just believe John’s words. I heard them enough, so why fight them?
