Fragments (14 page)

“Of course I would have.” I spoke softly.  “You’re my family.”  

“Oh, please,” she spat. “I am not your family.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. It felt like she had grabbed a chair and beaten my chest in with it.

“I’m not your family? You know what? Whatever. I know you’re hurt, but it’s not my fault. You were stupid for not saying anything.”

“Well, you broke my heart the second you touched her.”

I flinched as she froze at her words.

“What did you just say?” I whispered.

“Noth … Nothi … Never mind. It doesn’t matter,” she stuttered. “We were close and I felt betrayed, okay?” She looked at her wrist. “Oh look, your time is up. Can you please leave?”

I clenched my fists at my sides, bursting to reach out and touch her.
Does she feel something for me? How can I have broken her heart?
I was desperate to ask her, but the words got stuck in my throat. My mind was reeling at her dismissal. I didn’t want to leave. She could build this wall around her, but I would happily smash it down.

              “Don’t you dare push me away, Bea,” I warned.

She jumped off her bed and pointed to the door. “The last time I told you to leave me alone, I got this! I don’t think we should hang out so much. I’m … just … shit!” She pointed to her wrist. “Now, will you just fuck off?” She turned and crossed her arms. Bea rarely swore around me, and swearing at me meant she was furious.

This was not over. There was no way she was going to shut me out.

“I will see you next Sunday for our run. I’ll leave you alone—until then.”

She sneered at my comment and walked even further away. I walked out of her room to where Robbie was leaning against the wall.

“This is a hell of a mess,” he said. “You know she doesn’t run on Sundays anymore, right?”

“Oh, she’ll be running all right. Even if she ignores me the whole time. I’m getting it back. I may be a fuck up, but I’ll work to get her to trust me again.” 

I headed for the stairs and started shuffling down them. Feli was on her way up to see Bea, her footsteps stomping harder than normal. She was not happy. Gazing at me as I passed, she nodded but didn’t say a word. I nodded and kept going. As I reached the back door, I heard her break her silence in a glowering screech, “What do you mean she cut your wrist? She was just in my house! Oh no you don’t. Explain.
Adesso!
”

Walking outside, I could still hear faint voices. Amongst them, I heard,
Nonna’s coming
and immediately thought,
uh-oh.
Feli’s mother was ferocious
.
If Feli was the matriarch then Nonna was the queen. She’d also donated to the school in the past, and liked to use it to be on the school panel. Whatever transpired on Monday, if Nonna was coming, those girls were fucked. She lived an hour away and usually visited them once a month. Summoning her now, meant business.

             
Stepping out into her yard, my shoes kicked the dirt. What a shitty morning. Bea’s window was visible, with Bea herself and her mother standing close by her. Her mother had Bea’s injured wrist in her arm and was examining it. I didn’t need to hear what they were saying to know what they were feeling. Her mother’s lips pressed together as she stared at the cut. Bea was gesturing frantically with her other arm, as her face reddened from the stream of tears that trailed down her face.
Oh Bea, please don’t cry
. I clenched my eyes in frustration. With a growl, I focused on my shoes, taking deep breaths. I wouldn’t look up again. If I did—I would be going up there. With another almighty kick, I ran towards my house as the dirt flew up and collected in the breeze.

              I neared my house but decided to go for a run instead. I wasn’t ready to deal with my parents today. I had missed them both this morning and that was fine by me.  I headed towards the old gumtree that Bea and I used to run to. My feet pounded into the dirt, and I couldn’t get her angry face out of my mind. No wonder she’d ignored me.
Head slammed into a locker?
Who in the hell does that? I had unintentionally dated the worst bitch in the school.

              The drumming of The Foo Fighters’ “This is a Call” began blaring from my pocket. I slowed down and reached in and retrieved it, my skin heating when I saw “Stacey” on the screen.
What in the hell does this bitch want?
I pressed the
answer
button and held it up to my ear. Before I could tell her to piss off, she cut me off.

              “Oh, my God! Alex! I’m so glad you picked up, baby.” I rolled my eyes as her syrupy voice as it poured into my ear. “Baby, I’m sorry I left angry. I need to explain. If you just—”

              “Look bitch,” I snarled. “You’ve got nothing to say that I want to hear. If you think—”

              “But baby, we’re so good together,” she whined. This girl was delusional.

              “Stacey, I’m going to tell you this once, and once only. If you
ever
try to contact me again, I

will hold you down and give Trice the compass and let her do to you what you did to her. I’ll get her to finish what you
started
.” She gasped as I continued. “You never meant
anything
to me. You were a cheap fuck. You will always be a cheap fuck. You will die a cheap fuck.” I ended the call and clutched my phone.  The urge to throw it was overwhelming, but I drew my arm back, shaking my head. If only footy was on today, I could have pummelled some heads. With a frustrated groan, I jogged back home.

              The house was quiet when I entered. Right now, I just wanted to be alone. Heading from the fridge, I grabbed the water jug and drank from it, not caring if my dad spotted me. Putting it back on the shelf, my mother’s giggle was heard from the back of the hall. I couldn’t remember the last time I saw her happy. The shuffle of footsteps sounded down the hall as her giggling got closer. 

              “Oh, Alex!” She smiled, rounding the corner and adjusting an earring. “So nice to see you.” I wrinkled my nose at her enthusiasm.
              “Yeah, hey Mum.” She reached into the fridge and started getting out lunch meat. “You hungry, love? I might whip up some toasted sandwiches before I go.”
              “Sure,” I answered. “Why not?” Grabbing two plates, I helped her butter the bread while she cut up the cheese and ham. As the sandwiches toasted, she hummed softly while waiting for them to cook. Her hair was styled and she smelt of that perfume Dad got her once. The one that made my nose sting. This was so out of character for her.

Once the sandwiches were ready, we headed to the kitchen table to eat.

              “You’re chipper today,” I mused.

              “I’m just excited, that’s all.” I studied her face. Her eyes were bright for a change.

              “Excited? What for? Is that a new dress?” I took a bite of my toasted sandwich and wiped the melted cheese off my bottom lip. She wiggled excitedly in her seat and tapped her fingers on the table.

              “Well—” she giggled, flicking her collar, “—I got this a long time ago and I was waiting for a special occasion to wear it. Finally, I have one. Your father is taking me to ... Sydney!” I sat still as the last bite of my toasted sandwich rolled down my throat like a lead ball. 
              “What?” I coughed, clearing my throat.

              “I’m taking your mother to Sydney.” My father’s footsteps stopped behind me. I hadn’t even heard him approach. “We haven’t had any time alone together and I thought I would spoil my lady. We leave this afternoon for four days.”  My father squeezed my shoulder harder than necessary as he passed me. “Here.” He reached into his wallet and took out $150. “You will need to get dinner while we’re away. Oh, these sandwiches look wonderful, Meg.” He plated his lunch and sat down across from my mother. Both my parents smiled at each other, while I was left with the taste of bile in my throat. This was obviously another one of
those
trips. How I had not lost my lunch on the floor was a miracle.

              “Well, that’s good to hear.” I grabbed my plate and headed for the sink. I washed the plate quickly and gave them a tight smile, avoiding eye contact. “Have fun!”  Leaving them to their giggles, I headed straight to my room.

              I locked my door and turned on my stereo, I was in the mood for some loathing. Rotating the multidisc, I selected Rod Zombie’s
Astro-Creep,
and reached under my bed for the hidden bottle of my father’s Wild Turkey. It was my shitty attempt at keeping some alcohol out of his hands. I twisted the cap off and put the bottle to my lips, preparing myself for the path to self-destruction. 

              I picked up my foam football and began to toss it up and down in the air. I pressed the bottle to my lips and sucked back another gulp. The whiskey burned as it tore down my throat and wrestled with my insides. 

              “Bye Alex,” my mother shouted through the door. “We’ll see you Thursday.”

              “Yeah, see ya,” I shouted, giving the door the bird. I gargled another mouthful of bourbon. I really should have mixed this with Coke, but I couldn’t be bothered.

Rod Zombie’s voice filled the room and my head banged while I sung the lyrics. When my mum was this happy, it pissed me off.  He’d bought her over, again. With that thought, I took another swig and felt the effects of the alcohol sending tingles across my skin. Another trip, another injury paid for. What did he do last time? I ground my teeth as I blocked that night out.
I want to feel numb.
The tingles continued to crawl up my skin. Mission accomplished.

That was it. I’d decided. Back to meaningless sex. Or sex without a girlfriend tag attached. I swung again, sending the amber liquid down. My mouth burned. I studied the label closely.
How can people drink this shit?

Girlfriends were too much hard work, or better yet, conniving lying bitches. And friends who were girls? Girls you’d known forever? Well fuck—they were even worse. Gripping the football, I squeezed it until my hand whitened and let it go. I watched it fall to the floor. I smacked my lips together as they numbed. Girls. Friends. You trust the ones you hung out with, and then they dropped you like a sack of shit. Giving you the freeze out. Bring back the easy lays. 

              My vision blurred as the posters on my wall went out of focus. I lifted the bottle and inspected it. Half empty.
That was quick
. Shrugging, I took another swig and tried to focus on my posters.
Dad was gonna be pissed that I nicked his bottle
. I nodded and chuckled. It would be great to piss him off.
No, Alex, it would not
. My fuckin’ conscience had decided to join in. Piss off, conscience.

              I stared into space as images of Bea began flicking through my mind. Her tear-stained face, her angry eyes in her room, her being thrown into a locker, her long legs … argh! I shook my head, but it did nothing to curb her face from haunting me. Now her bright blue eyes were dull and her smile—cracked. Her skin became pale as her hair hung limply to the side. She’d changed. She was broken. I wasn’t there. I wasn’t
there.
I couldn’t keep her safe.

The room spun and I struggled to focus.
Where was I, again?
I tipped my chin against my chest as I rocked back and forth. My mouth opened as the colours of my carpet combined in a putrid mess. My arms flailed out as my balance wobbled, my feet suddenly flicked out in front and I crashed face down on my bed. The bottle rolled just past me to the other side, leaving me exhausted, sick, and passed out with dreams of a sad blue-eyed girl whose trust I had destroyed. 

“As I sowed straw so I must reap it now:

O human race, why do you set your hearts

On benefits which cannot be shared with others?”

Purgatory XIV;
lines 85–88

Trice

Once Alex left, I was automatically on the receiving end of pitying looks from my mamma. She tenderly inspected my wrist while uttering very soft curse words. She went from being enraged, to the discovery of my bullying to now treating me like a victim. I was an emotional wreck. 

“Why did you not tell us?” Mamma questioned. “Are you so ashamed for us to know? What did we do?”

Gazing into my mother’s eyes, the silent tears trekked down my cheeks.

“No, Mamma. I was afraid of the backlash. I was afraid that it would be worse.”

Sobbing, I hunched over and was soon gathered into her arms. She stroked my hair down my back while gripping me tightly,

“Oh,
cara mia
—I cannot believe they did this to you.”

Nudging me to sit up, she cradled my face in her hands and looked into my wet eyes. Sad, sympathetic concern replaced her usually strong demeanour.