Bitter

forty-three - lydia

It was like a nightmare come true. West Haley was sauntering down the aisle in a suit (he looked just like his dad now) between the church pews and by the looks of everyone around, no one had been expecting Stephen Haley's son to be at the funeral. The Haleys usually didn't bother going anywhere unless it had something to do with Mr. Haley's business.

Mom stiffened beside me and I knew she saw West too. I'd told her a little bit about Wednesday night, but I left out some details, like how I was taken to what was left of Dad's house. Mom didn't need to be reminded of him anyway.

The night Cal brought me home, Mom had seen the cut on my palm and immediately transformed into a nurse, cleaning the wound and bandaging it up with some gauze that she'd searched all over the house for. The cut really wasn't that deep, but she acted like I'd been stabbed in the gut. I had to assure Mom about a thousand times that my hand was okay now and I had actually been the one who hurt myself accidentally. She had ignored me though and called up West's dad (it was midnight then) and though he didn't pick up, she left a message that firmly explained she needed to speak with him as soon as possible about his son and his unforgivable actions that occurred that night. I guess they'd had that talk yesterday when I'd been at school, but she never told me how it went and what Mr. Haley had said. She did have an idea about getting a restraining order against West and that sounded pretty nice.

Now, Mom and I were both watching West striding in Cal's direction. He was almost to him, and then he reached him but he didn't stop there. West kept walking, right past Cal and was standing before Jason's parents. I could hear his voice over the low murmur that had settled within the church. "My condolences to you both," he said, bowing his head once. He looked serious, like he meant those words he spoke. Then he leaned closer to them and the three of them were engaged in a hushed conversation. Jason's dad put a hand on West's shoulder and Jason's mom covered her face a little, sniffling as tears escaped her eyes again. Whatever West was telling them, they were grateful to hear it. They were drinking up his poisonous lies, just like Jason had done.

Stephen Haley stood not too far away from his son, hidden a bit by a group of people. His eyes followed West's every movement and I could only guess he was waiting for the moment his son would step out of line. At least that was definitely how it appeared, especially if he and Mom had talked about West's behavior already. I knew West's dad didn't actually care if Mom was upset. He cared about the possibility of his only child making him look bad, ruining his image. He even stayed with Melanie, his wife, even after she'd cheated on him countless times, pretending like everything was alright with their family.

   Mr. Haley's gaze was glued to West which was good because that meant West couldn't do anything to hurt me. He was currently being monitored and that also meant I could slip away from all the people and get some fresh air outside alone. I let Mom know where I was going and though I could see she didn't want me leaving the room, she let me go anyway, probably knowing I was uncomfortable and needed to put more distance between myself and West. Whenever I'd get just a couple feet closer to him, panic from Wednesday night would rush back over me and my heart would stutter in my chest. If it wasn't obvious enough already, I was no longer going to homecoming with him.

   After I briefly ran into Meg on my way to the doors and was wrapped in a hug, I exited the church and descended down the steps, inhaling deeply and feeling the cold air fill my lungs. I could breathe now. Finally. I couldn't watch another second of Jason's parents crying and remembering their son knowing what I knew about his death. Who'd been behind it. The very person that was standing in front of them, talking to them, comforting them. It made me sick.

   I walked over to a bench placed near a row of trees, burning red in the sunlight spilling over the graveyard. Sinking down onto it, I sighed and felt the autumn breeze blow through my hair softly. I looked down at my hand in my lap, turning it over to examine my bandaged palm. It didn't hurt too bad but if I had to write anything, like for homework, it was impossible to do without feeling a jolt of pain shoot up my arm.

I turned my palm back over and just after that, I heard leaves crunching under shoes and I looked up to my right. Cal was walking over to me, so I turned my attention to the headstones across the path in front of me. He sat down on the other side of the bench and blew out a breath. "Did you see him in there?" his voice rose up from the graveyard.

Glancing at him, I nodded. "Yeah," I answered. There was only one person in that church Cal could be talking about.

Cal swore and shook his head. "He could say anything and they'd believe him," he muttered. "It's just so... I don't know. Annoying."

   "Scary," I added, looking over at him just as he looked at me. Something like confusion flashed in his eyes and he saw my injured hand that I was running my fingers over carefully.

   "How is it?" Cal asked then. I had to admit, that caught me off guard a bit.

   I stared down at my palm. "It's okay," I replied.

   "Were the napkins not good enough?" he questioned, and I looked up quickly. Was he being serious? He didn't actually think those napkins he'd given for my cut were going to—

   But then I saw his line of a mouth grow into a small smile on his face and I realized Cal was joking. With me. I felt myself smile too and tore my eyes away from him. There was a beat of silence, only the rustling of leaves being picked up in a mini tornado reaching our ears. "My dad's old house. That was the address I texted you," I told him quietly. I looked back at him, smile gone. "He was going to kill me in it."

Cal just stared at me, then instantly got to his feet and mumbled something. He turned to head back towards the church, but I grabbed his arm before he could do anything. "Wait. What are you doing?" I asked. If I could prevent another fight from breaking out (especially one at someone's funeral), I would try my best to.

Cal paused, glanced back at the church as if reconsidering something, then sank back down onto the bench with a defeated sigh. "Nothing," he said as I let his arm go when I knew he wouldn't go after West. Then he turned to me. "Why did he bring you there? To your dad's house?"

I looked back at the church, hoping he wouldn't notice how I was shifting uncomfortably, avoiding his gaze. "I don't know," I lied, then smoothly changed the subject. "And I don't know what else West is planning, but we can't just go after him in front of everyone. It'll make us look crazy," I reasoned, while Cal just listened (I hoped that was what he was doing) and crossed his arms, slumping on the bench. "Everyone thinks West is normal. They don't know what he's capable of."

Cal nodded slowly, eyes trained on the graveyard across from us and the bench. The setting sun was also a tiny sliver now, shining in our eyes and making Cal's usually dark brown hair appear a glowing crimson. "Yeah," Cal said to the sun, "I guess you're right."

I looked over at the graveyard then too, feeling the weight of the day lift from my shoulders. I would thank Mom later for keeping me home from school today because if I had gone, I probably would've collapsed or something.

   "Hey," Cal's voice sliced into my thoughts. I turned and saw him reaching for my uninjured hand. I couldn't move then so I let him take it and like he'd done at the playground the night of Jason's party, he turned my palm up and dropped a phone into it. My phone. "I thought you might want this," he said, "I went back to that place after school yesterday and was going to give it you, but I didn't see you at school today."

   "Oh," was all I could say. I tried turning it on, but the screen remained dark and lifeless. I didn't really care about that right now though. "Thank you," I managed, looking back up at Cal. "How did you find it?"

   Cal shrugged and crossed his arms again, facing the sunset. "You told me West threw it in the water, so I just looked around that creek that was like, kind of close to the houses," he explained.

I didn't know what to feel. I was confused (why would Cal Warrick do anything for me?), but I was also extremely grateful. "I..." I could barely speak, "thank you. Really. I mean it."

That was when he looked back over at me, brown eyes filled with something (or maybe I was imagining it) that I couldn't quite place. I couldn't help but think about how this was the same boy who made my life, up until very recently, miserable. How?

"It's just a phone," Cal returned with another shrug. Then he watched the last burning rays of the sun sink below the horizon and I thought I saw him try to hide another smile. "But you're welcome," he continued.