When it hurts (ongoing)

Chapter six

"Piss off".
Jackson storms forward, throwing a basketball at Issac's chest with so much force Issac stumbles backwards, catching the ball.
Issac shakes his head, a mocking laugh "trust me when I say I don't like you either. But if we are going to play alongside each other on court, we need to leave our issues in the past".
I tiptoe further into the basketball arena, trying to hear their conversation as best as I can.
Jackson smiles, but it's unpleasant "you lost the right to my sportsmanship when you kissed my girlfriend".
I gasp, clamping my hand over my mouth. The boys both spin around, when they don't see anyone they resume their confrontation.
"Is that what this is about?" Issac says "Is that why you've suddenly shown such an interest in Nora? To get back at me?".
His hands grip the ball tighter and I can tell he's trying to restrain his anger. Jackson sucks in a breath, I've never seen him so angry.
It scares me a little.
"Don't you dare bring Nora into this! My feelings for Nora are genuine and not something for you to be questioning me about just to mess with my performance! Are you kidding me?"
Issac laughs, stepping into Jackson's face and lowering his voice "I really don't care how you play. I don't care if you fall and break all the bones in your body. I don't care if you drop dead in the middle of the court".
He throws the basketball at Jackson chest, the same way Jackson had done earlier. Jackson steps back, catching the ball and recovering quickly.
Issac steps around him, walking off the basketball court, this time his voice is loud and clear.
"Stay the hell away from my sister".

"Nora" I'm snapped out of my distant memory to see Jackson's eyes swimming with concern.
He reaches over the table, resting his hand on top of mine "Nora are you okay?"
I shake my head, attempting to smile "yes. yes I'm fine" I pick up my fork, encouraging him on "what were you saying?"
Jackson smiles, continuing the funny story he'd promised me, although it lacks the humour. Just when I think there may be a chance I can sit through this, my head starts to pound.
I reach over the table, clamping my hand over his "Do you think you could drive me home?"
Jackson trails off his story, frowning "Now? You want to go home now? I haven't finished my story".
I smile apologetically "I'm sorry, I've just got a horrible headache".
He forces a smile "I guess".
He raises his hand in the air, calling the waiter over. Once we've split the bill, we stand. I wipe my dress down, picking up my handbag and placing it over my shoulder. Jackson reaches for me, I place my hand in his and we begin to walk out.
That's when I feel it
He's here
Two familiar blue eyes watch my every move. I look around the restaurant like a lost puppy, desperately trying to find his gaze. I catch his stare, he's sitting at the bar and swirling a drink around in his hand. His back is to the bar, he sits in his seat, facing me.
He's dressed professionally, well put together - a black suite. Carter joins him, sitting down the way you are supposed to face - his back to me-and orders a drink. He is also dressed in a suite, although his is a dark blue.
I'm starting to think the two of them are joined at the hip
Our eyes don't leave each other as he brings his drink to his lips and takes a careful sip.
I lean into Jackson and squeeze his hand, scared that with Austin's stare and the heels I'm wearing that I will fall over. Jackson doesn't notice Austin and Carter. Even though Austin's eyes never leave me, even as the door closes behind Jackson and I.

                                                                         *****

I step out the bathroom, wiping toothpaste from the side of my mouth. I straighten my pyjamas, starting towards my bedroom. I hear it then, the hear-wrenching sobs coming from the living room. I freeze, looking towards the staircase. Curiosity takes me down the stairs. When I make it to the living room, shock pins me to the door frame. My mother is there, curled into herself in front of the fire, her body rocks back and forth, shaking with her cries. The fire illuminates the dark room, the only light that allows me to make out her figure. I swallow, stepping towards her I see the pictures of Issac scattered all over the floor in front of her. My heart contracts, the guilt of the words id said to her the other day ripping me open, I was too oblivious to her silent suffrage.
"It would break his heart to see how little you care".
I fall to my knees beside her, pulling her body to rest against my chest.
"It's ok mom" I run a soothing hand up and down her back, resting my head on top of hers "it's ok".
"It should have been you" she sobs "I wish it was you".
I wait for it to strike me, to slap me across the face. If I thought I was going numb before I was wrong. I've never felt a pain like this, it tears my chest open. Punchers my heart. I wait for her to apologise, to take back the words that are already permanently engraved into my mind. But she doesn't. Instead, she goes limb in my arms, snoring softly.
My mother wishes I was dead
I encourage her body off the floor, trying to persuade her to stand. She eventually balances on her feet, leaning her body weight onto me. I push her back against the couch, placing a blanket over her unconscious body. I move her hair out of her face, kissing her forehead. I walk to the open door, switching the light off and looking back at my mother resting in the dark.
The daughter she never wanted
"Goodnight mom".