Cherry

Chapter 30

Cherry

After Ethan and I's fiasco on the table, I immediately felt guilty afterward. I went straight to the kitchen to retrieve a warm wash rag soaked with soap and disinfectant. I scrubbed the table clean for I swear 10 minutes. I now start to think about how tomorrow the diner is going to be open, and probably busy, since that's always the case for Heaven's Diner. I just hope a nice family doesn't sit at the table where we had sex on. Hopefully, it's an old, nasty, homophobic guy. He'd deserve that.

I laugh to myself, and Ethan asks, "What's funny?"

"Oh, nothing," I look over at him as he drives us back home. "Just thinking about that one truck driver who gave me shit for having two moms earlier in the summer. You know, the one you punched?"

"Uh, yeah," he laughs. "I remember. Why exactly are you thinking about him?"

"I was just thinking about how funny it would be if tomorrow he had to sit at the table we fucked on," I snicker.

"About that," Ethan smiles and runs one hand through his hair nervously, steering the car with just one hand. "I swear I was going to be a gentleman and have sweet sex with you tonight. Since it's our last night together, and all."

"Did you not enjoy what we did?" Thinking back, maybe I shouldn't have been... so much.

"No, I loved it," he expresses. "I just wanted to make sure that you're okay with it."

I unbuckle my seatbelt and lean over the car's center console to plant a kiss on Ethan's cheek. "Thank you," I tell him. "I loved it, too. I will definitely remember this night forever. Not even just the sex, but the romantic dinner."

"Me too, Cherry," Ethan pulls into my driveway.

When he puts the car in park, I look at the time on my phone, which tells me that it's almost 11. "I know it's late, but I still haven't packed for tomorrow. Do you care to help me?"

***

Packing for San Fransisco only took a few hours. I didn't have anything to bring besides clothes, so packing oversized shirts and baggy pants didn't take up much time at all. I didn't even bother packing my crystal collection. If they got lost in carry-on I'd never forgive myself because I've been collecting them for years. I only packed a sketchbook and some other supplies, since the college usually supplies the students with canvases, paint, and such. Now, it's a little after midnight, and Ethan and I just finished having sex again. This time it was sweet and gentle. He took his time with me and roamed every inch of my body. He told me how much he loved me between each thrust he made. He told me how perfect I was with each kiss that he planted on my body.

Ethan's laying on his left side in bed, and so am I. He has his arms wrapped around me, as my back is pressed against him. We're both still naked from our sex because we were too exhausted afterward to get dressed. I think Ethan's asleep now, though, because the slow stroking of his thumb on my arm has stopped and his breathing sounds heavier. My eyes are becoming heavy, and I finally close them and see nothing but darkness.

***

"Do you really think Ethan loves you?" my mom asks as she hovers over me.

"I do," I tell her. "He told me he does-"

I'm cut off by my mom's hand sliding across my cheek so forcefully that I fall off the couch. I lie on my back, hold my cheek, and wince as my mom stares down at me, almost appearing to be a giant.

"You dumb girl!" she shouts so loud that my eardrums begin to vibrate and radiate the most excruciating pain I've ever felt. I try to cover my ears with my hands to tune her out, but there's no use. I can still hear her screaming over me.

She points her finger at me as she screams, "No one could ever love you! You are a humiliating, fucking mess. You ruined my life, and you ruin everyone's lives around you!"

I begin to sob so hard that it becomes hard to breathe. I'm choking on my tears, but my mom continues to shout, "You are going to ruin him like you ruined me, you piece of shit!"

She then crouches down to get on my level. "No wonder why Olive didn't want to date you. Ethan is going to realize you're not worth fighting for and leave your sorry ass like she did! Like I did! Dying is the best thing I've ever done," she winds up her hand like she's getting ready to lay another slap on me.

I jerk to miss her slap, but when I move, I open my eyes and realize I'm in my room. It's dark with the only light being from the moon. I look to my right and see Ethan sleeping peacefully, with his arm resting on my thigh. My sudden wake didn't disrupt his sleep, so I won't even bother waking him up. I mean, what is he going to do? Hold me and tell me everything is going to be okay like he always does? It makes me feel like a burden when he consoles me like that after every nightmare. He needs to remember the last night that we got to share together as romantic and fun, not ending with him holding me as I catch my breath from a stupid fucking nightmare.

The thought of painting the dream crosses my mind, like maybe a giant shadow hovering over a tiny girl would look good painted on a canvas. But, my nightmares continue to happen, so painting them in hopes of them never returning seems pointless. I've been doing it for a while now and have seen zero results. I'm starting to feel like absolutely nothing is going to help me. I'm a helpless cause.

Then, out of nowhere, I begin to cry. I cry because of the nightmare. I cry because of how angelic Ethan looks as he sleeps. I cry because he's too good for me. I cry because I'm frustrated that my birth mom would treat me in such a way. I cry because now it's three A.M., which means only a few more hours until I have to wake up and head to the airport. I cry because I'm angry at the world.

I lie back down on Ethan's chest and try my best to stay quiet as I cry. I try my best to not get his skin soaked from my tears. I try my best to quickly catch my tears with my hand before they fall on him.