Chapter Four
“You like him ! You liiiike him !” My mother teased, dancing around me and poking me playfully. I laughed with her, not denying, but not agreeing. I knew she saw right through me though, my mom always knew things like that. Inside, my heart was screaming ‘Yes !’ But I simply rolled my eyes, pretending to be annoyed. Secretly though, I was glad to have such an accepting mom. Actually, both of my parents were really cool about the whole bisexual thing. My dad would point out hot girls for me, and my mom would point out hot guys. It was actually kind of funny, and nice the way my parents included me in their lives like that. They had both always been that type even before Tom passed, but since he was gone, I was all they had, so they paid extra attention to me. I was so grateful to have them, but often I felt awful that they got stuck with me.
If they ever found out that I self-harmed, they would be crushed. Beyond crushed…I know exactly what they would think- “I’ve already lost one son, I can’t lose another.” And that was why no one could know.
I headed up to my room, wondering what Jack would think or do if he ever found out. Most likely never speak to me again…he was too perfect, he would never stick around for some damaged boy like me. As I lay thinking about Jack, I couldn’t help but wonder if I’d even crossed his mind. I wondered what he thought of me..He seemed to like me, but I knew he didn’t like me the way I did him.
As I dressed for bed, I stopped for a moment with my shirt off, staring at myself in the mirror. Scars and cuts in various stages of healing littered my hips and lower stomach. I knew if I removed my boxers, my thighs would tell the same story, the story of a thousand lines criss-crossing one another in an almost delicate map. A few cuts lay on my wrists too, but only a few so that they weren't. noticeable. I sighed, how I wished I had never started this. Because now, it was damn near impossible to stop. Not even the imagined faces of my parents if they found out could persuade me to stop. No matter how wrong or how self-destructive cutting was, it still somehow made me feel better. Looking at my scars let me know that even after all this time fighting this battle, I was still winning, I was still here. I couldn’t let those scars go away, then how would I have proof of my fighting ? No way. My blade was my friend when no one else was…and as much as I hated to admit it, it was still one of my only friends.
I woke up on Tuesday morning actually looking forward to school, for one reason- Jack. I thought about stopping by his house to see if he wanted a ride, but I had no idea if he had his own car. I was much too chicken to text him to find out. I sucked it up and dressed extra nice for him, and drove to school alone. The day before, I had had to walk back up to school and drive my car home in the middle of the night, because, being the dumbass I am, I had gotten so caught up with walking home with Jack, I had forgotten that I had driven to school. Talk about stupid.
I waited around at our locker for him, but much to my disappointment, I never got to see him before first hour. During second hour, I asked him about it, ready to kick myself when he replied “Yea, I was late today because I have to walk.”
“How about I drive you from now on then ?” I smiled hopefully, and his answering smile was breathtaking, “Yea, that’d be great.”
I worried that I was being too pushy, but I figured he wouldn’t have invited me to his house and then agreed to come back to mine if he didn’t like my company. That was beyond pity even.
We were doing a lab together in third hour biology when it happened- the first time we ever touched. I don’t know how we had spent practically all day Monday together without even so much as an accidental brush, but I’m sure I would have noticed if we did. Because now, as our arms rubbed over one another as I leaned over to reach the beaker, tingles shot up my nerve endings and all down my spine. And it wasn’t the experiment that was causing it. Jack stopped and looked at me, and I’m sure I blushed at his gaze. I averted my eyes, rubbing my arm softly where his had touched it. I cleared my throat and continued working, unsure of what else to do.
Jack didn’t bring it up the whole rest of the day, and neither did I. he had to stay after for being late, so again, I drove home alone. At least I remembered my car though.
When I got home, my mom was busy unpacking, so I headed up to my room. I sat cross-legged on my floor, picking up my lyric book from under my bed. It was a worn blue notebook that meant everything to me. My heart and soul was poured into this thing, and no one has ever seen it besides me, not even Tom. My family knows I write lyrics, but they’ve only heard snippets of my happier songs, not my darker ones… I started writing down bits and pieces of a new song, and I couldn’t deny that it was about Jack. I felt happy in this little bubble of lyrics, wrapped up in thoughts of Jack. But then I accidently turned the page to my most personal song- Therapy.
The tear and blood stained pages containing that song instantly filled me with sorrow. The blood triggered me, and as much as I fought it, I ended up in the bathroom with my old friend the blade.
One line. That’s for missing Tom.
Another line, that’s for the guilt of doing this.
A third line- A knock at my door startled me, and the blade slipped, cutting deeper than I’d intended. It had been the door to my room that held the knocker, and so I called “Hold on a minute, I’m in the bathroom.” I hurriedly stowed the blade away and held my hip frantically, trying to stop the blood. I unlocked the bathroom door and rushed into my bedroom, kicking my lyric book under my bed just as my worried mother came through the door. “Alex honey ? Are you okay ?” I nodded, cringing at my awkward one hand on my hip position. Her eyes took in my stance questioningly. I casually removed my hand, avoiding glancing down so that maybe she wouldn’t notice if blood was seeping through. But of course, my observant mother’s eyes went right to the blood. “Alex, is your hip bleeding ?” I looked down, acting as if I just noticed it. “Uh, no, it’s my hand. Must be a paper cut or something. I’ll go clean this up…” I hurried to my bathroom, wondering if she actually bought that stupid excuse. She must have, because when I stepped back into my room, my mom was gone.
A fourth line for being stupid.
A fifth line, a little deeper just for discipline. ***It's not as much about Jack and Alex being together right now, because I need to establish their backgrounds and everything, so bear with me. Well I hope it's not too stupid and cliche and you guys don't hate me for it.
