Recovery

Chapter 2

2 hours later he is still sitting at the bar, looking at his phone. Every waitress has been up to him, obviously for his looks, and he brushed them off, saying he's waiting for me. 

"Dude, clock out already, you're not gonna get paid overtime." Lauren whispers. "I'll clock out for you, go talk to him."

I get my things from my locker and walk to the seat next to him. "Table or booth?" I joke, he turns around.

"Booth?" He smiles.

We walk over to the booth he was sitting at. "So.." I want the awkward glances to stop.

I mess with the ends of my sleeves while he contemplates what to say. 

"Why don't you believe that I think you're beautiful?" He crosses his arms.

"Because I'm not." I shrug.

"But you are." he smiles. "You are gorgeous. I didn't know who you were, and when you walked up to seat me, I literally lost my breath, and I stayed here a while, just to see your sweet little smile, asking me 'if I needed anything else'." 

"Oh." I lower my head.

"And your name is Haley, that is the hottest name I have ever heard."

"Oh my god." I giggle. "What's your name?"

"Josh."

"Hello, Josh," I smile up at him, blushing a bit.

"Hello, Haley." He laughs. "May I have your phone number now?" 

"I don't know." 

"If not, I'm going to come here every night." He blushes. "Just to stare at you." 

"Sounds kind of stalkerish." I laugh. 

"True,"

"How old are you?" I question.

"18, I graduated early though."

"You live here?"

"Yeah, I graduated when I was 16, though."

I look up fast, "How?"

"I skipped a few grades." He announces, proud of himself. "How old are you?"

"17, I graduate in two months." I smile, happy to get away from school.

"Damn." He looks down slightly. "School, and work." 

"Yup, I have to have money for myself." I giggle, seriousness behind my voice, because he doesn't know my family situation. 

"I understand, but I don't really work."

"Why?"

"Parents."

"Oh." Lucky.

"Yup, so how about the number?" He pulls his phone out from his black pants and sets it on the table with the dial screen on.

I sigh. "Fine." I type in my number, and my name. "Even though you're probably playing me."

He stops and locks his phone. "Why the hell would you even think that?"

"Well.."

"I'm not like that, I promise you that. I would never hurt someone like that." He promises. 

My phone vibrates on the seat beside me. My dad's number appears on the screen. Shit.

"Hello?" I answer quietly and Josh looks at my questionably.

"Where the fuck are you?" He screams into the phone.

"At work." I say quietly.

"You're fucking schedule on the damn fridge says you would be off at nine!" 

I look at the time. it's 10:30.

"Someone called in, and I had to cover them." I lie.

"I swear to fucking god if you don't get home, I will beat the shit out of you." 

He hangs up. Shit. shit shit shit shit shit.

"I really need to go." I almost cry, standing up.

"Oh okay, I'll text you?" Josh worriedly smiles.

"Yeah that's fine." I rush

I take the long way home and walk through the door quietly, my dad sitting in the chair. Fuck. 

"What the hell? You think you can just run around the whole fucking town?" He screams, the smell of liquor is on his breath as he walks closer to me. 

I close the door, and try to walk around him. "Answer me you fucking whore!"

"I wasn't running around." I almost whisper.

He smacks me, and my head turns. I stare at the wall where my head stays.  "Don't you fucking lie to me, bitch!" He spits. 

I look down. "I'm not lying. I was working!" I lift the collar of my shirt to prove my point. 

He smacks my face the other way. "Shut the fuck up, don't you fucking yell at me!" 

I hold my cheek and try to contain my breathing before shoving him, and trying for my room, or the bathroom.

I feel glass on my head as I fall to the floor. I grab my head and turn over. "Fucking bitch." He calmly says. I bring my hand to see it, blood is on my hand, and I'm laying in broken glass. I try to stand and he kicks me. 

"Shit." I fall back, my hand landing in the glass. I almost cry, but he doesn't need to get the best of me.

"What the fuck?" He leans down, the brown covering his head leans forward, covering his forehead. "You think just because you have a fucking job, you can do what you want?" He chuckles. "Stop being a fucking bitch. "

I sigh, crawling away slightly and getting up. Going to the stairs. "That's right! Run away you fucking coward!" I hear another bottle shatter. 

I go into my room and turn the light on. I slide down the back of my door and start crying. I can't breath. I can't see, I cry. 

Finally when I hear snoring, I calm down, looking at my glass filled hand, and pick out the pieces with tweezers. Burning with each shred leaving my hand and wrist. Answer me you fucking whore. his words keep playing in my head. He knows damn well the only reason I'm not a virgin is because his brother raped me. Everyone, including my uncle, tells me I asked him to do it. I cringe at the thought. 

I cringe again, knowing that he will be here tomorrow, the day I have work off. 

I look out the door, snoring and the TV is all I can hear. I go downstairs and turn everything off, then go into the bathroom, and vomit. Crying, then vomiting. The endless cycle.