Dangerous Lies

chapter 8

I spent the night sleeping in the cemetery as creepy as that seems. There is a little cottage there that used to belong to the grounds keeper once upon a time. It had a bathroom and working plumbing. It was good enough. I'd spent nights on park benches, dark alleys, old parks and other places I don’t care to admit just for a break from the torture, just a break from the memories and the heartache. Let’s just say most of those nights were spent with heavy doses of alcohol.  

I spent the week off school recovering and getting trashed. I'd visited Jace once, hid out and didn’t see anyone. I barely ate; not that I had much choice and when I did manage to force food into my body, if I forced down more than a few bites I was retching my guts up.

By the time the school was opened I'd lost noticeable amounts of weight, enough to drain the color from my face, make my clothes hang looser. Sleep and I have had a rocky relationship for a while now but things have gotten noticeably worse in that area. I've gone three days without a wink of sleep and then when I finally crashed because of exhaustion I didn’t sleep more than a few hours and then I was awake until my body gave out again. My nightmares have been worse and I've run longer and harder than I ever had. I am starting to closely resemble a skeleton with skin. I didn’t know how much I'd lost but I was literally looking like a sexy zombie. That’s saying something. No zombie is sexy. They’re the walking dead for gods’ sakes and putting the sexy in front of zombie isn't much of an up.

I could put my new state up to a few things.

The letter and the summons to court; therefore forcing me to see a man I truly and fully fear, love and hate at  the same time.

The shooting and seeing Shawn like I did; not to mention the fact that he doesn’t seem to want to leave me alone…even if that’s what I so need right now. Space and time.

The drama with my mother and the blow up at her house definitely was the icing to my cake.

So much stress and fear and bloody confusion are not good for my head. By the time I actually showed up in school Monday morning everyone stared. Openly gawking and no one approached me. Not even the Q crew. It felt like the gangs and the staff and the rest of the student body decided I needed a break. The classes dragged on. By lunch I sat by my locker, hoping to avoid everyone.

I do notice the Romero gang members standing in a cluster at the end of the hall watching me. Shawn, Haven, Jenny, Rina and Lucy among the group looking as if they wanted to come over and force food down my throat. But as I noticed earlier, it was if people thought I needed time off.

Well, all accept one. Monica came slumping down the halls, looking no better than I do. Her eyes look hollow and sleep deprived. She’s dressed in sweats and everyone gave her a wide berth as they had been doing for me all day. She slides down the lockers and plops down beside me.

“Dad left last night.” Her eyes are red and puffy. “He called me just now and told me he would be away for a while, needing to clear his head.” he just left his kids with that woman? Is he dumb?

Out of the corner of my eye I noticed Shawn, Rina and the others crossing their arms looking rather ticked off.  “Mom is acting like everything is normal. She asked me about the cheerleading tryouts we held last week before the shooting. Every time the twins ask where you are she just pretends you don’t exist.” her eyes tear up again and I freeze. I grew up surrounded by boys. Tears were a sign of weakness and I learned to hold back my tears or to fight instead of cry. I don’t know how to deal with this kind of thing. I've known all along what my mother was. Did I feel bad for tearing their perfect family apart? No, because it is better for them in the long run. Who knows what kind of people they’ll turn out to be? Last thing they need is for her to tear them down before she skips town again.