Buddy Holly Keeps Me Sane

Chapter 3

In the next week, my injuries began healing. It appeared as though I would have faint scars on my arms, but it was still too early to tell. My bruises had gone from dark blue-purple to a sickening yellow. I've always hated this stage, because it makes them look uglier than before. Dad didn't come home this week, which was a blessing to me at first, but then I felt horrible for thinking that. He's still my father afterall, he loves me still. I have to believe that; if I don't...I just don't know.

Nick and Ryan made a habit out of sitting around me and Dani at lunch. When I asked them why they suddenly started sitting with us, Nick simply said: "Because you guys are entertaining and amusing to be with. That's we sat with you in the first place." Glad I'm entertainment for them.

Nick was fun to hang around with; Ryan was too... just something was different about him. He was more cautious than Nick, and he was perceptive. He could spot when something was wrong, and when I wasn't eating lunch, which was almost everyday, he'd ask why I wasn't eating. I just kept saying that I thought school food was gross and I ate when I got home. In actuality, the school food looked delicious. Hell, any food looked delicious. Tim gave me the occasional muffin or something like that, which kept me from starving, but I went to bed with hunger pains almost every night. I tried to take as little charity as possible.

"Harper, can I talk to you?" Ryan asked one day. I nodded and stepped into the crowded hallway with him while Dani and Nick finished their lunches. "Harper, is something wrong?"

My eyes widened. I wanted to scream yes and cling to him, but this was my problem not his. "No? Do I act like it?" I tried sounding coy, but it was a misrable attempt.

"I've never seen you eat, unless Dani gives you food, and you're always wearing winter clothing, no matter what the temperature is. I feel like there's something you're hiding..."

I laughed, "Ryan, you think too much. I told you, I usually eat when I get home, and I get cold so easily so I always dress arm just in case. Stop using your head so much."

I waited for what seemed like an eternity. Why did this boy pay attention so much to me? I'd only officially known him for a short while, but he still didn't seem to buy my stories. The few seconds he took to respond were hours; time I spent hoping and praying that he'd buy it.

"I guess you're right," he smilled, "Sorry about that."

I smiled in relief, "It's fine. Shall we return?"

I skipped back into the lunchroom and began bickering with Dani almost instantly about god knows what, which I could tell helped Ryan relax more and stop thinking about it. I was in a fantastic mood after that, and the rest of school and work went by in a flash.

Tim gave me some chicken that was going to expire soon, and because it was Friday and I hadn't seen Dad since two Thursdays ago, I was sure he'd be home. I cooked up the chicken as best I could, and set out a plate for him. I ate a tiny portion of it quickly so he wouldn't see if he came home, and waited.

And waited. I did my homework, snuck a little more chicken, and continued to wait. He showed up after 9, more drunk than usual.

"I made you food Daddy," I said cautiously as I hurried to remove his coat. He pushed me away and I fell on my butt, but it wasn't as painful as it could have been. He stumbled over to the table and plopped in one of the wooden chairs.

"Whatisthis?" he slurred.

"Chicken, Daddy. I made it for you."

He grunted and shoveled it all into his mouth barely stopping to chew. I found myself wondering when the last time he ate was, if he ate as well as I did. The chicken was gone within ten minutes, and he began looking for more.