stars

twenty-one

Brooke

Noah and I sat at the beach. It pained me to be near the ocean ever since I realized I can't exactly go back. Maybe I don't want to. I don't know. Noah started kissing me. I kissed him back, going along with it. I hated this and I hated him. I wish I never went to Phoebe's school, and honestly? I'm kind of wishing I had never met Phoebe at all.

I brought her pain and sadness. I made her cry. If I never came to land in the first place, maybe life would be better for everyone. Noah pulled away, smiling at me. I looked down. I hated looking at him now. I used to stare at him with admiration and love, but now he only brings a weird feeling to my chest that I can only identify as dread. Thinking about him, even.

Noah moved my face to make me look at him. I tried to avoid his eyes, but I remembered the deal. I looked at him. He smiled. "Good girl. You're starting to remember without me having to remind you. I guess my methods are working?" My mind flashed back to a couple days ago. 

He wrapped his arm around me. Disgusted, I tried to push his arm off me. He glared at me. I shoved his arm off of my shoulder. He kicked my leg. Another time, I didn't do what he said, so he punched me. Yesterday, I pushed him away out of habit and he shoved me on the sidewalk. The scrapes on my knees and arms still burn. Today, when I didn't act as if I despised Phoebe, he hit my scrapes. It didn't hurt that bad, I guess.

I stared in his eyes. His blue eyes used to be magnificent. I wish it was still like that. I wanted to get out of here. Out of his reach, out of his sight. "I'm tired." I lied. 

"Okay, you can come back to my house and rest." He said. I shook my head. I really wanted to just go home. My real home. With my mother and Jamie. The water, which I can't classify as my home anymore since it's gone. 

"No, I'm going back to Phoebe's. I have clothes that aren't covered in the sand there. I'd like to wear those." I said, hoping he wouldn't slap me. He gave me a mean glare. 

"You can wear my clothes." 

"Your cologne makes me nauseous." I looked in his eyes, Noah still shooting me a mean look. He moved his hand out from under my chin quickly. I flinched. 

"Fine. I'll give you this. You're going to come back to the beach again in an hour, okay honey?" Noah stood up. He reached out his arm to help me get up and I flinched again. I took his hand, getting up. He kissed my cheek. "See you later." I nodded, walking away as quick as I could. I didn't look back. 

As soon as I stepped foot in Phoebe's house, I looked at the microwave for the time. 1:05. I had to be at the beach at 2:05. "Phoebe? You here?" I yelled out. No answer. Either she's sleeping or she isn't here. I walked into her room. She wasn't in here, so she probably wasn't here at all. I climbed on the bed, curling up in a ball in the corner. I kind of wish I had the top bunk. If Phoebe walked in here right now and I was on the top bunk, I'd have an extra second to prepare myself and not look like I'm crying. 

I shut my eyes. I want to be friends with Phoebe again. I'm tired of pretending as if I hate her and I'm tired of her hating me. I'm tired of Noah and his disgusting displays of "affection." I'm tired of him making me do whatever just so I don't get revealed. Tears fell down my face onto the bed and at this point, I didn't care if Phoebe walked in or not. Why should I care? It's not like she'd care either way. I buried my head in the pillow, letting the tears flow out of my face. Who cares? I sure don't. 

After a while, I stopped. I stopped crying and instead just stared at the wall, drowning in my own self-hatred. Why did I let it come to this? I let two people find out my secret. One of which hates me and the other is blackmailing me for it. Gods, I can't do anything. I kept staring at the wall. I heard the door click open. I didn't move. I heard footsteps and the bedroom door open. I wiped my face. Phoebe's footsteps stopped. I didn't turn around. I kept staring at the wall. 

"Are you awake?" Phoebe asked, her voice soft and quiet. I missed her. 

"Yep." 

"Did... Did you want me to leave?" She asked, upset sounding. 

"If you want to leave, go ahead. I'm just going to be staring at this wall for another thirty minutes." I replied. I tried not to show emotion in my voice. I was afraid she'd know I was upset or that I missed her. That wouldn't be good. 

"Okay, sorry." Phoebe set down what I assume to be a bag and climbed on the top bunk. It was silent besides the faint sound of her music blasting in her headphones. I started to cry again, silently, hoping Phoebe wouldn't notice. I pulled the blankets over my head. I heard Phoebe get down from the top bunk and walk downstairs. My sobs became semi-audible, but I planned to quiet them before Phoebe got back. 

"Are you crying?" Phoebe asked. I didn't hear her walk in. I pulled the blankets off my head, wiping my face in the process. I turned around to look at her, scared. "Oh my god, you are. Are you okay?" I got up, trying to walk past her. 

"I'm fine," I said. 

"You're crying!" She grabbed my wrist as I walked past. I yelped. She quickly let go, pulling my sleeve up. It revealed a couple small bruises, cuts, and scrapes from falling. "What is this from, Brooke?" I pulled my sleeve down, holding my wrist. "Brooke!"

"It's none of your business, Phoebe," I said. I wanted to cry. "Gods," I said, already hating myself for what I was going to say. "Can't you understand I hate you?" 

Hurt flashed across her face but was quickly replaced with anger and concern. "I don't care, Brooke! I'm worried about you! I don't care that you hate me or you aren't even my friend anymore! Your arms are bruised and scraped. What happened?"

"None of your business!" I yelled, walking out. I wish I didn't say that. It had become a habit to hate Phoebe, although I really didn't. I walked downstairs, checking the time on the microwave. 2:29. Oh no. I heard Phoebe running downstairs at the same time I heard the banging on the front door. Phoebe was about to see who was at the door, but I stopped her.

 I guessed I had a complete look of terror on my face because the only thing Phoebe said when I stopped her was, "Do you know who's at the door?" I nodded, walking backward.

The bangs were so loud, and I knew it was Noah. He yelled my name. I was late and I shouldn't have been. He's going to be so mad, oh gods what did I do? "Brooke?" I heard Phoebe say. She sounded so far away. Why did she sound so far away? She wasn't more than seven feet away from me. I tripped while walking backward. "Brooke! What's wrong?" Everything was so loud. The hum of the refrigerator and Noah banging on the door. I looked at Phoebe. She was saying something that I didn't hear. I couldn't breathe. I was so scared. What if Noah comes in? He's going to be so mad. He'll share my secret. 

I felt Phoebe put her hand on my shoulder. Out of habit of doing it with Noah, I shoved it off. I started to cry. I put my hands on my ears and shut my eyes. "Go away!" I yelled at Noah, hoping Phoebe wouldn't think I was talking to her. "Go away, Noah! I don't care anymore! Tell! I'm tired!" I choked out, sobbing. Phoebe put her hands on my shoulder. The bangs went away and all I heard was Phoebe telling me to breathe. She removed my hands from my ears. 

"Brooke, breathe. He's gone. It's fine." I looked at her, tears still streaming down my face. I wrapped my arms around her, hugging her. She hugged me back.

*

I walked into school, prepared to either have Noah kill me or people come to kill me. Neither happened. When I saw Noah in math, he kicked me under the desks while we were working. "Since I didn't go, did you tell?" I whispered. Noah shook his head. "Why not? That was our deal, wasn't it?" I shouldn't be saying this. 

"Yes," He said. "But if I told on you, it might reveal that I'm just like you." 

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(I'm like not going to say anything,,, Bye <3)