Before we left for the station, Lauren scrunched up her nose and told me I needed to shower. "I think getting to the station is more important than my personal hygiene."
"I am not going to make a 20 minute car ride with you smelling like death in 135 pounds. Wash away satan's cologne from your body, then we can go." I knew she was just trying to kill time, and partly my self esteem, by insulting me and telling me to take a shower, but I went with it anyway. I sighed and got out a pair of jeans and a plain white tee-shirt and under garments and went to the bathroom to scrub away the stench even I couldn't stomach.
When I came out of the shower, dressed I put on a par of Nike shoes and then Lauren and I left. She drove - because I still don't have my license. I really need to do something about that. When she pulled up in the parking lot, I could practically see how fast her heart was beating. I took her hand. "Lauren, you can do this. Just tell him what you told me." She nodded, and when I started the process of how one exits a car, Lauren turned to me.
"No. I have to do this alone."
"You sure." She nodded, and then I let her go. I plugged my phone into her car charger and waited. After about 15 minutes, I decided to go into the station and see how Lauren was doing. What I found was a disheveled Bailee, her makeup running down her face and her mother was sitting next to her. I walked over to them and Mrs. Reynolds quickly got up and hugged me.
"Oh, Darcy! You're here - did Fitz tell you?" She obviously didn't know that I was not on speaking terms with that ass-wipe or his cheese-tit of a girl friend. But I decided to be civil for his mother's sake because she was just the sweetest lady.
"No, I'm actually here because of something else. . . what happened?" Mrs. Reynolds played with her hands for a moment, before she stood.
"I'm feeling a little tired. I'm going to get some coffee. Bailee, sweetie, do you want anything?" Bailee just shook her head. I sat in her mother's now vacant seat, and I looked into Bailee's eyes.
"What's going on?" Bailee began shaking her head and she looked like she was going to cry, but I grabbed her shoulder. "No, you are not going to cry. What was the first thing I asked you at the beginning of this school year?" She turned to me and she looked surprised that I remembered - I did.
"Um. . . you asked me if I listened to my heart or my head."
"And how did you answer?"
"My head." I nodded.
"Now, talk to me. Ignore your heart." She took a deep breath and then explained to me what was going on.
"Our older Brother Michael is home from college. Dad was at work and Mom and I, we were at the mall. Dad walked in on Michael having sex. . . with a guy." She paused to take another breath, to stop herself from crying, "He went ballistic. He started beating the other guy, then Michael pulled him off of the guy, but then dad went after Michael and Fitz tried to jump in, he was at home too. But Dad just punched Fitz and then Michael jumped in trying to stop Dad from hurting Fitz. Dad just kept hitting him and hitting him. And he didn't stop." And she couldn't stop herself from crying, but I let it go. "Mom was going to take me to Olivia's to study, so I came inside to get my book bag, but I saw Dad, Fitz, and Michael, and all I could do was scream. Michael started freaking out more, and so did the guy, and Fitz was knocked out; but, it was like all Dad could see was red. I ran over to get him off of Michael, and Dad pushed me into the wall. Mom had heard my scream and ran into the house. She managed to get Dad off of Michael, and Dad just left the house and drove away somewhere."
"Is everyone okay?"
"Michael's in the hospital, beaten up pretty badly, but he told Mom everything that happened, even though his jaw was pretty messed up. That's why we're here. The doctor couldn't think of a probable reason for why Mike would look that way except that someone beat him up pretty bad. He called a cop, and my mom broke under the pressure. I guess she should've been coached by you too." I laughed at Bailee's totally true jab, "And Fitz and the guy are ok. A little bruised up, but not as bad as Michael." I grabbed her hand.
YOU ARE READING
This Means War
HumorIn every war, it is important to have a plan. I like to think my plan is quite similar to the Union's plan during the Civil War - The Anaconda Plan. Mine was the Cade Jefferson Plan, and I wanted to squeeze his neck like an anaconda anytime he talke...