Something Special

Chapter 16

The bottle crashes on the wall behind Tara with a satisfying crunch. She flinches away from the flying broken glass and whimpers. "Why the fuck are you wearing that?" Ian Lincoln growls murderously. Tara glances down at her outfit. She had on over the knee socks, a burgundy skirt, a long sleeved black t-shirt and a scarf on. She had been in the process of pulling on her long wool coat when her dad walked in. He had taken the news of her shift starting earlier so she wouldn't be coming back after school, surprisingly well. This morning though, he had a hideous hangover and only Tara to take it out on. He shoves he against the counter roughly and her back cried out in protest.

"Please dad. I'll change. I'll go get some other clothes on. Please." she pleads with him. He back hands her around the face and her head snaps back. She focuses her attention back on her dad who was breathing heavily as if he were a bull. His nostrils flared and spit flying out his mouth. "Get out of my sight. I don't want to see you till tomorrow you skanky whore." He shoves her roughly and she cuts her knee on the broken glass. A slow trickle of blood oozes out of the open wound. Luckily, her fingerless gloves protect her hands. She runs into her room and fills a bag full of essentials. She could crash at a hotel or even Reggie's if she got really desperate. She shoves her feet into her Doc Martins and bolts out into the cold morning air. A fine layer of ice coats the stairs so she clings onto the graffitied railing for support.

She sits in the tube with her music stuck firmly in her ears. She had missed her usual train as was running 10 minutes late when she got into school. Her English teacher looks at her with confusion. "Lincoln. Why are you late?"

"Sorry sir. I missed my train." She slides into her seat at the back and pulls her coat off. "Well like I was saying, we'll be reading A Midsummers Night Dream. I trust everyone had their copies." Tara reaches inside her school bag and pulls out a battered copy of Shakespeare. She opens the dog-eared pages to the chapter they were reading. It was where Hermia and Helena have a fight. She scans the familiar pages quickly and starts writing notes in her notebook.

The rest of the class were having a heated discussion about Hermia's choice of insult so she excuses herself and goes to the bathroom. She cleans up the deep cut on her knee that had stopped bleeding and inspects her back. The bruise was already forming in purple splodges. It was sore to touch and spread across her lower back. She drops her shirt back over her bare skin with a sigh and looks at her hands. They were dry and she had a pink fresh scar across the palm of one hand. They weren't the hands of a teenage girl. They were tough and constantly aching. The finger long and the palms a crisscross of life and love lines.

She glanced up at her reflection in the mirror. Her face was overly red on one side from where he had slapped her and her eyes were bloodshot. She runs a hand through her dark brown hair and sighs. This would be a long day. And after school she would be going back to Alex's house. Ah Alex. Even thinking about him made her heart race. She thinks of his scruffy hair and tanned skin. The way his knuckles would clench and unclench even when he wasn't angry. The way he'd give you sideways glances when he thought you weren't looking. 'Stop it Tara!' She reprimands herself. She heads back to English with a glum expression.

The rest of the day passed quickly and her last period was a free. She had just sat down in the library when her phone buzzes with a text. It was from Alex asking her where she was. She replies and gets open her English book. She had written the date when someone pulls out the chair next to her. His familiar smell of Lynx fills her nose and she restrains a smile. Alex. "A Midsummers night dream. How dull." he pick up her copy and promptly starts reading it. She rolls her eyes and starts on the questions her teacher had set her.

"So Tara. What are you doing tonight?" he asks her. "Working. You know that."

"I do. I kinda wanted you to say 'Going to the fittest boy in schools house.' but you know. Whatevs." Tara rolls her eyes and goes back to her writing. "You're awful."