Dear Bully

Ch. 02: School

Dear Bully
Ch. 02: School

 

 

Momma ushered Corway over to the sofa-bed and tucked him in like he was a three-year-old child. I could see the smallest flicker of annoyance in his icy blue eyes, but it dulled down and simmered into bemusement after several tense seconds. She secured several blankets around him because our house wasn’t well insulated and it became very cold in the winter, even when the boiler decided to work – which, to be honest, wasn’t that often.

Once she was sure that he was comfortable, she bent down and kissed his forehead. It left an adorable red smear across his alabaster skin. Neither of us told him, but I think that he knew. Momma asked if he wanted anything, but he said no. Momma hesitated for a minute, nodded, and then offered him a weak smile. And after telling him that if he changed his mind, she would be upstairs, she went off to her room and closed the door softly behind her.

I was about to follow suit, when I heard his voice, much softer than it usually was. “Tessa?”

“Yeah?” I turned around, expectation clear on my face. But there was tension there as well, and it was undeniable that no amount of rubber bands and bubble gum would fix this mess that we were in.

“Thank you for this.” Corway said weakly. His voice cracked and he looked away, fearful that he would break down again. “You really didn’t have to do this.”

I blinked. Astonished by his blatant vulnerability, all I could manage to say was, “Goodnight, Corway.”

Corway nodded vacantly. “Goodnight.”

The next morning, I awoke earlier than usual. It was before dawn, about two hours before the train arrived in East Pacific to take us to Central, where the high school was located. Stacey was still knocked out in the bunk above mine, her little foot sticking out of her cocoon of blankets and her black body pillow snuggled firmly to her chest. I couldn’t help but smile. For such a snot-nosed brat, she certainly did have her moments of absolute cuteness.

Wrapping my tattered blue bathrobe around my lithe body, I made my way to the door. Gently, I slid it open and wandered out toward the stairs. The entire house was dark, but my eyes were accustomed to this. It was easy to locate the stairs and once I was down them, I hit the light switch on the wall and blinked blearily as yellow, fluorescent light flooded the sitting room. And there, on the sofa-bed, was Corway.

Momma must’ve been down in the middle of the night, because he had two additional blankets over his lanky body. His hair was disheveled and it fell messily over his handsome face. One sock-clad foot peeked out from underneath the blankets, and his hands fisted a pillow until it was about to pop a seam. Some would call it adorable, but I knew the truth. Those hands could maim, even kill. I felt bad for that pillow.

But then, my eyes were drawn to his cell phone, which rested, undisturbed, on the coffee table. Letting my curiosity get the better of me, I walked over and picked it up. It wasn’t password protected, so it was easy enough to access. The welcome screen showed five missed calls, all from the same number. His father. My stomach twisted uncomfortably and for a minute, I wondered if I should continue further. But then, I knew that I had to.

I called his voicemail and waited uncomfortably. Nothing could have prepared me for what I heard. “You little fucking shit-face! If you even think about setting foot in this goddamn house again, I’ll kill you! I’ll bash your fucking pea-sized head in! You’re dead to me, you bastard! Dead! And if I ever -,”