Not the Golden Girl

Chapter 4: Tradition

Tuesday went about the same, I avoided my father as much as I could, went to school, was ignored by Zeke, and watched Reed and Char fall into a total state of infatuation with each other. The pattern followed for Wednesday, the only change coming when I got home from school that afternoon.
As soon as I entered my modest home, all the hair rose on my body with alertness. It was just passing 6:30, and I had come home with the intent to shower and change before heading to the garage to watch Survivor. Typically, this wouldn't be an issue, as my father followed one of two routines. He'd either have been so drunk from the night before that he'd woken up late enough to start up drinking again- and therefore be completely fucked by the time I came home- or he'd have gotten up early enough to head to one of the many construction sites run by another drinking buddy, to make some cash. Either way, I typically had run of the house at this time. Unfortunately for me, on this night, he must've decided to keep drinking, but invite his friends over earlier than usual. Which meant that as soon as I swung my door open, I was met with the lecherous gazes of men quite literally my father's age, and the glazed eyes of my father. No one said a word as I scampered towards my bedroom down the hall, but I could feel their eyes burning holes into my back. I let out a heavy sigh upon reaching my bedroom, closing the door softly behind me in hopes of remaining as unremembered as possible.

No longer feeling comfortable enough to shower, or even change clothes, I quickly wedged my chair beneath the doorknob and grabbed a bag to put a fresh set of comfy clothes in, a prepackaged toiletry kit, and my slippers. I wouldn't be gone for the night, but I'd certainly be taking my time coming back here tonight. Hopefully by the time I'd get back, his friends would either be passed out or gone.
Glancing at my phone, it was only 6:40, leaving me with much more time than I needed to get to the garage before 8:00, but I wouldn't stay here. I pulled the chair aside and opened the door, only to find a man I didn't recognize leaning against the wall about 5 feet from me. Even with the only light coming from the living room beyond us, I could see his dilated pupils and the shine that comes into the eyes of a predator who thinks they've found some prey. With my only option being to move forward, I tucked into myself but kept my hands ready to jab out as I walked. I'd made it just past him when hands shot out at me, one pulling at my waist and the other over my mouth. I had to resist an eye roll even as my heart galloped- as if I'd call for help, I wasn't that stupid. The men in there would at best turn a blind eye, or deaf ear in this case, and at worst, they'd join him. He shoved me against the wall, but I got a quick hit to the kidney in before digging my nails into the thin skin of his wrist. I wasn't ready for the sharp anger that bolstered his strength as his slammed my head back into the dry wall, and wrapped a hand tightly around my throat. A sweat broke out as I met his eyes, and the hand applied more pressure. Over the years, more men than I could remember had made passes at me, but never with this level of violence, or that dark look in their eyes. I began to panic as the choke tightened further and my vision began to spot. I could feel his other hand begin to pull at my T-shirt, his own nails scrapping my arms and stomach. As I felt my strength flow out, I jerked my knee wildly, and by the grace of god, it connected with his crotch.
Finally, air flowed into my lungs when his hands fell away, but the relief was quickly replaced with sharp pain as he smacked me across the face. I felt my lip cut against my tooth at the action, and I tasted blood. I twisted away and rammed my elbow into his head as hard as I could, and I didn't think twice before running once I heard the crunch of his nose. I tore out of my house with unseeing eyes, not able to do anything more than half trip half sprint to my car, the front door still open behind me. I pounced into my car, locking the doors immediately as I panted, and reversed out of the driveway like a bat out of hell. Jesus fucking Christ. My whole body was shaking with adrenaline, my throat burned, and I could feel the line of blood dripping my lip down my chin. I wanted to speed to the police station, file a report, make that man go away. But I didn't have the money for court, nor the ability to chance being put into foster care. It might've only been four months until I was eighteen, but kids in the system around here never seemed to last long, and I'd always believed that it was better the devil you know. But tonight scared me. Usually, I'd walk away a little battered and bruised from one of his friends, but not tonight. I've never felt the brush of death so heavily, nor looked into eyes that held such malice. Forcing myself to take deep breaths and turn on the music, I focused on the lyrics of a Taylor Swift song as I drove aimlessly. It was a waste of gas, but a necessary evil so I could pull myself together before seeing the boys. They'd no doubt want to go to my house and start knocking heads, but I needed to be calm enough to stop them. It would do them no good to be arrested defending me, and again, it could lead me to being in a system I couldn't beat.

I kept driving and driving, watching as the sky changed from the lightest blue to a vibrant orange and pink, then finally a shadowed purple that just clung to the edges of day. When I finally looked at the clock, I cursed at the time. 7:51. I had enough time to get to the garage, but my late arrival would draw ever more attention. Once I pulled in, I took note of Char's car, and the same car Reed and Zeke drove. I cautiously entered through the side door, hoping everyone's attention would be focused elsewhere, and I could get to the bathroom before they saw me. Luck seemed to be on my side, as no one was in the waiting area to see my arrival. As I scampered in, I heard Preston ask if it was me.
"Hey, sorry I'm late. I'm gonna run to the bathroom, be out in a minute." I yelled towards the cracked door leading to the garage.
"Hurry your ass up, show's about to start," Dean called back.
Just as I was about to pull the bathroom door open, it opened to reveal Zeke stepping out. Time seemed to halt as we just stared at each other, the dim bathroom light surely exposing my bloody lip and bruising neck.
"What the fuck? What happened to you?" Zeke started to lift his hand to my lip before I stepped out of his reach.
"That's none of your concern. What are you doing here, I thought a dinky garage with high schoolers held no interest to you?" I sneered at him.
Green eyes darkened at my clear deflection and sass, and he stepped closer once more.
"I changed my mind. Now I'll ask again, what the fuck happened to you?"
I rolled my eyes in an attempt to seem unaffected by his words or his nearness. The scent of fresh linens and rain assaulted my senses and muddled my thoughts.
"I got into a little scuffle is all, nothing to get your panties in a twist over, big guy," I said I patted his shoulder and stepped around him, closing the bathroom door quickly behind me.
My heart was pounding in my chest as I turned my back at the door and let out a puff of air. Zeke had an strange and unfair affect on me, my whole body seeming to come alive in his presence. Whatever, I thought, that was a problem for a different day.
I looked at the mirror in front of me, and almost recoiled at my reflection. A bloody and slightly swollen lip, along with a necklace of bruises around my neck, so clear you could practically make out the finger tips. Fuck, there wasn't going to be any way to hide this from everyone. Shaking out my limbs, I quickly changed into some ratty sweats and let my hair down. I grabbed a paper towel and ran it under the faucet before dabbing at my lip and chin, removing some of the dried blood there. Taking a deep breath, I left the bathroom and walked into the main garage. The sight of all my favorite people (and Zeke) sitting together and happy ebbed some of the chill that had seeped into my bones.
Heads turned towards me as I approached them, and I watched smiles turn into frowns, and mixes of anger and sadness, or confusion in the case of Reed, flood into their faces. Dean opened his mouth to say something, but a quick shake of my head stopped him in his tracks. We'd done this dance before and while the steps varied, the boys and Char knew that until the clock struck midnight in four months, there was nothing to be done.
"Jesus James, are you okay?? What happened?" Reed asked.
I sent him a rueful smile, "Ah, nothing really, just got into it with someone." I quickly changed the subject, "Now, is it just me or is it time to watch Jeff Probst mock starving people?"
With that, I plopped down between Mitch and Dean, grabbed the remote, and pressed play. It wasn't until the first commercial break that I felt the tension begin to lift, and chatting and laughter resumed. By tribal council, everything felt normal and the weight on my chest lifted. We hung out and goofed around until eleven, then we went our separate ways home.

I'd felt a lot of eyes of me throughout the night, but one green pair in particular seemed to burn holes through me.