Chapter 8
The next three weeks were some of the most painful I’d ever had to endure. Kill drank more than I'd ever seen, and he never came home at night.
The only time we made eye contact was when we were practicing or onstage. I lived for those moments, because I could see the feelings he had for me were still there. He did a phenomenal job repressing them the rest of the time, but they would briefly skim the surface while we were singing.
Running was now a solo affair. Every morning, Kill would sit at the kitchen table, silently sipping his protein shake and ignoring me as I went outside.
I had to force myself to eat. My Tums consumption increased at an alarming rate, but I stuffed that worry into the back of my mind along with everything else I didn’t want to think about.
The letters on my car also changed. I was now gifted with pictures of Kill surrounded by numerous girls. Even though I never witnessed Kill doing anything improper with the skank entourage, my mind had come to terms with the fact he had moved on.
I had to change my hiding place for the notes from the drawer I’d initially put them in, to a shoebox at the top of my closet. I now had a pretty impressive collection.
My phone calls to my dad were less frequent. When we did talk, I could never gather the courage to tell him Jason and I were no longer together. I really didn't see the point in confessing my break-up; the damage had already been done. With my heart barely held together as it was. I wasn’t ready to deal with the devastation I would cause my dad when I told him.
The day before school started I spent the afternoon in my room avoiding everyone. When I was convinced everyone was gone, I decided to take a shower.
I stopped just before opening my door when I heard a skank giggle. My stomach churned, the bitter acid rising up. This was the first time Kill had brought one of his conquests home.
Frustrated and disgusted, I sent a quick text to Jessie, begging her to let me stay the night. I knew I needed to hurry, so I wouldn't have to endure being under the same roof as Kill and his debauched groupie.
Grabbing all of my stuff, I threw it into my bag, needing to escape before Kill got too far into the STD'd hole he brought home. My soul felt like it was crumbling. I ran to my closet and dug through it until my hands brushed against my old armor. Tears welled in my eyes as I pulled the hoodie on. It brought up so many memories of the times I’d donned it to hide the bruises Jason left behind on my skin. It was my shield against the outside world, and at the moment, I needed some protection.
I walked out of my room and right into the biker skank, Gemma. When our eyes met, hers filled with pure malice, as she supported a very drunk Kill.
"Seriously?!" I shouted, ready to pull her off him, but then thought better of it. "You know what? Don't mind me; I was just leaving. It’s a good thing you got to him now, with all thevirtuousladies he has been staying with, I'm sure his dick's going to fall off soon.” I moved to walk around her, but her cold laugh stopped me.
"You're a fucking moron. I can't believe he fell for such a stupid bitch. You’ve fucking ruined him for anyone else. I was helping his sorry ass home, because Catcher, who he’s been staying with by the way, was held up."
My mouth hung open as her words drilled through my hoodie, and wrapped around my heart, bringing the pieces closer together. Kill stood straighter and stepped away from Gemma, leaning on the wall and staring at me as she spoke. He didn't open his mouth to protest, and they both seemed to be waiting for me to answer.
His eyes flitted down to my bag which hung awkwardly over my shoulder. His jaw clenched and pain clouded his face. “Where are you going, Faith?” he asked. His whole body sagged with weariness.
"I was going to stay at Jessie's tonight. I have school tomorrow, and..."
"Hello, I'm still fucking here. You know what? You can have him. He isn't the same anymore." Gemma stomped down the stairs in her black high-heeled boots and slammed the door.
"So you've been staying at Catcher's?" I asked as I watched the alcohol lose its hold on him.
"Yeah," he said, rubbing the back of his neck before continuing. "I couldn't stay here. I didn't trust myself."
"I thought you were staying the night with the dirty whores hanging all over you," I admitted. My face flamed with anger and embarrassment.
"I knew you were going to assume I was sleeping around, and I never said anything to correct your assumption. It was a dick move, and I'm sorry."
"It was a dick move, but I understand. I was being childish too. I should’ve talked to you."
He crossed the small length separating us in two steps and hugged me to his chest. He bent down and talked into my hair, causing my body to go into shock at being so close to him after his lengthy absence.
“I don't want to play games with you anymore. I'm a hypocritical asshole, getting mad at you for not being truthful and turning around to do the same thing. Please, don't go to Jessie's.”
I inhaled deeply. Beneath the smoke and alcohol that clung to his clothes, I could detect Kill's essence. He kissed the top of my head, and I dropped my bag, finally relenting to his touch, and hugged him back.
We didn’t move out of the hallway. We just held each other securely, neither of us wanting to let go first.
“Come on, Slick. Let’s get you to bed; you have school tomorrow.”
My heart beat wildly when he called me Slick. I didn’t realize how much I had missed it. He pulled the covers back so I could slip into bed. It had been weeks since we’d talked, and the void I’d felt without him in my life needed to be filled.