Chapter 13
The next two weeks were hell. Kill continued to ignore me-and everyone else for that matter. I awoke every day wondering when he would tell me what was going on. Every time I asked him, he gave me a shrug, or mumbled something about being tired.
The only solace I received was when he crawled into my bed every night and held me tight. My stomach became my own worst enemy, and I went through more Tums than I ever had before. The stress of whatever Kill was going through, my classes, and Jason’s lovely letters plastered to my car was wearing me down.
Coffee with Trent became an almost daily occurrence. The hollow look in Kill’s eyes was something I couldn't bear, and I tended to escape to school. Trent behaved, and I told myself as long as he was good I would remain friends with him. I needed someone, and since he knew about the letters, it seemed logical to keep him close.
D noticed Kill’s behavior two or three days in. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked while I was in the kitchen going over the last conversation I had with Kill, for the thousandth time in my head.
“I’m fine,” I answered wiping my hands off on the towel I’d slung over my shoulder, my fake smile in place.
D gave me a look of pure pity. Anger prickled against my skin, and my smile faltered as my eyes narrowed. D seemed to have no sense of self-preservation, failing to notice the anger simmering on my face, because he gave me a smile equally matched with the pity in his eyes.
“I know Kill is acting like an asshole, but he can’t help it. He isn't the prince in your story. In fact, like I've been telling you, fairytales don't exist.” He placed his hand on my shoulder, like he wanted to console me.
I shrugged him off, my body vibrating with anger. “Stop it, D,” I warned through my teeth, unable to unclench my jaw.
“Think about it. Why do you think he's withdrawing from you? He wants to go back to what he knows but he doesn’t want to hurt you. This is real life, Faith. I tried to warn you. Love doesn't exist.”
“D, whatever's happening with Kill, he'll tell me when he's ready. We're not together. We're friends, so he shouldn’t feel guilty. The only one he's hurting is himself, so I don’t need your pity. I’ve been through a lot worse in my life, and I survived without sympathy from anyone, and I sure as hell don’t need it now.”
“I don’t pity you; I just want you to be prepared for the inevitable,” he said, trying to put his hand on my shoulder again.
“Enough, D. I know that your world's tilting with all these changes, but Kill's world is obviously tilting too. He needs your support, just like he’s supported you through everything you survived.”
I turned and took my anger out on the onion I’d previously been chopping. D stood behind me, and I willed him to go away. He finally left, and I attacked dinner with gusto, putting all my frustration into my cooking.
Kill’s somber mood affected everyone. Practices were no longer playful. Even Jet seemed more subdued than usual. He no longer tried to hump Kill's leg between songs.
Van pulled me aside after practice one day and asked if I knew what was going on with Kill. I shook my head dejectedly, wishing he would just open up to me.
My mind was never far from Kill, and my stomach let me know daily. To make sure I was thoroughly entrenched in hell, I went for my yearly gyno exam. I refused to tell Kill where I was going when he asked, and sadly, it was the most attention he had paid to me in days.
The first thing my doctor. noted was my address change. She’d been trying every year to get me to open up about the scarring surrounding my uterus. I should have known an address change would get her attention.
“So, Faith, I see you’ve moved,” she said, her eyes probing.
I nodded, not wanting to talk about leaving Jason. She stood there silently, waiting for an explanation. “I broke up with my boyfriend.”
She didn’t even try to hide her smile. “Are you safe?” she asked coming closer to inspect my face.
“I don’t know what you're talking about, but yes, I'm safe.” I thought about the letters hidden in the shoe box high in my closet, taunting me, but I pushed them back.
“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, pleading with her eyes for me to finally open up to her.
Just like every other time, I stayed quiet. “Can we just do the exam?” I asked.
She shook her head disappointedly before examining me. When it was over, she told me what I already knew, but wished not to be.
“Everything looks the same. Some of the scar tissue has broken which is probably why you were feeling more pain during your menstrual cycle. I don’t see any improvement, and the likelihood of your getting pregnant and carrying a baby to full term is still slim. I suggest you keep taking your birth control.”
Her words stung. Even though I knew I wasn't ready for a baby, I still hated the choice had been taken away from me. I got dressed, wanting nothing more than a hot shower.
At home, Kill was sitting on the couch staring at the blank TV. I sat next to him, drawing him out of his thoughts.
“Hey.”
“Hey, is everything alright with you?” I asked, feeling like this was all I asked him anymore.