More Than Him
Page 50
The girls laughed. I spat out my cereal.
Ethan walked into the room.
Dead. Fucking. Silence.
The sound of my spoon repeatedly hitting the bowl broke through the quiet. I watched my hand shake uncontrollably. "Fuck." I dropped the spoon and straightened my fingers. My breathing became erratic. I tried to calm it, but it just made the pain in my ribs worse. I cursed again and folded over myself.
Amanda's voice was quiet. "You broke his ribs, E." She linked her fingers with mine.
I heard Ethan curse.
Looking up at him, I tried to keep my face straight. "They're not broken. Just bruised." It wasn't important, but I didn't want him thinking he'd done more damage than he had.
Then Amanda moved. Her chair scraped against the floor as she stood up. "C'mon, baby," she said to me. "I'll drive you home, I need to pick up my car anyway, I gotta work tonight."
"No you don't," Ethan spoke.
All eyes went to him.
"I called in. You got lady cramps. We're going mini golfing tonight." He kissed Alexis on the cheek, and took a seat next to her. "We all are."
***
"What the hell is with mini golf?" I asked her.
She stood next to me and helped me remove my shirt, then did the same with hers. "It's his way of apologizing without actually saying the words. You know, E. He's stubborn. And stupid."
"Okay, but why mini golf?"
She pulled down my shorts, and did the same with her sweats. "It's this thing him and Tyson and I used to do."
"Tyson?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, when he lived here." She turned to check the water temperature in the shower, and then removed her bra.
I reached out and cupped her breast. She didn't even flinch. "Nothing happened between you and Tyson, right?"
She shrugged and yanked down my boxers. Her eyes widened when my dick was exposed. Like she didn't expect to see it erect. She was standing in front of me topless, what else was going to happen?
"We kissed once," she said nonchalantly.
Her thumbs curled around her panties, ready to push them down, but I stopped her with my free hand on her shoulder. "You kissed?" I wanted to puke.
"Yeah." She laughed out. I don't know why she was laughing. This shit wasn't funny. "It was so gross, I could've been kissing Ethan." She shuddered and dropped her panties to the floor.
Then she just stood there with her arms at her sides and a boob in my hand. I let out a grunt, annoyed that we couldn't go any further.
***
Logan: I'm going to need a script for some painkillers.
Dad: Is everything okay?
Logan: Yes, but I can't drive to see you. Can you come here?
Dad: I'll be there in a few hours.
Logan: I'm at Amanda's, my old house.
Dad: Should I ask what happened?
Logan: Everything's fine. I'm safe.
***
Sometimes, you live life searching for moments to remember. Then there are moments you'd rather forget. His face when he saw me was one of them. I thought I'd gotten used to it. When I was a kid and he tried everything to get me to speak, that face was a constant. For years afterwards, it never showed. Not until the night of my twenty-first birthday. And now. Now he was looking at me with that same pained expression.
"I'm fine."
He stepped into the house without responding.
I watched as he scanned the halls, probably trying to forget the memories that came with it. And then his eyes lit up and a smile overcame him. "Pretty girl," he greeted.
She moved slowly towards him, as if unsure. "Alan," she responded, hugging him quickly.
We sat at the table while he examined my injuries. He studied my face injuries but I pulled away. "I'm not worried about my—"
"Logan." It was said with finality. "You have a bruised jaw, black eye and fat lip. I don't know what happened, but either way, I need to check you out. Your vision might be damaged, your jaw could be fractured, and knowing you, you'll take the pain before telling anyone how bad it is."
I felt like a kid that'd just been schooled. "Okay."
Amanda hugged my arm and used it to hide her face. Then so quietly, I almost didn't hear her, "I'm so sorry."
Dad's eyes narrowed slightly. He looked from her to me, searching for a reason why she would say that. I subtly shook my head.
"Quit it," I said quietly into her ear. "You have nothing to be sorry for."
He spent the next few minutes going over my injuries and taking notes. I knew what he'd do. He'd go home and compare them to my previous injuries—the ones from when I was a kid—just to make sure he didn't miss anything. "Your ribs?" he asked knowingly.
I nodded. "Not broken. Just bruised."
He motioned for me to stand up and remove my shirt.
I stood. Amanda helped with my shirt. He didn't say anything about that.
"Breathe in," he ordered.
I tried. He noticed immediately how much pain it caused.
"Hm," he murmured, scribbling down more notes.
I sat back down, grateful for the reprieve.
The living room door that led to outside slid open. Ethan, Lexi and Tristan walked in. Dad smiled at them, but it wasn't genuine. I wondered if anyone else could tell. He greeted them by name quickly and went back to his notes, his mind too preoccupied to keep up with conversation.
I wanted to ask him how he knew them, but Amanda answered my unasked question. "He met them in my hospital room after . . ." She trailed off.
I had no idea.
I searched his face, wondering why he’d never told me. "And your anxiety pills? You're still taking them? You'll need another script soon."
My eyes darted to Ethan and the others. They sat on the sofa, pretending not to listen.
"He didn't take them last night," Amanda chimed in.
I glared at her.
She shrugged. "That's two nights in two weeks he hasn't taken it. That's bad, right?" She pulled her phone out of her pocket. "Should I set a daily alarm to remind him?"
That made Dad smile. Genuinely, this time. "Maybe you might have to do that, sweetheart."
"Okay," she said quickly, frantically typing on her phone.
I pulled it out of her hands. "You don't need to do that. I'm a big boy."
She yanked it back from me and continued tapping. "And he shouldn't mix drinking with the painkillers, right?" she asked him.
I rolled my eyes and sat back. I had no say in this conversation at all.
He reached over and squeezed her hand once. "That's right."
Ethan spoke up, "No drinking at all?"
Dad faced him now. "No. Not once he starts on the painkillers, it's a bad combination. Can knock him out."
"There goes mini golf," he mumbled.
"Huh," Dad said, coming to a stand. He handed me the scripts and started packing his shit.
"Thanks for coming all the way out here," I told him.
Ethan walked into the room.
Dead. Fucking. Silence.
The sound of my spoon repeatedly hitting the bowl broke through the quiet. I watched my hand shake uncontrollably. "Fuck." I dropped the spoon and straightened my fingers. My breathing became erratic. I tried to calm it, but it just made the pain in my ribs worse. I cursed again and folded over myself.
Amanda's voice was quiet. "You broke his ribs, E." She linked her fingers with mine.
I heard Ethan curse.
Looking up at him, I tried to keep my face straight. "They're not broken. Just bruised." It wasn't important, but I didn't want him thinking he'd done more damage than he had.
Then Amanda moved. Her chair scraped against the floor as she stood up. "C'mon, baby," she said to me. "I'll drive you home, I need to pick up my car anyway, I gotta work tonight."
"No you don't," Ethan spoke.
All eyes went to him.
"I called in. You got lady cramps. We're going mini golfing tonight." He kissed Alexis on the cheek, and took a seat next to her. "We all are."
***
"What the hell is with mini golf?" I asked her.
She stood next to me and helped me remove my shirt, then did the same with hers. "It's his way of apologizing without actually saying the words. You know, E. He's stubborn. And stupid."
"Okay, but why mini golf?"
She pulled down my shorts, and did the same with her sweats. "It's this thing him and Tyson and I used to do."
"Tyson?" I raised an eyebrow.
"Yeah, when he lived here." She turned to check the water temperature in the shower, and then removed her bra.
I reached out and cupped her breast. She didn't even flinch. "Nothing happened between you and Tyson, right?"
She shrugged and yanked down my boxers. Her eyes widened when my dick was exposed. Like she didn't expect to see it erect. She was standing in front of me topless, what else was going to happen?
"We kissed once," she said nonchalantly.
Her thumbs curled around her panties, ready to push them down, but I stopped her with my free hand on her shoulder. "You kissed?" I wanted to puke.
"Yeah." She laughed out. I don't know why she was laughing. This shit wasn't funny. "It was so gross, I could've been kissing Ethan." She shuddered and dropped her panties to the floor.
Then she just stood there with her arms at her sides and a boob in my hand. I let out a grunt, annoyed that we couldn't go any further.
***
Logan: I'm going to need a script for some painkillers.
Dad: Is everything okay?
Logan: Yes, but I can't drive to see you. Can you come here?
Dad: I'll be there in a few hours.
Logan: I'm at Amanda's, my old house.
Dad: Should I ask what happened?
Logan: Everything's fine. I'm safe.
***
Sometimes, you live life searching for moments to remember. Then there are moments you'd rather forget. His face when he saw me was one of them. I thought I'd gotten used to it. When I was a kid and he tried everything to get me to speak, that face was a constant. For years afterwards, it never showed. Not until the night of my twenty-first birthday. And now. Now he was looking at me with that same pained expression.
"I'm fine."
He stepped into the house without responding.
I watched as he scanned the halls, probably trying to forget the memories that came with it. And then his eyes lit up and a smile overcame him. "Pretty girl," he greeted.
She moved slowly towards him, as if unsure. "Alan," she responded, hugging him quickly.
We sat at the table while he examined my injuries. He studied my face injuries but I pulled away. "I'm not worried about my—"
"Logan." It was said with finality. "You have a bruised jaw, black eye and fat lip. I don't know what happened, but either way, I need to check you out. Your vision might be damaged, your jaw could be fractured, and knowing you, you'll take the pain before telling anyone how bad it is."
I felt like a kid that'd just been schooled. "Okay."
Amanda hugged my arm and used it to hide her face. Then so quietly, I almost didn't hear her, "I'm so sorry."
Dad's eyes narrowed slightly. He looked from her to me, searching for a reason why she would say that. I subtly shook my head.
"Quit it," I said quietly into her ear. "You have nothing to be sorry for."
He spent the next few minutes going over my injuries and taking notes. I knew what he'd do. He'd go home and compare them to my previous injuries—the ones from when I was a kid—just to make sure he didn't miss anything. "Your ribs?" he asked knowingly.
I nodded. "Not broken. Just bruised."
He motioned for me to stand up and remove my shirt.
I stood. Amanda helped with my shirt. He didn't say anything about that.
"Breathe in," he ordered.
I tried. He noticed immediately how much pain it caused.
"Hm," he murmured, scribbling down more notes.
I sat back down, grateful for the reprieve.
The living room door that led to outside slid open. Ethan, Lexi and Tristan walked in. Dad smiled at them, but it wasn't genuine. I wondered if anyone else could tell. He greeted them by name quickly and went back to his notes, his mind too preoccupied to keep up with conversation.
I wanted to ask him how he knew them, but Amanda answered my unasked question. "He met them in my hospital room after . . ." She trailed off.
I had no idea.
I searched his face, wondering why he’d never told me. "And your anxiety pills? You're still taking them? You'll need another script soon."
My eyes darted to Ethan and the others. They sat on the sofa, pretending not to listen.
"He didn't take them last night," Amanda chimed in.
I glared at her.
She shrugged. "That's two nights in two weeks he hasn't taken it. That's bad, right?" She pulled her phone out of her pocket. "Should I set a daily alarm to remind him?"
That made Dad smile. Genuinely, this time. "Maybe you might have to do that, sweetheart."
"Okay," she said quickly, frantically typing on her phone.
I pulled it out of her hands. "You don't need to do that. I'm a big boy."
She yanked it back from me and continued tapping. "And he shouldn't mix drinking with the painkillers, right?" she asked him.
I rolled my eyes and sat back. I had no say in this conversation at all.
He reached over and squeezed her hand once. "That's right."
Ethan spoke up, "No drinking at all?"
Dad faced him now. "No. Not once he starts on the painkillers, it's a bad combination. Can knock him out."
"There goes mini golf," he mumbled.
"Huh," Dad said, coming to a stand. He handed me the scripts and started packing his shit.
"Thanks for coming all the way out here," I told him.
