My mouth dropped open in disbelief. “Was she…how? But…”
Jason’s teeth ground against each other in a way that was almost painful to watch. “We got into a fight after the ceremony. She thought I messed around with one of her friends and broke it off with me.”
“Did you?” My eyes were wide with shock.
“No! Of course not!” In one quick motion he raised his fist and punched a hole through the kitchen cabinet. Jarred pieces of stained wood crackled and fell to the ground, reminding me of ashes from a cigarette. I jumped back, both startled and impressed by his strength. “Did you really think she wanted you? Did you really think she would have gone for a guy like you?”
“A guy like me?” I repeated with a snort. It was my life’s theme, wasn’t it? A guy like me.
“She only did it to get back at me,” he replied matter-of-factly. “What better revenge than to sleep with my new brother?” He eyed me with distaste. “How does it feel to get sloppy seconds?”
My eyes clouded over as I felt the familiar rush of adrenaline. “You sure you fucked her before? She felt brand new to me. Maybe your dick just wasn’t big enough to do the job right—”
I didn’t have a chance to finish my thought before Jason’s fist came crashing down against my nose. The telltale pop and gush of blood were the only signs of a broken nose since, oddly enough, I felt no pain. In fact, the tingling sensation actually felt sort of good. I needed more of it.
“I have no idea what my mom sees in your dad. He’s nothing but a fucking pansy!” Jason yelled, lunging toward me again.
“Like I didn’t know that.”
Sidestepping him, I laughed and landed my own punch to his temple. He wavered a bit, but somehow straightened himself quickly before he fell to the floor. That punch would have knocked anybody else out, but Jason must have trained in some level of fighting before. Awestruck, I watched as he effortlessly spun around on his heel and threw another hit to my face. It landed with a sickening THUD, but once again I didn’t feel it. It was then I realized that I was too numb to feel anything. A year’s worth of denying everything that meant a lot to me had finally taken its toll.
Obviously perturbed at my lack of reaction, Jason began trembling with rage. He took a step forward as if to throw another punch, but leaned toward a nearby counter instead. To my horror he picked up my phone and threw me a wicked smile. “Who’s that girl you were texting? Balboa?”
I gritted my teeth, feeling the numbness finally give way to anger. “Give it back—now.”
“Oh, yeah, her name was Rocky, right?” Bleached teeth flashing, Jason made a show of swiping through my phone.
Fuck! I knew I should have made a passcode!
“What do you say I tell your little girlfriend back home that you were screwing around with some other girls? You think she’d like that? Will she still be your little bitch then?”
Just like that I snapped.
POW!
Jason crumpled to the ground, letting a groan escape his lips. A trickle of blood ran from the corner of his mouth, which was swelling by the second. My phone clattered to the floor, but before I could reach for it, he grabbed my ankle, yanking hard until I fell beside him. I gasped for breath, but the impact had knocked the wind out of me. Jason took advantage of my momentary incoherence to climb on top of me and proceeded to throw quick jabs.
“How…punch…could you…punch…sleep with my fucking girlfriend?” he screeched.
Somehow mustering strength, I pushed him off of me, catapulting him toward the wall. I sprung to my feet and jumped on top of him, delivering my own blows.
Now, I’m not sure how it happened, but somehow due to our ruckus, the damaged cupboard broke further, causing dishes to fall to the ground. Our kitchen was now a warzone complete with shattered glass and other weaponry.
Our eyes simultaneously landed on a jagged piece of porcelain. Hesitantly, we glanced at each other. It wasn’t in me to call truce, but I drew that line at permanently maiming and perhaps murdering another person. Fortunately, Jason seemed to feel the same way.
Wiping the blood from his nose, he spat out red tinted saliva. “Fuck it. You’re not even worth it.”
My chest heaved with ragged breaths. Fists clenched, I took another step forward. “Come on! Let’s keep this going then.”
Jason’s bloody face broke out into a grin. “What’s the point? You’re not worth my time.”
I gestured toward an opened wound on his eyebrow, which continuously oozed blood. “Judging by that gash, I am worth something.”
Without answering, he stuck out his tongue and licked at a drop of blood on his cheek. Smacking his mouth together in show, he grinned again. “You’re just a piece of shit, Jesse. You, your dad, and your mom.”
I blinked in surprise.
“You don’t think I did research about your family before my mom agreed to marry your worthless dad? Of course she didn’t care, so maybe she is meant for stupidity.” Like a lion stalking its prey, he walked around me, scrutinizing me. “You’re nothing but shit, Jesse. Who’d care about you? Not your own parents, not me, and probably not that whore from Bethel Hills. You’re better left alone.”
Without another word, Jason turned and left me alone, standing in the shattered mess of what used to be our kitchen. I glanced around and cringed, for the first time noticing my favorite dishes and holders broken on the floor.
“Maybe he’s right. Maybe I am better off alone.”
***
I felt a splash of iciness against my body that caused me to hurl forward. Blinking away drops of water from my face, I gazed around, allowing my vision to clear. I was in the bathroom—on the shaggy lavender rug to be exact—twisted in a very uncomfortable position. My dad’s concerned face towered over me, twisted into a combination of anger and relief.
“What the hell were you doing?” he demanded. “Did you take drugs again?”
I shook my head, laughing weakly as my fuzzy memories began to clear. I did take drugs, but not of the illegal kind. Once Jason left, I remembered feeling the adrenaline leave my body. All at once the pain of my broken nose, countless bruises, and numerous gashes hit me. Struggling not to heave over, I practically crawled toward my dad’s bathroom to grab his pain medicine. Popping one pill didn’t seem enough, nor did two or three. Before I knew it I had downed almost half of the bottle. I was surprised I was even alive.
Groaning, I tried to sit up, only to feel my hand push against something slimy. “What the hell?”
“It’s your vomit, Jesse,” Dad replied in disgust. “You’re lucky you passed out on your side, otherwise you could have choked yourself to death.”
Succumbing to my weakness, I allowed my body to crash back down onto the ground. “Lucky, eh? Says who?”
Dad’s color left his face. “Did you…did you try to kill yourself on purpose?”
I chuckled weakly. “Honestly, I don’t know.”
Dad lowered himself, squatting beside me and dragged his fingers through his thinning hair. He shot me a pained look. “What the hell, Jesse? I thought you were doing well! I thought you—we were doing well.”
I closed my eyes, ignoring the stench of acid that filled my nose. Focusing instead on the cool surface of the bathroom tiles, I whispered my reply. “Denying your feelings isn’t getting better. It just makes everything worse.”
“What is so bad about Charleston that would lead you to do something so despicable?” he demanded.
“It’s not about the place, Dad. It’s about me…”
The front door suddenly burst open to an influx of uniformed men. My eyes flashed wildly as they rushed toward me.
“Did you call the cops on me?” I screeched in a panic.
“The paramedics, but maybe I should have called the cops,” he replied in a grim tone.
Confusion set in as I was poked and prodded repeatedly. Before I knew it, I was being wheeled away on a stretcher. Dad stood by the door, talking to whom I assumed to be the captain of the squad.