Secretly broken, p.9
Secretly Broken, page 9
But tonight was. I still don’t understand what's wrong with me. It was just sex. My mom talked about sex like it was no big deal. She never spoke of regrets, and she was honest with having multiple partners before meeting my dad. She never talked about it being something special or waiting for any reason.
So why does it feel like it was a really big deal? And why couldn’t I just tell Tommy how I really felt? I knew I didn’t want to, but knowing that he did want to was more powerful. I was miserable, but that didn’t matter because I didn’t want to disappoint him.
It's late when I get home, late enough that the house is dark, and everyone is in bed. I walk quietly to my parents’ room, silently open the door, then tap on the door with my fingernail.
“I’m home,” I whisper. Then close the door. It's enough to rouse my mom without disturbing my dad. If I don’t check in when I get home, even if it's before curfew, I’ll get a lecture the next morning.
My head is a jumble of overwhelming emotions, too many things for me to even make sense of.
Tears drip silently down my face as I walk to my room. I go into the corner of my closet where I always curl up, finding the small space comforting. It makes me feel like I can hide away from the world.
I lean back against the wall, and my eyes fall to the multi-tool a few feet away. Grabbing it, I open the box knife blade.
Rolling up my sleeve, I press the blade to the inside of my upper arm and make a small slice in my skin.
I gasp at the sharp pain, and instantly feel a slight reprieve from the overwhelming emotional storm inside my head. It’s like the physical pain stops the whirlwind of thoughts and feelings that make it impossible to breathe. The pain stops everything else, or at least puts it on pause.
After making another small cut, I close the blade and crawl out from my closet. I look at my bed, but I can’t sleep, not yet. I feel dirty and my whole body is sore and I can’t go to sleep like this. Instead, I head to the bathroom down the hall and turn the shower on as hot as it will go.
When I step into the steaming water it burns my skin, but I don’t turn the temperature down. I need the water hot, I need it to wash everything away. Wash him away. His touch, his smell, his everything.
Grabbing my loofa, I frantically scrub every inch of skin until its red and angry and painful to touch. Only then do I turn off the water, dry off, and go back to my room. I pull on an old baggy t-shirt, crawl into bed and curl up as small as I can. Tears start to fall, but I still don’t understand why. I don’t know what’s wrong with me.
***
The next day Tommy and I have plans with my family. I tossed and turned all night, only getting a few short hours of sleep that were interrupted by several nightmares. My head aches and I wish I could hide away all day, but I can’t.
Grabbing a change of clothes, I head for the bathroom to shower since I fell asleep with wet hair and won’t be able to tame it into anything presentable without washing it again. I just sit on the floor of the tub under the spray for a long time, long enough that the water eventually starts to go cold, thinking about my mistake last night.
I made the wrong decision. I knew it last night, and I’m painfully aware of it today. I don’t want to face Tommy. He’s going to think this changes our relationship, that we’ve moved to the next level. He’s going to think we’ll start having sex all the time now.
And we definitely won’t.
I don’t know how I’m going to tell him, but I know I don’t want to have sex again.
The water gets too cold for comfort, so I quickly wash my hair and turn the water off. Tommy will be here soon, anyway. I need to get dressed. We’re spending the day with my family at a birthday party. That means I need to save the impending conversation with Tommy for afterward, that way he has no reason to blow up in front of my family.
Winding my hair up into a low bun, I head upstairs just in time for Tommy to come through the door.
“Good morning,” he says, smiling mischievously.
I ignore the pit in my stomach and force a smile to my face. “Hey.
His eyes instantly run over my jeans and t-shirt. “You’re changing before we leave, right?”
Ignoring him, I turn to the kitchen to find something for breakfast. My mom walks into the room and glances over at me. “That’s what you’re wearing?”
“What's wrong with what I’m wearing?” I snap.
She raises a brow at me, and I instantly mutter an apology.
“You could at least style your hair,” Tommy throws in. “Or dry it. That barely even requires effort.”
My mom turns her raised brow to him, but he doesn’t back down and she doesn’t say anything.
I don’t style my hair because I don’t know how to. I don’t even own a blow dryer, I’d have to borrow my moms and hope I don’t catch my hair on fire or something. Styling hair isn’t something that interests me enough to learn how to do it on my own. I throw it in a ponytail when I don’t want it in my face and I throw it in a bun after a shower to prevent it from getting my clothes wet. Before this moment, my lack of hair knowledge didn’t bother me.
“You look fine,” my mom finally says. “We’ll be leaving in twenty minutes. Can you help get the girls ready? I need to check on CJ and your father.”
I nod but she’s already walking out of the room, leaving me with an irritated Tommy.
“Why are you acting like a bitch this morning?”
My irritation instantly spikes. I hate it when he calls me that. “The first thing you say to me is a critique on my appearance,” I bite out.
He shrugs. “I just figured, after last night, you were gonna try to look sexy for me today.”
The pit in my stomach gets heavier at his words. “Last night didn’t…” Right now is a really bad time to bring this up. I shouldn’t bring this up right now.
“Last night didn’t what?” he asks, pressing for me to say more.
“Nothing,” I say, plastering a fake smile on my face. “I gotta go help the girls.”
As soon as Elsie and Macy are ready to go, I herd them out the front door and get Macy into her booster seat. My mom is just a few seconds behind us with my dad and brother in tow.
We all pile into the SUV and head out.
I have a big family. Once a month we all get together to celebrate all the birthdays that month instead of trying to get together for every individual birthday. The location rotates so everyone that wants to host gets a turn. This time it’s at my cousin’s house just a few miles away. The place is packed by the time we get there, as always, and kids are running in all directions. Sometimes I forget how big my family is, and then we all get together and it's just absolute chaos. I love it.
This is one of the regular times I get to see all my cousins. None of them are really my age, a few are older but most of them are younger. I still enjoy these parties, though. I like playing games with the kids and getting to see everyone. Chaos like this helps keep me from getting stuck in my head. It drives away the noise.
Tommy seems to enjoy it as well. He doesn’t have a big family or any siblings. He helps me wrangle all the kids and joins us for fun games like tag or hide and seek. It makes for a really good day, and for a few hours I’m actually able to get out of my head and just enjoy some fun.
All that turmoil comes crashing back as soon as we go home, though. I stand in the driveway watching Tommy’s headlights fade for a few minutes before pulling out my phone and opening a text to Teresa.
Me: Hey! Guess what?
Due to her poor cell service, I’m shocked when she immediately responds.
Teresa: Hi! What’s going on?”
I need to talk to someone, and she’s the only person I can think of trusting with the information.
Me: I got something big to tell you.
Teresa: Did you have sex?
I’m a bit shocked my goody-goody friend jumped right to that conclusion. I didn’t know she thought I was that kind of person.
Me: Yeah.
Teresa: I see.
My stomach starts to ache a bit as I type out a response.
Me: You can say what you’re thinking.
Teresa: It’s your life. I just believe you made a mistake.
Her words make my chest tight. Teresa and I joke that I’m the bad influence in our friendship, because even with her I wear a façade. She knows the personality I wear at soccer practice. The confident don’t-mess-with-me and rules-don’t-bother-me person. I tease her that she needs to loosen up a bit and learn to have fun. But the truth is I envy her. No matter how much she gets teased for being a goody-goody she is completely solid in her beliefs and doesn’t back down from that. She is confident in who she is and every decision she makes.
My phone goes off again.
Teresa: Do you want to talk about it?
I default back to my façade, even as a tear slips down my cheek.
Me: You’re just jealous. You know you wanna get some ;)
Teresa: Not until I’m married!
I sit on the steps of the front porch and put my phone down. The darkness is edging in again and I don’t have the energy to go inside and hang out with my family. So I just sit, and instead of fighting off the dark depressing thoughts, I let them flood my mind.
I’m an idiot. I’m a doormat. I’m a disappointment. I’m not attractive and I can’t do any better than Tommy so why do I even care what I did? No one else would have wanted me before last night, so what does it matter? I'm lucky to have Tommy. I’m lucky he saw my disgusting body and still wanted to be with me…
Tears flood my eyes and, despite my efforts, flow down my face.
I don’t understand what’s wrong with me. Why can’t I just be happy?
Chapter 10
A week goes by with nothing but soccer, soccer and more soccer. Coach gave us extra training to do including weekend practice, so I didn’t have time to do anything other than train and sleep, and I absolutely loved it.
But our training routine went back to normal the following weekend, so I have no plans and a boyfriend that is feeling neglected. I’m not surprised when my phone rings and Tommy’s name pops up on my screen.
“Hey,” I answer.
“Hey, wanna come over?”
“Sure, let me just ask my mom,” I say as I step into the kitchen. My mom is there preparing some sort of meal and looks up at me before nodding her approval, already knowing what I’m about to ask.
“My parents are gone for the afternoon,” he says suggestively. “We can have some fun.”
I stop in my tracks. “Umm, okay. Just a sec.” I told him I didn’t want to do anything for a while, but apparently he thinks over a week is a while enough.
“Mom,” I say, making her brows furrow because she already gave me the nod. “Can I go to Tommy’s for a bit?” I lock my gaze with hers and shake my head.
She frowns at me for a long moment, then, loud enough for Tommy to hear, she says, “Actually, I really need you to stay here and do your chores.”
Tommy hears her alright, immediately he utters a curse. “Come on. We haven’t had any alone time in two weeks.”
“Sorry,” I say into the phone. “I’ll text you all afternoon, though.”
He hangs up without saying bye, which just proves how irritated he is. Oh well, at least I don’t have to worry about texting him until he cools off.
“Thanks,” I say to my mom.
She stares at me for a few seconds before she resumes chopping whatever weird fruit she was chopping. “Those chores really do need your attention.”
“I’ll head out to the horses right now,” I promise. Doing chores is still better than dealing with Tommy’s inability to listen to me when I say no.
I spend hours cleaning the barn, feeding horses and organizing the tack room before I decide that’s enough chores to make my mom happy. I worked through dinner, which was done intentionally so I wouldn’t have to eat, and when I go inside everyone is already scattered for the evening. Mom and dad are in their room watching TV, CJ is in his room playing video games, and the girls are playing with toy horses in their shared room.
My head is starting to hurt, probably from not drinking water all day, so I pour myself a big glass of cold water before disappearing to my own room for the night.
I try to stay up and work on homework or study, but my headache just continues to get worse as the night goes on. Giving up on schoolwork, I crawl into bed and just grab my book, intent on reading until the headache goes away or I fall asleep.
After a long and restless night filled with very little actual sleep, I wake up to my alarm the next morning and force myself out of bed even though I just want to go back to sleep. But I’m taking the sleep supplement and refusing to sleep in so my mom can’t say my insomnia is my own fault. And even this headache and sour mood aren't going to stop me from proving it's not my fault.
I manage to make it through the morning upstairs and interact with family before I give up and hide out in my room again. I crawl into my closet, needing to hide from the world for a bit.
After a short nap, my phone dings with a text.
Tommy: Come over
With a sigh I sink back into the large comforter wrapped around me. I can't muster up any excitement at the thought of going over there. My head hurts and the darkness is just heavy today. I don’t have the energy to do anything.
My phone goes off again.
Mom: Going into town. Might get dinner. Coming?
Me: Staying home.
Mom: Okay
I might as well text Tommy back while I’m at it.
Me: I have a headache. Staying home and laying low today.
Tugging the comforter tighter around me, I scoot further into the corner of my closet.
My phone starts buzzing, Ariel’s name popping up. Ariel and I used to compete at horse shows together in 4-H. I ignore the call, not even able to muster the energy to answer a phone call. My phone immediately starts ringing again, showing Ariel's name again. I ignore her call a second time. Immediately she calls again.
“Seriously?” I mutter. Fine, she wants to talk then I’ll answer the stupid phone call.
“What?” I answer.
“What are you doing right now?”
I glance around my dark closet. “Nothing. Just nursing a headache.”
“You know what a great cure for headaches is?”
“I’m sure you’re gonna tell me,” I say in annoyance.
“Fresh air!”
“I’m not going anywhere today.”
“I’ll come to you! I’m in desperate need of a trail ride.”
I think it over. A trail ride does sound pretty nice.
“Come on,” she taunts. “You know you want to.”
“I don’t know,” I mumble. Going for a ride sounds nice, but it requires moving. And I just don’t want to move.
“Get your butt out of bed and go catch your horse. I’m coming over!”
A smile tugs at my lips despite my irritation. “Ugh. Fine.”
“Yay! I’ll be there in twenty minutes.”
I open a text to my mom.
Me: Ariel is coming over for a ride.
Pushing myself out of the blanket, I change into riding clothes and head outside. By the time my horse is caught, Ariel is pulling into the driveway in her dad’s truck and trailer.
She jumps out of the truck and strikes a pose. “Did you miss me?”
Last summer, Ariel and I were basically inseparable. But since then, she's been busy with school and other friends. For some reason I’m not the kind of person that has full time friends. I have horse friends that I see at horse shows, soccer friends that I see at soccer practice, and school friends that I see at school. But I don’t really hang out with friends just to hang out aside from Teresa, and even her I push away from time to time.
“Not really,” I say with a shrug.
“You’re cruel,” she says in mock outrage.
Ignoring her, I tack up my horse and she tacks up hers, then we ride off for the forest behind my house.
“Where’s Tommy?” she asks. “Doesn’t he usually monopolize your time on weekends?”
I shrug. “I had a headache.”
“Probably too much boy time. I had some myself last night.” She gives me a knowing look and I shake my head.
“Who was it this time?” I ask.
“I think he said his name was Steve. Or Stan?” She thinks about it for a moment. “No, maybe it was Sam.”
Ariel is the dumbest smart person I know. She gets straight A’s and is in all advanced classes. But she has called me in a panic afraid that she’s pregnant more times than I can count. And she’ll do just about any drug at a party that’s offered to her.
With a shake of my head, I nudge my horse faster until we are cantering through the trees, letting my worries blow away temporarily.
We’ve been riding for over an hour when my phone buzzes.
Tommy: Where are you?
Me: At home.
Tommy: No. You’re not.
Me: Um, yes, I am.
Tommy: I’m at your house.
“Shit,” I mutter.
Ariel looks over at me. “What?”
“Tommy’s at my house. I told him I was home and not going anywhere today.”
She laughs. “Someone’s in trouble,” she sings.
My stomach starts to ache as her words sink in.
“Hey, I’m gonna tell him you showed up without asking me first. Cool?”
