Chapter Eight

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For the first time since the start of the school year, I was able to fall asleep and stay asleep for most of the night. Though I wasn't entirely sure what changed, I assumed that the reassurance of obtaining another ID in the near future helped to calm my nerves. Not to mention Brian didn't come home that Sunday, and my eyes surprisingly closed with ease.

I still wasn't in the best condition when I went to school that week; my body was weak, I found it extremely difficult to focus on anything for too long, and I still found myself wanting to shut my eyes. My mind apparently deemed school to be a safe place to go to sleep because I desperately wanted to drift out of consciousness and get some rest, but I had to force myself to stay awake. I dreaded going to work for that exact reason; the grocery store didn't remind me of Brian and therefore I found myself struggling to stay awake while working as well.

For the most part, I stocked new shipments because Max claimed I wasn't old enough to work as a cashier. I didn't mind and restocking was relatively easy, so I did so everyday until there was nothing left to restock, and then I used the time remaining in my shift to walk around and help anyone shopping. Max's store wasn't only for food and the rest of the employees seemed to be at the front as cashiers, so I was kept pretty busy.

When I finished restocking on Tuesday and began my walk around the store, all I could think about was Damon. I wasn't as much focused on the fact that he had yet to make it to the school to give me my ID, but rather, I couldn't distract my thoughts from his well-being. He was the closest I'd ever had to a friend, and I would almost go as far as saying that he was the brother I never had. We only spent two months together in Alice's home, but I saw him frequently while I was living in my last group home and we had developed a relationship over the years. I hadn't seen him in such a long time before I went to visit him on Sunday, and my heart was torn on whether or not to be happy or sad.

On the bright side, he had filled into his body and he looked healthy, but I knew he was still going through hell. His group home wasn't the worst that he could've possibly been placed in, but the boys there used violence as a fear tactic on more than one occasion. I knew Damon was trying to cycle his way out of illegal activity, but I was a little scared that he would do something that he'd regret. I didn't exactly know the extent of his relationship with the boy Alex, but I could immediately tell that Damon needed to protect him, for the boy seemed too scrawny to protect himself.

Thinking about what Damon had discussed with me that night only seemed to put a damper on my mood, and as I made my way around the store, I tried to push him out of my mind. I knew that at that moment in time, there was nothing I could do, and he was certainly capable of taking care of himself. I had no reason to worry, so instead, I emptied my mind and continued walking until I saw quite a familiar face in the clothing section. I couldn't even remember the last time I smiled when someone was trying to make me smile, let alone smile unintentionally, so when the corners of my mouth twitched upwards, I was genuinely surprised. I found it just a little funny that she shopped on a schedule- almost every Tuesday at around eight.

I noticed her lifting herself up on her heels, reaching for the top hook that she surprisingly couldn't get to. She was tall but it seemed just out of her reach, and because I knew I wouldn't be of much help with my hands alone, I grabbed the garment hook hiding in the dressing room. I finally made it to where Ms. Parker was standing and reached above her, pushing the hanger she seemed to be getting at into the hook.

She turned to me with a frown and I had to smirk at the fact that she seemed off-put by my helping her. "I had it, Rebecca."

I shifted on my feet, lowering the hook and handing her the small piece of fabric. "I'm sure you did Ms. Parker.. maybe if you were just a few inches taller."

She folded her arms over her chest. "If I got any taller, you would have to look up at a ninety degree angle. Might hurt your neck, don't you think?"

"I thought only math teachers were boring enough to make geometry references outside of school. It's you too?"

Rolling her eyes, she put the shirt in her cart and smirked, not so subtly shifting our conversation to our night together in the hotel. "I'm pretty sure you of all people know that I'm not exactly a boring person."

"Why do you tell me not to bring up that night, yet you do almost every day?"

She just shook her head, "I have no idea what you're talking about." She paused then, seeming to hold a lot of reluctance before speaking again. "Do you mind.. getting that for me?"

"You really dislike asking for help, don't you?"

She sighed and shrugged, so I complied and retrieved the dress she had nodded her head to. I handed it to her and gestured to the toddler clothes in her cart, "I don't mean to be rude, but something tells me you might not fit into these."

"Are you calling me fat?"

I cocked my head, "Really? You are anything but that, Ms. Parker."

She smirked, "You flatter me."

"Have you lied to me Ms. Parker? I thought that was my thing. You're a mother?"

"Do I look or seem at all like a mother? I've told you once and I'll tell you again, the thought of having kids nauseates me."

I knew I should have been getting back to work, but for some reason I found myself actually wanting to stay. I can't say that I enjoyed the company of many people, and even if I did, I usually didn't talk to them. "Do you by any chance like to play dress up with American girl dolls?"

"I have a niece, Rebecca, but good guess. You should really be getting back to work."

I nodded, "I should be. Then again, no one around appears to need help so I have the time."

I took her silence as an opportunity to let my eyes wander. Though she may not have allowed herself the chance to look at me like she had been on that, for lack of a better word, interesting summer's night, I certainly didn't mind letting my eyes rest on her. It seemed that as time progressed, her appearance on that night became blurrier in my mind. It was hazy from the get-go, most likely because of the amount of alcohol I had consumed, but now I could hardly remember any of the finer details. All I could do was settle my eyes on her long, toned calves that although seemed muscular, still allowed her that sense of femininity that some women lacked, and day-dream about what she looked like under her usual blouse and miniskirt.

I was leaning against a shirt rack close to her when she glanced at me, catching me staring. I was never one to blush, at least not very easily, so I simply waited for her to either tell me to walk away or spark a brief conversation with me. I preferred the latter.

She shook her head at me, forcing away the knowing smirk on her face. "Something catching your eye, Rebecca?"

"I suppose I would be lying if I said you didn't."

The blonde bit her cheek, and though she probably could've appeared happier, she also didn't seem completely appalled by my comment. She let out a short breath, something in between a laugh and a sigh. "You know, I admittedly can't say that I mind very much, but you don't really seem to grasp that there's a line between me as your teacher and you as my student."

"Well when we've already crossed that line, I really don't see the point in paying any attention to its existence, do you?"

I was shamelessly flirting with her, not that she minded, but I seemed to surprise myself because I couldn't remember flirting with anyone in the past couple of years. This woman had gotten me to both smile and flirt, two things that I hadn't done in ages, without even trying, and it was beginning to tick me off. What was it about her, of all people? I wasn't a happy person, so for me to smile was big, and usually it took a tremendous amount of effort. I hadn't even genuinely smiled at Andy yet, and I actually did enjoy being around her. As for the flirting, I truly believed that the only reason my mind was telling me it was okay was because she was my teacher and she would never let herself get close to me, therefore I would never have to worry about a certain someone hurting her.

She shook her head, "I do Rebecca, that line is very visible in my mind, so please do not flirt with me. One of these days, you're going to get me into serious trouble."

I nodded. "Fair enough, I'll keep my comments to myself, as long as you do the same."

"I don't remember flirting with you?"

My facial expression mimicked hers, "Really? 'Something catch your eye?'" I mocked. "You were practically asking for it."

She stayed silent for a while, before speaking up. "If you say so."

I pulled my cellphone out of the pocket in my tan jeans and checked the time. Seeing that it was eight fifty-five, I decided I would bid my farewell. "Well as fun as this has been, I must be going now. Not even you can get me to stay a minute past my shift."

She let a faint smile play on her lips, but she seemed slightly put off at the same time. I was genuinely surprised by her nonchalant behavior because I wasn't picking up on any of the strictness that she usually gave people at school. "What did we just talk about?"

I went over my last comment in my mind and shrugged. "Sorry, that one just slipped. Have a good night, Ms. Parker."

She stayed silent for a while, but as I was turning to go, she brushed the streaks of blonde hair out of her face and pulled her lips into a thin line. There was the tiniest hint of a smile on her face. "You too Rebecca."

With that, I turned and made my way through the grocery store. I picked up my sweatshirt from Max's room in the back and then walked to the front, starting my long walk home. Shoving my hands in the pockets of my sweatshirt, I couldn't help but think about a certain blonde who just so happened to teach biology. My conversations with her never seemed to require much thought on my end, and although I can't say our conversations had been very light per say, they always flowed quite easily.

The minute I made it in front of my house, the thought of her seemed to completely flood from my mind. I knew something was off almost immediately and I wasn't sure why. An eerie silence stretched over my street, at least on the outside of each home, and I tried to ease my worry when I saw the door already unlocked. I gripped the handle and pushed it open slowly, hearing quiet sobs from my right almost immediately. I knew they weren't coming from Brian, leaving me to assume it could only be Sara.

I rounded the corner to see Sara shrinking back toward the wall while Brian followed, and I could already tell he was drunk. It was pretty safe to assume that he was always running on alcohol, but the fact that he reached forward and grabbed Sara, his wife, told me that he was intoxicated to a point that I didn't think he had yet reached in his lifetime. Sara's eyes held a considerable amount of fear, that much was evident, and she was voicing something between a sob, a shaky plea to stop, and an apology.

I immediately ran forward, and because Sara had pulled him off of me not long ago, I felt that I owed it to her to intervene. "Hey you filthy piece of shit," I growled, kicking his leg in a way that made his knees buckle. "Get the fuck off of her!"

Brian immediately whipped around and grabbed me by my shirt, pushing me up the wall. "Don't fucking touch me, Rebecca. This has nothing to fucking do with you."

"It fucking does when you're putting your hands on someone that I care about," I spat back, suddenly gaining the strength to kick forward and push him off of me. He wasn't angry at me tonight so he didn't bother resisting, but with every word, I ran the risk of making him angry. "Are you really going to hurt the one person who is crazy enough to put up with your shit?"

He started toward me but Sara reached a trembling hand forward and wrapped it around his wrist, stopping him. He pulled out of her grasp but turned to her instead, "Stop fucking crying Sara, you deserve this. Who the fuck do you think you are throwing out all of my god damn alcohol? I spent good fucking money on that!"

I shifted my stance and my jaw dropped in shock. Sara took my advice? Was she trying to force him to get sober because of what I said? I glanced at her to see her eyes already on me, and I could see the terror and desperation on her face. Brian had never laid a hand on her before, he had me for that, and this was something she wasn't used to. I wasn't sure what he had done to her before I arrived, but seeing her already broken expression, I knew it wouldn't take much to do both physical and mental damage on her. She loved Brian, and she wasn't going to stop him from touching her, so I had to take matters into my own hands. I had been through it before and I could do it again. After all, I had a bit more tolerance for such a thing than she did. Sara's only real struggle in life was staying away from alcohol, and she'd never been hit by anyone as far as I knew. That didn't need to change.

"Hey, get your fucking hands off of her! I... I did it, okay? I threw out your alcohol."

He slowly turned around, releasing Sara so that she fell onto the floor and growling at me. "Excuse me?"

I looked into Brian's wine refrigerator to see it empty, the beers that had been there before, gone. "It was me... your beer, your tequila, your whiskey, your vodka. I got rid of it all, not Sara."

He shook his head, his body beginning to tremble in anger. "Who the fuck do you think you are?"

"Beca stop-"

"Shut the hell up Sara," I whispered, and when Brian stomped towards me and pushed me against the wall, she scrambled to her feet and reached for the phone. I honestly doubted she would call the police, mainly because I knew she loved him too much to send him to jail and also because she respected my wish to keep this from my social worker. But the look in her eyes made me worry slightly, and as Brian forced himself on top of me, I shook my head at her. My eyes told her no and she was too scared to refuse. "Go to your bedroom. Now," I whispered. She was too innocent in all of this, and I was too, but I could at least handle Brian's behavior. Sara couldn't, and she didn't need to add to his victim list. "Go."

Her tears continued to fall but she put the phone down and wiped them away, never breaking eye contact with me as she debated whether or not to go. Finally when she saw that my expression wasn't wavering, she entered her room and shut the door reluctantly. I turned back to Brian, the scowl on his face evident.

"You have one chance to tell me why the fuck you would even think about touching my alcohol, and I swear to god Beca, if you don't make this good..."

I couldn't think of anything that would make him happy, so I tried pushing him off but he didn't budge. He slammed my wrists back against the wall and growled, and I shut my eyes. "I was looking out for my mother," I said, playing on the fact that he seemed to enjoy when I referred to her as my mother over her first name. "The alcohol is tempting to her and you know how hard she's working to stay away from it."

I assumed that there wasn't anything I could've said to ease his rage, because my words just made him angrier. "Well it was fucking mine, I spent a fucking fortune on all of it, and you had no god damn right to touch it."

He pushed against me and I tried to wriggle out of his grasp or move my feet to kick him, but he had me pinned against the wall. I knew what was coming next, and I really didn't see a way out of it. I brought it upon myself by defending Sara, but I wouldn't have went back and changed my actions even if I could have.

He pulled his fist back but I moved my head just in time, spitting at him. "Fucking idiot, do you want to go to jail? Not the fucking face.."

His drunken mind seemed to completely forget that what he was doing was something called child abuse, illegal, and could quite possibly send him to jail if I had the right proof. But when I spoke, he seemed to snap back to reality and refocus his attention elsewhere. I was thankful that he only seemed angry tonight, not at all looking for anything more than violence.

I braced myself for the pain, which inevitably came, but I repeatedly told myself that I could handle it.

It was better me than Sara.

***

The nights that Brian laid his hands on me usually always ended precisely the same way. He would drop me to the ground, wiping blood on his shirt without any remorse. Usually I wasn't able to tell if the blood was mine or his, because my head was usually spinning, my vision blurry. My impaired vision and feeling of nausea usually disappeared in the morning though, but this time it didn't.

I was beyond thankful that Brian wasn't home the next day. I skipped school, which I knew would start to become a problem if I let Brian continue to beat me this bad on school nights. Last year hadn't been so bad, compared to this, because he had only consumed ridiculous amounts of alcohol on Fridays and Saturdays. It seemed as though his addiction had intensified since then, and I wasn't sure how long I could keep going like this. I knew that I was mentally strong enough to endure his beatings on a daily basis, but accounting for the fact that I was getting little to no sleep and the physical condition that he left me in every night was awful, I was starting to get worried.

It was hard to get out of bed on Thursday morning, but I knew that I only had a maximum of ten or so days of absence before it would become a problem, as in, I would have to go to summer school or be held back. Brian had strayed from damaging my face this time so I didn't have to worry about anyone at school questioning me, but I was almost certain that I had a concussion. I vaguely remembered him banging my head against the wall two nights before, and my constant nausea and dizziness only confirmed it.

Walking to school was a challenge, mainly because I could only focus on the pain in my stomach and the ringing in my ears. My English class passed without anyone batting an eye at me, but Andy seemed to know that something was wrong in art.

"Hey Beca, where were you yesterday?"

"Uh... sick, I had a fever. Nothing serious though," I answered.

"Are you okay? Maybe you should have stayed home today too.. you don't look so great."

"Gee thanks.." I muttered, rubbing my forehead. "That's really reassuring.."

"I'm sorry I.. I just mean you should've stayed home and gotten some rest, I didn't mean-"

I shook my head, desperate for her to stop talking because it was beginning to make my head hurt. "It's okay Andy, you're right, I probably should have. Thank you."

When I didn't speak again, Andy got the point and refrained from sparking up a conversation with me. We silently walked to third period together and I saw Ms. Parker standing at the door, her hands behind her back and her legs crossed. We walked into the classroom without her giving us a second glance, and I tried my best to figure her out. She was stern in the classroom and didn't put up with anything even close to bullshit, but

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