I’m breathing heavy. I’ve had it. Sick mother or not, he needs to pick one of us.
Every time I tell myself I’ve had enough, he finds a way to suck me back in. He’s a black hole and I’m an asteroid. Once the asteroid comes in contact with the black hole’s gravitational pull, there’s no going back. I’ll more likely die or lose my mind than escape this relationship in one piece.
Rosa nears the edge of the hall and I try to shake her off of me. “No way,” she tells me. “You’re going to calm down.”
I scowl at Henry and shout, “You need to make a decision!”
Me or her. Me or her. Me or her.
He nods with an emotionless expression. He knows I’m right. He knows that he’s let this little threesome has gone on long enough.
And as Rosa nears the top of the steps, silently I pray that he makes the right one.
Me.
Chapter 15
“Love is like a mountain, hard to climb, but once you get to the top the view is beautiful.” ~ Daniel Monroe Tuttle ~
Outside, I pace in front of Henry’s house. I focus on the porch swing, with its iron chains and hooks and oak planks as the wind blows, tossing it back and forth. I think of how many times I sat on that swing with Henry and how if Henry picks her instead of me, it might be the last time I ever look at it.
Rosa watches me intensely. A look of worry takes over her child-like facial features. “You’re scaring me, Ry.”
I’m scaring myself.
Loud chatter and drunken laughter interrupts my thinking process. I stop mid-pace as several kids from my grade stroll across the perfectly manicured lawn to their cars. Two husky boys, linemen from the football team straggle behind the rest of the group and I’m careful not to make an
y sudden movements. They’re talking to one another and I’m trying to eavesdrop.
“Did you hear all that noise?” I don’t remember this boy’s name, but he has a bulging belly and a bald head.
The second guy is slightly smaller in girth and in height and he has thick orange hair that is sticking up—spiked. “Man, Henry is probably giving it to her real good.”
Uncle Fester brushes passed me and raise an eyebrow. “Wouldn’t you?” he asks orange hair. “If I had a girlfriend that looked like Callie Banfield I know I would be.”
“I know,” orange hair replies. “Have you ever seen how short she wears her cheerleading skirt? Ouch. Staring at that ass gives me a toothache.”
I turn toward Rosa, staring out as her pale face becomes a blur of white. My lips quiver. “He picked her,” I say mechanically. Tears stream down my cheeks, drip off my chin, and my knees buckle. Rosa is next to me in a flash and she catches me before I fall. I bury my head in the crook of her neck. “I don’t understand.” The words come out so hushed I can barely hear myself say them.
Rosa embraces me tighter, smooths back my hair, and whispers comforting words into my ears. “I know this is probably going to be hard for you to hear right now, but it’s his loss and if he’d rather be with someone like Callie over you, then he doesn’t deserve you.”
I know she’s right. I’m thankful that I have Rosa and I regret not telling her about Henry sooner. She’s so smart and strong and that’s exactly what I need right now. I need her strength because I’m so overwhelmed with hurt and heartbreak, that I might consider running up to Henry’s room and asking him why he’s doing this to me. Even if I walk in on them doing explicit things, I don’t care. I want an explanation—no—I deserve an explanation.
I head toward the front door and Rosa grabs me by the arm. “No way, Ry. You’re not doing it. You’re not going up there. I won’t let you.”
I’ve endured enough torture at Henry Garner’s hand, a little more isn’t going to kill me or will it? “Rosa, I have to know why.” I wipe the tears from my cheeks and more roll down them. “I have to hear it from his lips.”
There’s no room for speculation when it comes to love and heartbreak. It’s best to have every complication laid out in front of you. That way there is no room for error. If Henry tells me to my face that he picked Callie, there’s closure. Without hearing it from him, there’s nothing.
Rosa positions herself directly in front of me. “Riley, I’m not going to let you go up there.”
More waterworks and now my nose is running. “Please,” I beg then sniffle.
She shakes her head and at that point, I’m so hysterical that my whole body convulses. “You’re supposed to be my best friend. Why do you insist on making me stay out here? Why do you insist on watching me in agonizing pain?”
Rosa hugs me as I hit my knees and she falls to the ground with me, keeping her arms wrapped around me tight. It’s like I’m a recently stitched up would and Rosa is the bandage that’s holding me together. “I’m not supposed to be your best friend,” she tells me. “I am your best friend and this is what best friends do when they see their BFF hurting.” She rises to her feet and pulls me up with her. “They pick you up when you fall.” She traces the half-crescents under my eyes with her thumb. “They wipe away your tears.” Then she takes my face in her hands. “Then they look you in the eye and tell you that you’re better than that. Because you are. They tell you that you’re being stupid because you are.”
I suck back my tears and whimper, “Hey.” A half-whine. Half-shout.