Old Wounds: Little Battles Part 3

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"We're growing Brussels sprouts for Horticulture, or at least Elliott is, but I already told you that."

The table fell silent after that. It wasn't hard to feel the anger coming off of her. I didn't quite understand where it came from, since just moments before, it wasn't there. It was clear that their relations.h.i.+p was strained at best, and I wondered how their everyday interactions differed from what was on display for me tonight.

I would have thought she'd be much happier to be away from her mother, who'd obviously hurt her a lot, unless he hurt her too, but Mr. Young didn't seem like the type.

When dinner was over, he went to the living room where he turned the TV on and popped open a beer. I tried to help Sophie clean up, but she wouldn't let me. She took my plate and gla.s.s out of my hand and I found myself sitting at the kitchen table once more, watching her.

As I was leaving shortly after she finished the dishes, I wanted to reach out and pull her to me. I wanted the touch of her lips and her hands in my hair. I wanted to make her happy and see her smile.

But none of those things happened. She handed me back my bag, which she retrieved from her room, while I stood awkwardly by the door, and ended the night with a "See you tomorrow."

When I got home, I'd hoped to have an e-mail from her, but she'd said that she hadn't even read my reply yet. Instead, I reread mine just to see how ridiculous it sounded, before turning to mess around with my guitar.

Sophie, Why aren't you okay? Can I help?

My favorite smell is bergamot, which is a citrus fruit that's mainly grown in Europe. I've never actually seen one, but they use it in Earl Grey tea. Kate would drink it all the time and it smells really nice. I didn't watch cartoons when I was young because I wasn't allowed to. We could only use the television to watch the evangelists, and only during certain times of the day. Just like with dirt, he was particular about things like that. The television couldn't be on until five at night, and then it had to be turned off by seven.

Questions three through five confuse me, but I'll answer them as honestly as I can. I want to be friends with you because you're a good person and you're kind to me. I don't agree that you're not a good friend, and I don't know how "f.u.c.ked up" you are, but I'm the same way. I wonder if you realize that.

As for the bonus, I think everyone's done at least one thing they would like to take back. One small example was when I suggested to Jane that she step away from Trent just long enough to logically a.n.a.lyze their relations.h.i.+p. I would take back ever saying that to her. The words I chose were simple and direct, but she took them the wrong way. It was two years ago, but she still thinks that I was trying to get her to break up with him. That wasn't the case.

Now my questions for you: When did you know that other people's lives were different than your own?

Did you ever tell anyone about how you fell on the fork?

Do you like playing video games?

Why didn't you come to live with your dad sooner?

Are you happy?

Bonus: Did you turn in your job application yet?

I'll see you, Elliott.

On Thursday, I smiled at her in the hall and although my heart swelled when she gave me a small smile back, it hurt a little too. Her eyes were too gla.s.sy, her movements too slow and deliberate, and I knew she was high.

The ache in my heart was less noticeable when my brain registered pain in my chest and abdomen. Chris Anderson was apparently on the warpath and I was in the line of fire. His shoulder had connected with my ribs again and before I could let out a labored breath, he had me up against the closest row of lockers, his hand at my neck.

"She is so far outside of what a r.e.t.a.r.d like you could get, D-D-Dalton. It's pretty much only in your wet dreams that she'd ever touch you." He leaned in, his face just inches away from me. "Just so you know, I doubt she'll be thinking of you when I'm b.a.l.l.s-deep inside of her," he laughed, "but I'll be sure to tell you what she feels like from the inside."

Before he released me, his fist connected with the side of my torso and as much as I tried to keep it in, I grunted. "Go cry to your big brother, D-D-Dalton."

For the rest of the day, my ribs and side hurt. The only bright spot was Horticulture, where it didn't matter that I had watched Sophie leave the library and follow Jason Fox like she always did during Study Hall, because she slid a bag of Gummy Worms over to me across the Formica table top. As I ate one, I suddenly understood why doctors gave children suckers: The Gummy Worms made me feel better.

"W-w-will you c-come over today?" I had no reason to expect her to say yes since we hadn't planned on it, and it was basically an ambush, but I wanted to spend more time with her.

Her eyes widened. "Um, yeah, sure, but Jason's taking me to turn in my application."

I didn't want her to go places with Jason Fox. It was irrational because she wasn't my girlfriend, and even if she was, she was able to choose her own friends, but I couldn't help it. "W-w-we could take you there, if you w-w-wanted, and then go back to m-my house."

"Well, I already told him that we'd...that he'd take me."

I knew I wouldn't be able to hide my disappointment, but I tried to convince myself that I had no right to be disappointed. She would do what she was going to do. She had kissed me, twice now, so I should've been somewhat confident, but with her it was so hard to tell what she was thinking. She could very easily have kissed me last night and then not spoken to me for a week.

"I'll be over around four, okay?" I just nodded, happy that she was speaking to me. "Don't forget your Gummy Worms, Elliott," she said with a smile as she stood. "I'll see you, okay?"

I nodded again and watched her leave the room before standing up and finding my way to the administrative office to see Ms. Rice.

At home I checked out my side and torso, grimacing when I saw the bruising Chris's shoulder and fist had caused. Graduation was only a year and a half away. That thought was a relief on one hand, and induced panic on the other. With graduation, I would be rid of Chris, but I would be forced into the new and unknown environment of college, so I switched my thoughts to Sophie.

When she arrived at my house at a quarter after four, she smelled of pot and I knew that the reason she didn't want David taking her to drop off her application was because she wouldn't have been able to get high.

I wondered if she always got high, or if it was just because of me.

She wasn't inside more than thirty seconds before Jane grabbed her hand and literally dragged her over to the Wii, practically forcing her to bowl and then drive circuit after circuit on Mario Kart.

She was about as good at it as I was. Everyone told her as much and even Rebecca laughed when Sophie's avatar fell off the side yet again. She was still on her first lap when the others had finished the race.

She tossed the wheel to the side. "I'm done."

I was afraid that meant that she wanted to go home, but I was relieved when she stood up and took my hand, pulling me up as well.

When we were out of the game room, Sophie continued to hold onto my hand, but just barely. Her small finger was hooked around my index finger, but she broke our connection when we were in the kitchen. "Do you want me to cook you guys something?"

"S-Stephen will be h-home ssssoon."

"That's not what I asked," she said, not really sounding annoyed like she had when I'd responded to her about the coffee. "I can cook him something too."

"Robin w-will be here, t-too."

Sophie sighed, but shrugged. "I get it; the whole family. I can still cook you guys dinner."

"You d-don't have t-to, S-Sophie."

"You don't want me to?"

"N-no, I mean, y-yes." I sucked in a breath, worrying about how badly this all was coming out. "I-I-I mmmmean, if y-you w-w-w-w..."

She reached out and covered my hand. "Elliott, please relax. I just asked about dinner, okay? Nothing major. I know that I don't have to, but I don't want you to eat anymore bad take-out."

I couldn't help but smile and grip her fingers tighter. She was so beautiful. "W-w-we bought Brussels ssssprouts."

She beamed.

"It's official. Sophie's my new favorite person!" David declared loudly.

I looked at Becca, knowing that she'd react to his exclamation.

I was right.

She raised an eyebrow and then her face settled into a frown. "Well, I hope that Sophie likes six-foot-five eight-year-olds because she can have you then."

"Aw, Becca, I was just joking. You know that you'll always be my ultimate favorite person. This food is just really good."

She wouldn't look at him.

Sophie's eyes were focused on her plate, but she said to David, "It's just chicken and noodles. Don't go breaking up with your girlfriend over it. You can buy this s.h.i.+t in the frozen section, and it's probably better than this."

Jane gasped quietly, her eyes bugging out.

"What?" Sophie asked.

"We don't cuss at the table, Sophie."

Glancing around, Sophie didn't apologize, instead asking, "Why? They're just words and it's a table. I don't think it minds."

Robin cleared her throat while Stephen smiled and said, "You must enjoy cooking, Sophie." I immediately tensed up for her.

I thought she might've gotten upset or angry like she did when I had asked her, but to my surprise, she kept her head down and replied, "It's easy and people seem to like it."

"I'm impressed that a teenager can appreciate Brussels sprouts, and the squash you incorporated into the last meal."

I glanced over at Robin. She was studying Sophie, and I hoped against all hope that she wouldn't be clinical tonight. It was bad enough that I'd had to share her all night with everyone. I didn't want Robin to upset her by spewing shrink questions.

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" Sophie was looking hard at Stephen. "Most vegetables are low in carbs and low on the glycemic index. Plus, they taste good."

"How is your father?" Robin asked.

"Tom's fine."

"It's a shame he wasn't able to join us."

"I didn't...I mean, he wasn't invited. I didn't even know I was coming over until sixth period, and I didn't decide to make dinner until five-thirty or six."

"Does he not know that you're here?"

Sophie sighed and shook her head. "Does he need to?"

"You don't think he might want to know where his daughter is?"

With a shrug, Sophie said, "Why? He wouldn't care. He's at the firehouse all night."

For a moment Robin just looked at her, but then she looked over at Stephen. "I'll call him," he offered.

"Sophie," Robin began as he stood up, "your father is responsible for you. He needs to know where you are at all times, don't you think?"

I could see Sophie's jaw clench. "He hasn't bothered with that s.h.i.+t for seventeen years, why would he suddenly need to know now?" Then she set her fork down and pushed her plate away. Everyone was silent for a moment and it was uncomfortable. She should've just said he was at the firehouse to begin with. It would have saved all this from happening.

"S-S-Sophie?" She looked up at me. "D-d-d-do you w-want to-"

"Yes," she said quickly, standing up.

I followed suit, unsure if she knew that I was asking if she wanted to go to my room. Maybe she thought I was asking if she wanted to go home. Maybe she was tired of being here. Maybe Robin's questions made her want even less to do with me.

But Sophie headed to the stairs, not the front door, and I relaxed.

"How can you stand being around her all the time?" she asked as I closed my bedroom door.

"Sssshe didn't m-mean to upset you, S-Sophie."

"What is she even doing here? She's not your mom, and she and Stephen..."

"It's j-just easier b-because D-D-David is d-dating Rebecca, and they w-w-work sssso c-c-closely t-together."

"Whatever. It's just weird," she said with a sigh before sitting down on my couch. I wondered if I should sit by her. Was that acceptable in light of everything that had transpired between us? I wondered if she'd allow it, or if she'd even want me to. I didn't want to risk it, so I sat down on my bed, scooting to the middle and crossing my legs like she'd suggested last time.

"I e-mailed you last night," she said quietly.

I looked over at the computer. I should have checked it after school.

"I-I d-didn't read it yet. I'm sssssorry."

Sophie smiled and it made me feel calm. "It's okay. Do you want to do something on Sat.u.r.day?" My heart leapt! "Maybe just walk around town or something?"

"It's ssssupposed to sssnow."

Her face wrinkled up and she looked almost horrified. "W-w-what?" I asked.

"I've never really been in snow. I mean, maybe when I was too small to remember. I don't think I'll like it. How about you?"

"I-I'm from Ch-Chicago. There's l-l-lots of ssssnow there."

"I meant beyond that. Like you said in the e-mail, what do you think of it?"

I shrugged. "I d-don't really have an opinion on it."

"Are you aware that you only stuttered once in that sentence?"

I hadn't been aware, but I wasn't surprised. I always felt so much more comfortable and confident when it was just the two of us.

I gave her a half-smile. "Y-you make it easier f-for m-me to talk."

We'd been in my room for nearly an hour before Sophie stood up from the couch and stretched. She was so beautiful. I wondered if she knew that. I mean, really knew how beautiful she was. As her back arched and her chest jutted out, I forced myself to look away. The sight of her elongated body was going to end up causing me embarra.s.sment if I let it.

And I wasn't going to let it.

She glanced at my books, like she always did, her fingers gliding over the spines before turning to look at my instruments. Reaching out, she strummed the first guitar Stephen had given me, and then glanced down at my computer desk.

Old Wounds: Little Battles Part 3

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Old Wounds: Little Battles Part 3 summary

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