One and Done - S. Briones Lim Page 0,23

I wouldn’t care if she did. Maybe then she’d finally see how much she really meant to me. “I’m sorry, Rocky.” I bit back another sob. “I’m also sorry for leaving you tonight. I was getting this for you. For us.”

I unfolded the portrait—the stupid picture that I risked everything for. The stupid sketch that caused me to lose it all.

“Wait, you stole it from the Art Department?” she gasped.

If this was really the last time I’d be seeing her, I really needed her to know the truth behind my feelings. Whether the universe was against us or not, I needed to take my stand. Taking one last breath, I lifted my chin and did my best to catch her beautiful eyes. “I…I needed to prove to you that I lo—”

“Rocky! Who are you talking to? Is that…Jesse Tyler! You better get out of here if you know what’s good for you.”

Ah, so there was Mr. Rossi.

A look of annoyance flashed over Rocky’s face. “Jesse, wait there! I’m going—”

There was some yelling and a bit of a scuffle that followed. Though I wanted desperately to barge into the house to make sure Rocky was okay I thought better of it, finally making my first good decision in a long time. Rocky would only be ‘okay’ if I wasn’t there. Her father was angry because of me—she was in trouble because of me.

I needed to leave, but that didn’t mean it would be forever.

“I’ll be back, Rocky.” Recalling the stupid pact I made with her that night, I added, “Remember my promise! We’ll leave together!”

Chapter 9

The edge of the paper fluttered in the wind, threatening to fly away. I tightened my grip and bit back a sob. Crying didn’t come easy for me. Even when I was constantly berated by my mother for being scum, I never shed a tear. Yet, seeing Rocky’s face crumble with defeat broke whatever emotional wall I had built around my heart.

I ran. I kept running, hoping that everything was just a nightmare. I sprinted through town ignoring the stares and the whispers of my narrow-minded neighbors and ran past the small sign separating the ‘good’ part of town from the ‘bad.’ As I neared my house I found myself wondering why I was in such a hurry. It wasn’t home—definitely not anymore. Regardless, I had nowhere else to go.

With my heart beating loudly, crying out in pain, I rounded the corner toward my house and skidded to a stop. My boxers, jeans, shirts—every single item of clothing I owned—was scattered on my front lawn.

“Mom! What are you doing?” I stomped over to the ripped window screen and peered past the loose flap to find my mother on a rampage. Her head was barely visible, hidden in my closet. “Mom! Stop it!”

She turned around furiously, eyes flashing wildly. Her hair was a ball of frizz caked with dry food and dandruff. “I am so glad to finally get rid of you, you no good bastard! Go! Go to fucking Charleston and go ruin your daddy’s perfect new marriage while you’re at it.”

Something inside me finally snapped. Without thinking twice, I lunged toward the window, pulling against the nylon grid. “Stop blaming me for your bullshit! You wonder why your life is so fucked up? It’s not me who’s fucked up in the head, it’s you! You want somebody to love you? Then stop loving that fucking bottle! You want to have a marriage that works? Stop using your husband’s money to feed your addiction! Get some help, you worthless excuse for a mother!”

Mom’s pale lips trembled slightly, and even behind her bloodshot eyes I saw pain. Now, I may not have been perfect, and though I was hurt, I still found it in myself to feel a bit horrible. That guilt was short-lived.

“You son of a bitch!” she screamed back, chucking a pair of sneakers toward my face.

I dodged the rubber soles just in time and smacked my tongue in anger. I refrained from reminding her that technically, she would be the bitch in that situation, and kept my face cold. “Have fun taking care of yourself, you leech.”

“Don’t you even dare set foot into this house again! Stay away from me.” An audible sob escaped her throat as she turned back to wrecking more of my stuff.

Feeling emotionally exhausted, I finally lost all my will to fight back. Swallowing twice, I took a few steps away from the window and asked, “When’s Dad coming?”

Instead of