Page 4 of Hidden Truths

“I don’t give a shit what that bitch is doin’. She’s not anyone I want to associate with. Did she do this to you?” he asks me, not leaving my side.

“It doesn’t matter. She’s in the crowd you really belong with, Brock. I’m nothing more than your tutor. And we can stop anytime you want. I wouldn’t want the guys and her giving you shit about working with me,” I say, knowing I can’t stall any longer.

“I don’t give a fuck about any of them. Not that I even know what guys you’re talkin’ about. I’m not endin’ my tutorin’ sessions with you for any reason,” he states emphatically, his voice hard and cold as the door of the lecture hall opens once again.

“Brock, what are you still doing in here?” Karmen questions him. “You’re supposed to walk me to class.”

“No, I’m not, Karmen. I don’t know what the fuck game you’re playin’ but I’m not gonna be involved in it. Arabella is my friend and nothing you can say or do will ever change that. So, I suggest you run along now,” he says, never turning from me as I look between the two of them.

“Fallon isn’t gonna like this,” Karmen retorts, her voice angry as she glares at me.

“I don’t give a shit what he thinks. And he hasn’t once told me to stay away from Arabella. He knows she’s tutorin’ me. Run along, Karmen,” he says, finally pulling his eyes from me to look at her.

Karmen stomps her foot before turning and stomping out of the lecture hall. I’d laugh at her child-like temper tantrum, but it’s only going to come back to bite me in the ass. Brock disrespecting her is only going to make the target on my back even larger. It will be her excuse for the next attack she launches against me.

“Now, what the fuck happened to you, Arabella? And who left all those bruises on your body?” Brock questions me as I quickly try to close my coat so he can’t see the evidence of my abuse.

“It doesn’t matter. I really have to go, Brock. I’ll see you at tutoring tomorrow,” I tell him, trying to squeeze by the small space he left me to get through.

“Let me give you a ride home. I don’t understand why you don’t just stay on campus like everyone else.”

“I can’t stay on campus. There are things at home I have to take care of every single day. And I appreciate the offer of a ride, but it’s not necessary. I’m used to walking.”

Despite the pain filling me, I hustle out of the lecture hall and leave the building. Thankfully, we’re on the first floor so I don’t have to go down any steps. I’d probably fall flat on my face if I did. I can hear Brock calling my name as he follows me from the room. He wants answers I can’t give him. I won’t give him. No one knows my life and what happens with the exception of Mrs. Andrews. Even she doesn’t know the details, she only sees the aftermath of my abuse. The quicker I can get away from campus, the easier it will be for me to breathe. At least until I get home to see what kind of shape my mother is in.

Tutoring

Arabella

MY LAST CLASS of the day is one I enjoy thoroughly. I’m taking a psychology class and find it fascinating. There was one in high school that I enjoyed, but it was the very basics in the field. I like my professor and the patience he shows when people ask questions. Hell, he encourages us to ask questions because it engages our mind in what we’re learning. There has been more than one debate about certain topics already in class and we’re only two weeks into the semester. I haven’t participated in the debates because Karmen is in my class and I know she’ll go against anything I have to say. There’s no point in drawing more attention to myself whenever she’s around.

Now, I’m heading to the library to see if anyone would like my help with tutoring. So far, Brock is the only one who’s taken me up on my available time to help him. Everyone else is making it harder for the other two or three people offering tutoring services by not coming to me. They’ve actually started turning people away and those students still aren’t coming to me. Honestly, I don’t really care. It gives me more time to work and be home with my brother. However, I have gotten a planner specifically for tutoring so I can block out times and make sure nothing cuts into my classes or work schedule. I’m not about to lose out on money to tutor people who more than likely won’t bother paying attention anyway. Or bother sending the payment through to me. Yeah, I’ve heard that shit happens more often than not because there’s other things they’d rather use the money for.

The only offers I’ve gotten for tutoring besides Brock are those who feel I should complete their work for them. That’s not something I’ll ever do. It’s cheating and unethical. If someone wants help and to actually learn stuff in one of their classes, that’s one thing. But to have to add someone else’s workload to mine isn’t something I’m willing to do. If the other tutors do, that’s their burden to bear. Not anything I’m interested in getting paid to do. One of the guys wanted to pay me five dollars to write a five page paper for him. That wouldn’t even be worth my time between the research, writing, and making sure it wouldn’t be something that sounded like I wrote it. Some of these kids are so damn entitled and feel as if everyone ‘below’ them should be bowing at their feet and doing as they bid.

Going from my last class today to the library, I have no choice but to walk through the quad. It’s the very center of campus. I’d love to sit there between classes and read or study, but I won’t ever be caught in the quad. There are too many people there and I prefer to be alone. Less eyes and no one around to torment me. So, I’ve found other places to sit and enjoy the sun when it’s nice out. If it looks like it will rain or is too cold, I head for the library. The same thing I do when I have a chance to eat. Since I don’t have money, there’s no point in going into the dining hall for any reason. I try to bring my lunch every day I have classes. It’s usually something simple like a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. Typically it’s the only thing I have and it gives me something to eat until I can get home or eat again in a day or two.

Just before I get to the quad, which I’ve discovered is where everyone tends to hang out, I realize Fallon, Kash, Dante, Dash, and Braxtyn are sitting at the large fountain. It’s not the first time I’ve seen them holding court there, but today isn’t a day I want to run into them. Not after the interlude I had with Karmen and Collette. Karmen is there, hanging all over Fallon as usual. Collette is also there. She’s trying to get all up in Dash’s business. There’s a girl sitting on Dante’s lap, whispering in his ear as he closes his eyes in response. Braxtyn is talking to a few girls. Kash seems to be the odd man out. He’s sitting alone with his tablet in his lap. There aren’t any girls hanging all over him, he’s not paying attention to anyone around him, and whatever he’s looking at has his complete attention.

My heart breaks as I look at the guys. They’re living their lives to the fullest. Happy, laughing, doing what they want without a care in the world. Breaking my heart ten years ago hasn’t impacted a single one of them. I’m the only one who’s completely alone in the world. The one who went from having five best friends to absolutely no one in my life besides my baby brother and elderly neighbor. There aren’t any friends hanging out with me, walking with me from one class to the next or meeting between two of them. My life is either boring or filled with nothing more than abuse. It seems to come at me from all angles and I have nothing to laugh or be happy about. Why do they get to have the time of their lives and be happy?

Not being able to handle watching the guys hold court and everything, I lower my eyes so I’m looking at the ground in front of me. It’s not exactly something I should be doing with them, Karmen, and Collette around, but I don’t want to be caught looking at them. I’ll never let them see how damaged I am if I can help it. My steps quicken as I try to hurry past the group without being noticed. I don’t let the laughter from everyone or the broken parts of their conversations penetrate the walls I’m trying to build up around me.

“Look guys, it’s your stalker!” Karmen calls out. “I don’t know why that piece of shit can’t stay away from you. Or me. It’s like she wants to have her ass punished and beaten on a daily basis. She just can’t help but be drawn to men who don’t want her.”

Everyone starts laughing. I can even hear the deep laughter of the guys’ mixed in with the girls. Tears fill my eyes as I fight to contain them. No one here deserves to see any type of reaction or emotion from me.

“Don’t have anything to say, trash?” another female calls out.

If I were a betting person, I’d have to say it’s Collette. She’s just as bitchy as Karmen. It’s hard to believe we share the same bloodline.

I keep my head down and walk even faster to get away from everyone. I don’t know if it’s because she’s with Fallon or what, but Karmen doesn’t attempt to stop me from leaving. She just runs her mouth calling me names, talking about me stalking them all, and taking bets as to how long it will be before I try to get with one of the guys. Again.

I’ve never tried to get with any guy. They aren’t worth my time and there’s no one in High Point I’d give myself to. My end game is to get the fuck out of this hellhole and make a life for Vinnie and myself. I want to find someone who won’t hold my past against me, put me down, bully me, and understand that I’ll do whatever I have to in order to raise my brother and keep him away from my mother. No one in High Point will ever fit that description. Everyone here is only out for themself and don’t give a fuck about anyone else. That’s been proven repeatedly over the years.

I finally get far enough away from the group that I can no longer hear the insults against me. These people know absolutely nothing about me. Yet, they feel the need to belittle me and make me feel horrible about myself as often as they can. Despite not being able to hear the group, there’s a growing sensation of someone watching me. Their gaze burns into my back to the point I almost want to turn around and see who it is. However, that will only add fuel to the fire and ensure more shit is said about me. It will add to the fact that I’m supposedly stalking them.

Walking inside the library, I take a seat at a table not far from the main entrance. It’s where I usually sit when I’m not working with Brock. If I’m here with him, we’re usually in one of the study rooms with the door closed so we can get through our work. It keeps the noise out and no one can see inside. Brock usually tapes paper over the window so no one knows who’s in the room.

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