Page 5 of Addicted to Love

He nods but says nothing. As the bus pulls away, he gives me a wave but his brows are drawn together in a frown, his face serious.

* * *

Iblink, surprised when I approach my trailer to find Mark sat in the dark on a sun lounger outside. His face is paler than usual, and he looks tired, wearing an old jumper and dirty jeans. I wonder if he’s been doing drugs with his friends, I know he dabbled when he thought I wasn’t looking.

“I would have gone in, but your dad is smoking some weird shit and laughing to himself. He called me Bob when I opened the door.” He laughs, reaching out for my hand and pulling me onto the lounger with him.

I land in his lap with an oof, my back pressed against his chest as I get a hint of oil lingering on his skin. “Where have you been?”

Stroking my arm, he answers casually, “Around.”

Biting my tongue, I try to stay calm. He’s been gone for days, without a thought for me. “Where? With who?”

“The guys.” He shifts awkwardly. “C’mon, don’t be like this. Did you miss me? Is that it?”

Mark wraps his arm around my waist and kisses my neck sloppily, but it’s not like when Luke touches me. It’s heavy handed, and I flinch. There’s no tingle, no awareness. Just his hands all over me when I wish they weren’t.

I push myself up and stand before him, digging in my purse for that stupid scrap of paper. I thrust it into his face. “Here.”

He looks confused as he opens it. “Who the fuck is Luke Anderson? And why do I want his number?”

“It’s the guy whose arm you broke on Friday.” His already waxy face pales further,I wonder if he’ll pass out, I think to myself as I cross my arms and wait to see if he says anything. When silence continues to envelop us, I add in, “He wants to sue.”

Getting to his feet, Mark begins pacing back and forth, murmuring ‘fuck’ over and over to himself. “Fuck. Tammy, what do I do? I don’t want to go to jail. I can’t…”

“Take a chill pill and call him. He seems decent enough, I think he just wants to talk.” Not like how he wanted totalkwith me though. I got the distinct impression that the only words spoken between Luke and I would be murmured names as we fell further down the rabbit hole. And I couldn’t go there. I wasn’t going to get distracted by a rich boy with ocean eyes and a soft smile. “You look like you’re gonna ralph.”

He rubs his hands on his jeans, exhaling slowly. “Nah, I’m good. Just, freaked out. It’s a bit harsh, isn’t it? Suing me? Calling the cops?”

I pause, and it’s like I’m seeing the selfishness in full for the first time. He’s sweating now, stressed and panic clear on his face as once again he only thinks of himself.

“You broke his arm, Mark.” I say it slowly, waiting to see if I’ll see remorse but there’s nothing. Just fear. And panic. And then something else.

He turns sharply and glares at me, and in the dim light from my trailer, that’s when I realise how glassy his eyes are. “And what do you mean, he seems like a decent guy? How did you get his number?”

I take a cautious step backwards, as it sinks in that he’s high on god knows what. “He came to TapeWorld looking for you.”

“When?” he snarls, eyes narrowed at me like I’ve been keeping secrets as he conveniently forgets that he’d vanished off the face of the earth for the last three days.

“The last two days.” I rub my arm and pull my denim jacket closer around myself, it was starting to get chilly and the evening twilight was full darkness now.

“So what? Now you’re hanging out with him? I knew something was fucking going on!” His hands bunch up in his hair as he kicks the sun lounger, flipping it upside down with a growl of rage.

I let out a small laugh, the ridiculousness of the situation starting to sink in. “How is showing up at my work hanging out?”

Taking a large step towards me, Mark grabs me by my jacket and pulls me so my face is almost pressed to his. “This is your fault, for flirting with him in front of me on Friday. You caused this!”

Spit hits my cheeks and I flinch. This is too close to home, too much like my teenage years for me to stand there and take it. Balling my fists, I swing, catching him on the side of the head before either of us can say anything else.

He stumbles backwards, so I kick the back of his knee, forcing him to the floor. As I stand over him, I scream, “Screw you, Mark.”

I wasn’t a child anymore; I didn’t deserve to be treated like a problem by the people who claimed to love me. I had no choice when it came to my father, I had nowhere to live and most days he was passive with his anger. But I would not take it from Mark. I didn’t have to.

Stepping around him, I go inside, slamming the trailer door shut behind me with a huff. Tilting my head back against the flimsy door, I ignore his shouts and half-assed apologies when my father approaches. I snort, knowing that he’d only unpeeled himself from the sofa for one thing and one thing only.

Mouth twitching, he gives me a shy smile as he slurs, “Tammy, baby...your daddy needs to spot a little cash. Just a little, for um, for some groceries…”

It’s a lie. It’s always a lie. He’s never bought groceries, I doubt he even knows where the nearest store is. All he knows is where to score and what’s on the TV during the day.

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