Page 75 of The Plan

She turns to me and puts one leg on the couch. “You look like you haven’t been sleeping.”

“Have you seen a mirror lately?” I retort, and when she laughs I don’t even want to talk about everything that is bothering me anymore. I don’t care about the shit that triggers the abuse I was put through. I think I just found the cure toeverything,and it’s this girl’s laugh.

When she looks back over at me, she seems more serious. “I know you didn’t want to talk to me about your nightmares on the plane to your first game, but I shared what my nightmare was about the other day, so you know the rule.” She gets comfortable on the couch, but I don’t give in that easily.

“You only shared once I shared about wanting to get high.” She sits back in her seat at my bluntness. “So if I remember the rule correctly, you’d have to share something new for me to go again.”

She looks down at her hands and fiddles with her ring. I keep my eyes on her, and it’s obvious she doesn’t want to go first, so I do. “My bio mom—” I shake my head at my words because she doesn’t deserve a title anything remotely close to a mom. “Fiona, she used to… um…” I look down, unable to find the right words.

“My parents and I went out one night,” Vid starts, and I’m relieved she doesn’t make me go first. “It had been eight days since he last hit her. I know because I was actually counting.” I let my eyes meet hers, and she looks like she’s trying to keep it together. I admire her so much when she talks about tough shitlike this because my lungs can’t seem to fucking do their job at the thought of Fiona, yet she sits here and looks so strong.

“My mom had put her septum earring in, and she never wore it, but she did that day. The whole night, I couldn’t take my eyes off her nose. I thought it was the prettiest piercing.” I smile at her. She looks up to her mom so damn much. I never even met her dad, but I hate him for hurting someone Vid loves so much.

“Some random ass guy on the street complimented her nose ring, and God…” She shakes her head, and I feel her entire mood shift. “The entire drive home, he yelled at her to admit she was sleeping with that random guy.”

I shake my head but go still at her next words. “He ended up ripping it from her nose that night.” She looks down at her hand now. “I didn’t see him do it, but from how her nose looked the next morning, it was clear.”

“Vidia…” I don’t even know what to say, but she looks up at me and gives me the saddest smile; it shouldn't even be considered one.

“Your turn,” she pushes. “Don’t make me go twice in a row. That’s not how this works.” I give her a small smile, but I know it looks as gloomy as hers.

“The door was broken in our house, so it’d slam no matter how you’d try to close it, and it was heavy as fuck for a six-year-old.” I look down at my hands again as I go on. “She’d just get so angry, and no matter how much I’d apologize, she’d hit me.”

I feel her go still beside me, and I want to stop, but the words just spill past my lips. “Hit is an understatement. She’d beat the shit out of me.” I look up at her now; surprisingly, her eyes are on me. “These last few days, every nightmare I have is a new memory of her.”

Vid shakes her head softly as she watches me. “Do you know where she is now?” Her question throws me off, but I’m glad shedoesn’t offer me an apology or some shit. I think for a second but only shrug.

“I like to imagine she died a painful death. That she knew it was coming and whatever it was took her out slowly.” I wait for the shock to pass her face, but it never comes. Instead, she nods, almost like she understands. “Your dad?”

“Got into a bar fight and was beaten to death.” She chuckles softly. “Talk about irony, huh?” I shake my head, letting out a scoff.

We’re quiet for a while, and when I look back over at her, she looks so lost in her head. “Hey.” I reach for her hand, and when her eyes meet mine, they're glossy. “What is it?” She quickly blinks away her tears and shakes her head.

I want her to say whatever it is, so I offer something up first. I turn to the side and rest my arm on the top of the couch so the tattoo on my ribs is in her view.

“I remember the meaning of your tattoo.” My head snaps over to hers. “The crash she caused…” I only stare at her for a beat, but she’s serious; either way, there’s no other way she’d know.

“You remember?” I told her that story years ago, and it was, like, five in the morning when I did.

“Of course I do, Sire.” I feel a smile touch my lips, and she looks like she's about to say something, but I beat her to it and tell her I also remember what she told me that night. A small smile reaches her lips, and she nods in response.

“You remember the meaning, but I never told you why I got it here.” She shakes her head softly, and I take her hand, running her fingers along my side. I watch as a crease grows between her eyes, but just as her finger passes one spot, she looks up at me.

“Are those….”

“Yeah.” I drop her hand, but she keeps it in place, rubbing my scars as though she can rub them away. “If you ask her, she’d say it was an accident, but she used to burn me with her cigarettes.”

Vid shakes her head softly, her eyes still on my tattoo, or more so, what's hidden under it. “If I’m ever given the chance to ask her anything, I think I’d end up in jail.” I smile down at her, although her eyes aren’t on me. Vid is too nice to do whatever she thinks she’d get arrested for, but the thought of it makes me feel better.

“Your turn.” She lets out a sigh, and when she pulls her hand away from my side, I almost drag it back.

“When people found out that my dad was hitting my mom, they all thought she was so dumb for staying with him and—”

“She wasn’t,” I quickly counter. She looks over at me like my words mean everything to her, but it only upsets me more that no one else has told her that.

“He threatened her.” She goes on, “He said he’d kill me if she ever left him. She wasn’t an idiot.” She shakes her head, and her eyes fall to her fingers again.

“She didn’t marry and have a baby with someone who was hurting her. He started hitting her once I was older. She told me he was a completely different person before I was maybe five, and I just feel like if she never had me, she would’ve never had to—”

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