Page 8 of Make Me Scream
“Yeah. Apparently, the bastard isn’t unobservant.”
“Well, no shit, Peris. He’s a coach,” Gabe drawls teasingly.
“Don’t start with me,” I snap as I bend down and throw my bag over my shoulder. “I’ll let you know how it goes, I guess,” I mutter before turning around and making my way toward Coach Johnson.
“What’s up, Coach?”
“Hey, Peris.” He finally looks up, big eyes downturned as he tries to appear serious. I barely manage to hold out on rolling my eyes. “I, uh, I just wanted to have that conversation about your foster brother…”
“Look. No offense, but it’s none of your fucking business,” I snap. “Sorry,” I add dryly when he narrows his eyes. “But it’s not. There’s nothing to talk about because there’s nothing going on. And he’s not my foster brother anymore, anyway—or he won’t be after today, so you don’t have anything to worry about. Does that clear things up for you?” I lift my brow, trying to ignore the way my chest is heaving a bit uncontrollably because I can’t catch my breath, and my stomach is curdling and twisting in a way that feels a bit like a tornado that’s flipped upside down.
When Coach simply nods, seemingly dumbfounded, I turn around as fast as I can and hightail it out of the gym and across the parking lot. When I finally make it to my car, I crank the engine and blast music in hopes I can drown out some of these vicious thoughts that won’tshut the fuck up.
The dash glows. It’s nearly six-thirty, which means Abel’s dumb-fuck mother will be there soon, so he’ll be there. Waiting. Just like I’ve been waiting for him.
All fucking day.
The heels of my palms slam into the steering wheel with such force, it sends pins and needles shooting up to my elbows, jarring me. “Fuck!” My head falls forward, throbbing in beat with my heart.
Thwumpthwumpthwump.
Gonelostgone.
Thwumpthwumpthwump.
The tell-tale prickling sensation coats my eyes, traveling down the bridge of my nose and into my nostrils. I sniffle against the sensation repeatedly, adamantly refusing to succumb to it. If I didn’t fucking cry because of Luke, I’m sure as hell not going to let some little runt ruin it all for me… even if it does feel like it’s all falling apart just like it was back then…
I jolt right out of my skin as my phone’s vibration splinters the thin air around me. I yank my phone out of my pocket, ignoring the way my chest is heaving in my peripheral as I press it to my ear.
Seeing Mom’s name flash across the front brings some clarity back to the forefront of my mind, and I steal some air back into my lungs one short inhale at a time. “Yeah, Ma?” I say when I feel like I can finally open my mouth without choking on words.
“How was practice, honey?”
“Was fine.” My grip tightens on the wheel.
“Peris…”
“Is he there?”Fuck. I shouldn’t have asked. But I need to know.
“Who? Abel?” Ma asks, sounding confused. “Yes, why wouldn’t he be?”
“Because he skipped practice, that’s why,” I snap.
“Well, all things considered, I think that’s reasonable, don’t you?” Mom retorts back just as quickly.
Iharumph. When she puts it like that…“Yeah.”
“Are you coming home? It’s… almost time,” she says slowly and softly, like she’s trying not to draw attention to what’s about to happen.
Like everything’s not about to change again.
For better… for worse.
Ah, who the fuck am I kidding. It’s always for the worse when Abel’s involved.
“Yeah, Ma.” I sigh loudly into the receiver. “I’ll be home. Love you. Bye.” I hang up before she can respond and reverse out of the lot. I crank the volume on an Eminem song, fingers tapping the beat as I drive aimlessly, drowning every thought, feeling, and sensation into the music until the clock ticks closer and I pull into the drive, and the weight of inevitably sits on my chest with surprising heaviness.
I don’t fucking like it.
