Part 5

Chapter 21

I walk into Jenny's house expecting her step-father to be standing right in the foyer puffing up his chest and giving me the evil eye, but he isn't. We're not greeted by any of her family members. I hear them off in the distance talking about politics, I think. There's no reason for me to be intimidated by that, unless they ask me about politics. They may not like what I have to say then.

"You look nervous," Jenny takes my jacket and hangs it up on a peg near the door. "My family isn't something that should make you nervous."

I think it's the exact thing that should make me nervous. Families can be weird and crazy. A good example of that would be my family. I would never have introduced Jenny to Laura Sidle. I also wouldn't have ever told my grandmother that I was into dating girls. That didn't seem like the thing to do, since she did decide to kick Sara out of the house because of it.

Jenny's parents have to be better than that. Everybody's parents have to be better than that. They at least have decided to let me come over for dinner knowing our situation. "Your parents do know that I'm coming, right?" I probably should have asked that before.

"Of course they know," Jenny puts her hands on my waist. "I wouldn't do something like that to you."

That's what she says now, but what happens later when she decides that lying to be about something is just easier than telling me it outright? What happens when she finally figures out that being around me is a lot more work than she needs to undertake right now?

"We were starting to wonder if the two of you were going to make it before dinner was burnt," Jenny's mother says as she walks past the front door and notices Jenny and I lingering there.

Immediately I put some distance between Jenny and I. There's no reason for her mother to think that we were making out this entire time. Then again, maybe her thinking that would be better than actually knowing what kept us. "I'm sorry about that, ma'am." I was taught manners. I'm trying to impress the parentals. "It's my fault that we're late. I had to settle a few things with my mother before we left. She always wants to make sure I'm safe." That wasn't a lie, I don't think.

"Oh well, I completely understand that. It would be wonderful if Jenny could take a lesson from you and spend a little more time talking with her mother."

I shouldn't even try to involve myself in that dispute. I especially shouldn't say anything since I know that the reason Jenny isn't around here so much is because she's around me so much. She's busy trying to pull my soul out of the dirt. That's a full time job and I'm not willing to give that time up just yet. It's selfish, of course, but I feel like being selfish.

"Mom," Jenny closes the distance between us that I have created, "I spend plenty of time at home. It's not my fault that you're working when I'm here."

"Jenny," Oh. The 'mom' voice is being used now. Maybe I should seek out Jenny's father. He can ask me those awkward questions. "You know you're not being fair. I have to work, you know that."

"Sara works a lot too," I don't know what I expect from saying that. It doesn't seem like I'm taking Jenny's side with that one and I think I need to take her side. "So I don't get to spend a lot of time with her." That's better, or judging from the look on Jenny's mother's face maybe it isn't so much better.

"Well," Jenny's mother says uncomfortably. "That's unfortunate. I'm sure I don't work as much as Sara does. My job isn't as nearly as demanding."

"What is it that you do Ms…" Now what's her stepfather's last name again? "Swanson?"

"I'm a real estate agent, dear." I must have gotten the name right then. Score one for the girl who hasn't gotten four feet from the front door yet.

"That's very interesting," I don't give a flip about real estate. Houses are houses and buildings are buildings. "Do you do most of your work in Las Vegas?"

I catch Jenny giving me a sly look, so she knows she owes me a thank you later. Who knew I could be so good at deflecting the focus on someone else to bring it on me. I'm usually the one wanting the attention to be going in a different direction.

"Well, I travel all around the state. Nevada is becoming one of the places to live these days." She has to know that I'm really not interested in this. "If you and Sara are interested in buying a home, I could recommend some very nice ones. We have quite a few on the market that would, I'm sure, suit your specific needs perfectly." Do I have special needs? "After dinner I can show you some pictures of the available houses."

Smiling about this actually hurts me. "That sounds great." Maybe I'll choke while eating.

"So is dinner ready?" Jenny finally speaks up.

"Yes," Ms. Swanson turns her attention to her daughter. "Your father was just setting the table."

"He's not my father," Jenny sounds irritated. "He's your husband."

"Tell me, Melinda," I don't like the sound of that. "Do you have as much of a problem with Sara's girlfriend as Jenny has with her stepfather?"

I look at Jenny knowing that I shouldn't answer this question. It probably would fan Ms. Swanson's fire when she hears I get along with Catherine a lot more than I get along with Sara. "Mom, that's not a fair question. Catherine isn't a thing like Damon. She's not an ass."

"Jenny, we've talked about you calling Damon names." It's kind of funny and all, but I didn't know that Jenny had such a problem with her stepfather. She seems okay with him most of the time. Maybe this is something I should ask her about later after I'm subjected to looking through pictures of houses that are for sale.

"I think we should wash our hands before we eat," I grab Jenny's hand and as best as I'm able lead her to where I remember the bathroom is. I push Jenny into the small half bath and shut the door behind us.

"So…" I lean against the closed door and look at Jenny hoping she'll give me an explanation without me having to ask for one.

"He cheated on my mom," She softly admits. "I just found out the other day. They didn't want to tell me, but I overheard them talking about it. They're going into counseling or something."

"Hey," I reach out to her and pull her to me. "Why didn't you tell me this before?"

Jenny gives me this look that I know must mean she didn't have the slightest opportunity to tell me anything since ninety-nine percent of the time we're focused on everything that's happening to me. It makes me feel kind of bad.

"It's supposed to be friends first, right?" I ask carefully.

Jenny gives me a strange look but nods her head. "Then that means we get to talk about you too. My stuff isn't going away anytime soon, so we can't push everything that happens to you away until it does."

She starts picking at a piece of string hanging from my shirt sleeve. "I just didn't want to talk about it yet and didn't want to give you more stuff to deal with."

"I know most of the time I'm a completely self-absorbed ass, but I think I may sort of really like you and kind of care about what happens to you too." That was really hard to get through and completely ineloquent. "So you kind of have to tell me these things so that I'm not the one always dumping stuff on you, because you're supposed to dump stuff on me too." I'm not sounding any better so I'm just going to stop talking, but at least Jenny's smiling now.

"If I ask you to beat him up for me, would you do it?" Maybe my words weren't as bad as they sounded in my head, although I'm pretty sure that they were.

"With or without the crutch?"

That gets me a short laugh and that's good enough for me. "So are you okay? I mean, I know that you're not okay but are you okay in a way that means we can walk out of this bathroom and cease the hostilities or do you really want me to beat him up?" When did I get so wordy?

Jenny sighs. "I do kind of want you to beat him up for real, but I think I can make it through dinner."

"Good." There's a knock on the door, which makes me jump away from it and straight into Jenny. We fall to the floor with me landing right on top of her, and that's when the door opens.

"Girls," Mr. Swanson's voice immediately fades once I imagine he gets a good look at us on the floor. "What are you doing?"

I roll off of Jenny and turn around to face the man. I can't read his expression, but I am hoping that he doesn't have a gun or anything. I wouldn't want to get shot at.

"She was standing against the door when you opened it," Jenny replies icily. "If you had waited for a response you wouldn't have almost given her a concussion."

"Oh." A strained smile appears on Mr. Swanson's face. "I'm sorry. I just wanted to tell you both that dinner is served. Come out whenever you both are ready." He closes the door again and actually looks a little hurt. He cares for Jenny. I do know that.

Jenny gets up off the floor and offers her hand to me. I take it and she helps pull me up. I want to tell her something, but I don't have the words to say it. Maybe when she's not so angry anymore I can risk telling her that she has a parent that cares for her and that she shouldn't crap on that. If Catherine cheated on Sara or vice versa I'm sure I'd be majorly pissed, but I'd like to think that some part of me would recognize that they still care for me. Who knows what I'd really do. Maybe I'd just lose all my faith in love. They are the only good example that I've got.

So instead of trying to offer Jenny some personal insight, I give her a quick kiss on the lips. It probably says more to her than my words could anyway.

Once I pull away from her I take a look around to see what has become of my single crutch, it's the only one I've got now. It's still resting against the doorframe. Go figure that it would remain untouched. I settle it under my arm and let Jenny lead the way out of the bathroom and when we reach the dining room, I realize that we never did end up washing our hands, but I guess that doesn't matter so much right now.

Instead of the Swanson's setting up the table with two people at the head, they have us sitting across from each other. Once we sit down the tension in the room is palpable. This might even rival some of the tension I have going on with Sara at times. It's possible that I just attract this kind of tension. I am the flame that the moth is drawn to. Well, at least I'm not the moth.

"This looks really good," I'm not even sure what this food is exactly, but it does look a little edible.

"Thank you, Melinda." Ms. Swanson smiles graciously as she moves the food on her plate around. So far, no one has taken a bite of anything. Personally, I'd like to see someone try to eat it so that I know it's safe.

Jenny doesn't look like she's particularly hungry at the moment and neither do either of the Swansons. I actually am hungry but I rather not eat foreign objects alone. What if Ms. Swanson is one of those passive-aggressive types that might poison the food to get back at her husband? I don't know these people well enough to say that isn't a possibility.

Finally, the food on Ms. Swanson's fork makes it into her mouth. It doesn't seem like she's enjoying the food, though. It actually looks like she's performing rote movements.

"So girls," Mr. Swanson tears a piece off of his dinner roll but doesn't put it in his mouth, "how is school coming along?"

Jenny doesn't look like she's going to answer and I don't care to share inane information with her stepfather. He doesn't really care about my schooling. "We're not in the same grade level," I tell him hoping that will be a good enough answer for him.

"You're not?" His voice is flat and I'm not entirely sure he's asked a question, but I'm just assuming that it is. "I could have sworn that you are." Now he just seems like he's talking to himself. "So are you graduating this year then?" Now he's actually looking at me.

"No." I shake my head. "I'm not technically a sophomore but that's the level I'm at. I'll be graduating next year."

"You're graduating a year early?" This peaks Ms. Swanson's interest. "I graduated a year early from school."

"I could have graduated this year, but I didn't want to go to college when I was sixteen. I'd like to play high school ball a little longer." Like Mr. Swanson I pick up my dinner roll and tear off a piece, but I do put it in my mouth and chew and swallow. I haven't heard of poisoned bread.

"You must be as an exceptional student as you are a basketball player," Ms. Swanson turns her attention to her daughter. "I wish Jenny had the same motivation as you do. She's a lot smarter than her grades reflect."

"Marianna, Jenny does fine in school." Mr. Swanson doesn't look at his wife when he says this. He's looking at Jenny.

I tear another piece of my roll off and stick it in my mouth.

"I don't need you defending me, Damon." Jenny snaps.

Mr. Swanson takes a deep breath and releases it through a long tortured sigh. "I know that, Jenny," he says carefully.

That's when my cell phone rings. "Excuse me," I smile and reach into my pocket and pull my flip-phone out. "Hello?" I turn away from the table and somehow manage to have my back turned to everyone.

"Mel, it's Sara." My savior's voice says from across the line. "I just wanted to call and tell you that it's safe to come home now."

"You need me home now?" I say loud enough so that everyone at the table can hear me. "I'm eating dinner with Jenny's family."

"I didn't say that," Sara responds confused.

"You're going back to work and need me to watch Lindsey?" Once again I'm loud enough so that everyone can hear me.

"Catherine is picking Lindsey up along with dinner. We're not going back to work tonight." Sara explains still completely lost as to what's going on.

"I'm on my way." I hang up the phone before Sara can reply and turn back to the three pairs of eyes that are looking at me rather intently.

"That was Sara," I make the obvious general announcement. "She needs me to come home to watch Lindsey so that she and Catherine can go back to work. I'm terribly sorry I have to leave so soon." I'm already up out of my chair. "Jenny you're going to have to drive me since you brought me here." Jenny's already up too.

We say a quick good-bye to her parents then are quickly out the door and in Jenny's car on our way back to Sara's and my apartment before Jenny questions me about the phone call I received. "So does Sara really need you to watch Lindsey?"

"No," I say through a sigh. "She called me to say that everything had been worked out and it was okay for me to go back home."

"So you lied to my parents?" I don't know if Jenny is happy or angry about this. I know that I'm happy.

"I did and I'm sorry." Apologizing is always good. "It's not a reflection of what I think about them, it's just that they were acting weird and it didn't seem like anyone wanted to be in that room but the only reason why they were staying was because this unseen force was keeping them seated and I took a guess that it was out of politeness for the guest and the guest wasn't happy bout it." Long winded explanations can be good too.

"I understand," Jenny says softly. "I wanted to run away from it just like everyone else. I'm glad Sara called you when she did and I'm sorry you had to sit through that."

I reach over and put my hand on Jenny's thigh. "Don't apologize. You've gone through way worse with me, maybe with a little less nagging but certainly with a lot more profanity, yelling, and borderline violence."

Jenny cracks a tiny smile. "Yeah, I guess you do owe me a lot more than just one dinner."

It doesn't take long before we're back in my apartment where there's Chinese take-out on the table and some movie playing on the television. This place seems like a calm ocean breeze compared to the freezing ice storm we just came from.

Jenny and I head immediately towards the food. "Sara called me and said to bring enough for four and you," Catherine says pointing to the food. "I can only hope I got enough."

"Very funny," I manage to reply from around a mouthful of egg roll as I stack my plate with food.

When my plate can't hold anymore I take a seat between Sara and Lindsey on the couch. "So what are we watching?"

"Raise Your Voice" Lindsey responds.

"Is that the one with Jessica Simpson?" I ask right before I put a forkful of vegetable fried rice in my mouth.

"It's Hilary Duff," Lindsey answers sounding somewhat offended by my question.

I shrug. "Hilary Duff, Jessica Simpson they're both talent challenged blondes."

"Hey!" How can Lindsey be offended by that? It's not like I released classified information or anything.

"Mel," Sara warns but she is smiling. I know she agrees with me.

"I'm sure this movie is brilliant, though." I say half-heartedly. "There's nothing like raising one's voice."

"Stop picking on your sister," Jenny tells me then takes a seat on the floor against my legs, but well enough away from my injured foot.

"I can pick on whoever I want to," I give Jenny a gentle little shove with my good foot.

"Shh." Somehow Lindsey got the remote and is now turning up the television.

I give her a look but keep my silence. Eating is more important at the moment anyway.

"So did you eat anything over at Jenny's?" Sara leans over and asks me quietly.

"Two pieces of a dinner roll." I answer just as quietly. "So it's good you called Catherine to get more food."

"You want to talk about what was happening?"

I take a quick look at Jenny who seems to actually be involved in the movie. "Maybe later."

"Whenever you want," Sara turns her attention back to the screen. Catherine walks behind us and runs a warm hand across my shoulders then takes a seat in the only vacant chair in the room with her plate of food.

So, I'm thinking that maybe my life has really sucked up until I moved in with Sara. I haven't had the best family life, really, but l can see what I have now. Catherine and Sara do love each other. I know that. They have problems, obviously, but at least they work it out. I'm sure Jenny's had a really great life and a lot better childhood, but I've gotta say that in the end, I think I got a good deal when it came to the final pair of parents I ended up with. We've still got a lot of stuff to work out, but at this moment I can say that I'm happy to be here.

Tomorrow that could change. I never know how I'm going to feel in the tomorrows, but I guess that means I have to hold onto today. So tomorrow if I get angry and maniac worthy, I can remember this moment and bad movies and maybe I can bring myself back from the anger. Now I have something to remember that isn't about abuse so maybe this forming new memories thing might actually work.



Chapter 22

It was bound to happen; I do know that. I've got a lot of buttons that someone can push and it was inevitable that someone would try and push most of them. Idiots run around all over the planet and chances were I was going to run into one of them.

"Are you her legal guardian, Ms. Willows?" The nice police officer asks Catherine who really don't look that happy at the moment.

"I'm as good as you're gonna get," she answers shortly. "Her mother is in court testifying."

The officer looks at Catherine for a moment but decides that it's okay to speak to her, I guess, because he starts speaking to her. "So are you aware as to what happened with Melinda?"

"I was only told that she was arrested for assault," she doesn't even bother to look at me and now doesn't seem like a good time to proclaim my innocence even though I am completely innocent. That can be proven in a court of law.

"We've dropped those charges, ma'am." That's the first I've heard of it. Shouldn't they feel free to tell me these things? I am the one who was arrested, wrongfully. "We have witnesses saying that Melinda actually stopped the young man from assaulting another young woman." He turns to me. "Even though she did use excessive force. The young man is in the hospital with a concussion and a broken cheek bone."

"He assaulted someone?" Catherine asks.

"Yes ma'am. He slapped his girlfriend and I do believe that Ms. Sidle here took objection to it. I'd say she took severe objection to it." I can tell he's trying to hold back a smile, Catherine doesn't bother. She doesn't seem so angry now.

There's some paperwork that needs to be signed before I can leave, but I'm not spending any time in a jail cell or facing charges of any sort. That means that the only people I have to face are Sara and Catherine and since hospital records are confidential they really don't ever need to know that the idiot ended up with more than a concussion and broken cheekbone.

"How's your hand?" Catherine stops me in front of her car and grabs my left hand.

I shrug. "It hurts."

"We need to take you to the hospital and get it x-rayed."

"I don't think it's broken," I tell her pulling my hand back.

She puts her hands on her hips. "Then wiggle your fingers and make a fist."

I look her directly in the eye and hold up my hand. I start to wiggle my fingers but cry out in pain as soon as any of them move. Maybe my hand is broken, but what does that really mean now? My foot prohibits me from playing in nationals. Writing might be a little awkward in the beginning, but I'm sure I'll get around that.

"We're going to the hospital." She walks to the passenger side door and opens it for me.

I could be stubborn and refuse, but my hand really does kind of hurt. I get into the car but I make sure to not look happy about it. If anything, I certainly can't look happy about it or even content to be actually getting away from the police station, because if I do then Catherine might get the stupid idea that I'm okay with her forcing me to get my hand examined by a professional.

When we get to the hospital I get seen rather quickly and am told within an hour that I did break a couple of bones in my hand. I'll need a cast and some pain pills.

It isn't until we're back at Catherine's house that she asks me what happened and almost as a side-note asks why Jenny wasn't around at the time.

"So what happened was, I was walking down the hallway at school and I heard Mr. Idiot of the Day yelling at this girl named Kelly. She's in my physics class." I don't really know her that well. "So I'm walking and then I hear the sound of a slap and I know it was a slap because… I'm very familiar with the sound. Then I make my way over there and see him raising a hand to her again. So, I tackle him to the ground and start wailing on him."

"And you broke your hand." Catherine nods towards my neon green cast.

I hold it up. "And don't even remember doing it."

"Is that scary for you at all?"

Is it? "I don't think so. I didn't kill him."

"When did you stop hitting him?" Catherine leans forward in her seat and reaches out to take my incased hand. "Did someone have to pull you off?"

"Yes." But should that really matter? I did a good thing. I stopped the violence and all. Kelly didn't get slapped again by someone who was bigger and stronger than her.

"You don't see a problem with that?"

I think Catherine is trying to make some kind of a point. "Not really."

"Okay." Catherine nods releases my hand and clasps her hands together. "Who did you know that hit people without stopping and probably got so angry that they didn't really remember even doing it?"

"Oh." I get this. "I'm nothing like her."

"You broke your hand and don't remember doing it," she responds gently. "You had to be pulled off of the guy so that you wouldn't kill him and that's not okay."

"I did a good thing," I snap as I jump out of my chair. "It's not like I would beat on some guy who didn't do anything."

"Unless he made you angry?" she looks so calm. She's accusing me of being like Laura and she looks so fucking calm.

"He's the one like Laura," I'm fighting to control the volume of my voice. "I wasn't beating on anyone for no good reason."

"If you hadn't been pulled off him you could have killed him." She says again but slower like I couldn't understand her the first time. "That's not okay."

"I'm nothing like Laura. Do you understand that?" My uninjured hand starts shaking at my side. I force it not to turn into a fist.

Catherine narrows her eyes and takes a quick look over my body. "You should go and try to take a nap." She gets up from her chair and takes a few steps away from me. "We can talk later."

"I'm nothing like her," I repeat then walk away from her knowing that running away at this moment is best for the both of us. I go to the room that is supposed to be mine when Sara and I move in. There's not anything in here yet except a bed, but that's all I need.

I lie down and quickly fall asleep. I'm woken up by the feel of eyes looking at me and the sound of a door closing softly. My sleep wasn't really that deep. When I decide to open my eyes, I don't see anyone at the door but I do soon hear Sara's voice downstairs.

I can't hear her clearly so I crack open the door and lean against the wall. She doesn't need to know that I've woken up because I bet she's talking about me. "She's sleeping." Sara sounds worn out. "Do you want to tell me exactly what happened?"

Catherine tells my story, amazingly close enough to my actual words but she does add something that I didn't, "She lost control, Sara, she needs help with her anger."

"She is getting help," Sara says a little defensively. "Don't you think it's normal for her to see something like that and go off?"

"No." Catherine replies flatly. "It's one thing for her to stop the guy and it's another having to be pulled off of him. Don't you see the problem with that?" Catherine's really focused on that one little detail.

"Of course I see the problem," Sara snaps, "and I will talk to her about it."

"I already tried and failed." Catherine sounds frustrated.

"What did you say to her?" Sara asks carefully.

"I just tried to point out to her that her anger is a lot like Laura's."

"You didn't?" Sara's voice drops.

"Sara, it's the truth. We both know it."

"No we don't." Sara enunciates perfectly. "I would never think that Melinda is anything like Laura."

"Honey, I don't think she's like Laura I just think that her anger is." I don't see the difference.

"I don't see the difference." Sara replies and rightly so I must add.

"She almost beat a seventeen year old boy to death, Sara." Is that Catherine's only argument? I really think she's over-exaggerating here. I didn't almost kill him. He was still breathing the last I got a chance to check.

Sara says something but too softly for me to understand.

"What do you mean you're not too sure you wouldn't have done the same?" Catherine asks.

"I'm not." Sara quickly replies. "If I had a chance to get my hand on anyone like Laura, like that seventeen year old boy, someone just might need to pull me off too."

"You face people like that all the time, Sara. You've never attacked anyone."

"But that's because I have rules I have to follow. If I was inappropriate I could lose my job. I have the entire team reminding me of that. What does Mel have to stop her?"

"How about us telling her that it's wrong?" Catherine asks exasperated.

"When you come from our history, it doesn't seem so wrong." Sara replies lowly. "I can't tell her that it's wrong."

"Sara, we both know I have a good amount of my own history. Eddie wasn't a prize and neither was getting up in front of assholes with my clothes off, and as much as I think those bastards deserve to pay for every last thing they've done we can't go out and try to kill them all. It's wrong."

Catherine was a stripper? Did I already know this? I don't think I knew this. I'm not too sure that I want to know this. It puts weird images in my brain.

"Maybe you're just a better person than I am," Sara replies, I think finally defeated.

"No I'm not." Catherine quickly responds. "Not even close." There's a pause then Catherine starts speaking again. "There's a distinct line between thinking you would actually do something and doing it. You don't attack every suspect because you know it's wrong, not because you think you could get fired. If that really was the reason it wouldn't be enough to hold you back."

"You have a lot more faith in me than I do." I think I've just officially lost the only person on my side.

"Maybe I just know you better." Catherine doesn't sound as adamant anymore.

"So what do I say to her?" By her I'm sure that she means me. That's what this conversation is about. They need to figure out how to deal with me, like I'm one of their stupid suspects.

"Well," Catherine blows out a breath of air, "don't call her Laura."

"I would never do that," Sara replies sternly. "I'm not too happy that you did either."

"Could have been the wrong thing to do," Catherine casually admits. "It certainly mad her angry fast. She even looked like she wanted to hit me."

I didn't want to hit her. I was angry and my mind probably wasn't working at its best, but I wouldn't hit her. We went through that before. It wasn't a pleasant experience for me. It wasn't a pleasant experience for anyone.

"She probably got angry, but I don't think she would have hurt you." Sara's at least back to defending me. But it's probably time that I started defending myself a little. I can't have Sara taking all my knocks from Catherine. I am the one that did the deed.

"You're probably right," Catherine says as I make my way slowly down the stairs. "But do either of us know that for sure."

"Can any of us be sure about anything?" I ask from the stairway. "Can you absolutely be sure that you will never hit me?"

"How long have you been listening?" Catherine asks in lieu of answering my question, although it really didn't need to be answered. It was mostly rhetorical.

"Long enough to be intentionally eavesdropping." Maybe I was listening even a little longer than that.

Sara walks over to me and gently takes hold of my injured hand. "How's your hand doing?"

"It hurts but not as much as it did before. The pain is kind of dulling." I answer loud enough for Catherine to hear me. I'm angry that she even bothered to compare me to Laura, but I'm going to have to get past that. I see what she was trying to get at. She was doing that tough love kind of thing.

"And how are you doing?" Sara asks still holding onto my hand.

How am I doing? Well I guess in Catherine's words, "I almost beat a seventeen year old boy to death." And maybe there is something wrong with that. My legs buckle. "But I'm not like her." Sara catches me. "I can't be like her."

Sara guides us to the floor. "You're not, okay?" She almost sounds convincing. Didn't think I'd ever need convincing. "You never will be."

I think it's a lot like I said before. We all are like our abusers but sometimes we just choose differently. This time, I didn't choose to stop. I was dumb enough, naïve enough, weak enough, conceited enough to think I was stronger than that. I thought I would always be stronger than Laura and even stronger than Sara. I believed that I was better, but it turns out I'm almost exactly the same. I don't know of anything else that could scare me more.



Chapter 23

What happened before, me hitting that guy, it seems like a displaced event in my active mind. I can't figure out where it fits in. I see myself doing everything I did. I'm watching from a third-person angle and it doesn't fit. I can't make it fit unless I admit that maybe I'm not as okay as I thought I was getting.

I'm talking to Sara. We actually talk these days in short bursts of courage that don't last longer than an hour tops. Catherine and I get along fine. Lindsey's like a little sister, I guess. Jenny is someone I'm still not sure about. I can't figure her out. I can't understand why she's not repulsed by who I am.

It's only been three month's since my 'original' parents died. Three months isn't a lot of time, I don't think. My life has completely changed in that time and maybe I thought I was changing with it.

Sometimes I think people have this idea of what they'll never do or could never do. They say they're not that type of person. Nothing could drive them to that one thing. I thought I could say that to myself too, until I realized what I'm capable of.

How many people can honestly say they could get angry enough that they would kill someone?

I can. I can say a lot of things about myself that are more than frightening. It's not like I could just run away from Laura Sidle and say that all I have left are the memories and the physical scars.

I want to understand who I am. My father was a rapist. Is that kind of violence hereditary? Does it become hereditary when a person is raised in the kind of home I was?

My life has taken a turn for the better, but I haven't. There's too much inside of me that I don't have a hold of yet. There's a monster inside this body. It lives in this vessel quietly and undisturbed for the most part, but it exists.

Jenny came over as soon as she heard the news that I was in a hallway brawl. We didn't talk much, but she did fall asleep in my bed and I'm debating whether or not I should wake her up and tell her to leave.

I can't even bring myself to lie in the bed beside her. I'm sitting in a chair staring at the bed watching the rise and fall of her chest. She's a good person. She doesn't have a monster inside, but she has invited one into her life. I don't think she knows what she's done.

I can't stay here. It doesn't feel right for me to stay here like this. I can't sit here and think anymore. I've got to get up and do something.

It's only ten o'clock right now. Catherine never went into work and neither did Sara. They're downstairs on call for me when I need them. I don't want to face them either.

As quietly as possible I get out of my chair and out of the room. I shut the door firmly behind me and slowly make my way downstairs. Sara and Catherine are on the couch watching television and I have no idea where Lindsey went.

Making sure that they don't hear me, I make my way to Sara's jacket where her car keys are commonly stored. It's probably going to get me in a lot of trouble taking her car and all, but it is possible that they'll never realize that I'm gone.

It is possible to drive with a bad left foot and a left hand in a cast. It's not the easiest thing I've ever done, but it's not impossible. Plus, the trip I'm taking isn't that far from Catherine's house. I could have walked, but that would be something I think about after I take the car.

Maybe I just want to make my life incredibly difficult these days. Either way, I'm at the hospital and making my way through the hallways in no time. I almost get caught a couple of times by the night staff but they've just assumed that I'm a patient. I guess walking with a crutch and having a cast helps with them thinking that.

I overheard the police officer who gave the orders to guard the guy's room say which room Erik was in. There's no police officer here at the moment, but I guess Erik isn't so much of a flight risk after all or maybe the Las Vegas P.D. is too busy to worry about a guy who got his ass kicked by a girl.

When I walk into the room, I can see that his eyes are open but I stay out of his line of sight. I don't want him to see me just yet. He doesn't look so good. They've got his head all bandaged up and his eyes still look rather puffy.

I did all that to him.

There's a small light in the room illuminating his body and shadowing mine. That's a sign if I've ever seen one, and I often choose not to see any of them.

I step into the light. When he sees me his eyes widen, as much as they can and he starts moving his jaw but they have it wired shut. He looks scared of me. He probably thinks I came after him to finish the 'job'. That would be something, wouldn't it? Melinda Sidle, handing out vigilante justice to bruised beat up teenagers in hospital beds. I've never thought of a better headline.

"Don't panic, Erik." I reach my good hand out for him but pull it back. He probably doesn't want me anywhere near him. I really shouldn't be touching him. That might be something that would keep me arrested if the police decided to come after me again.

"I'm not going to, like, smother you with a pillow or anything." His breathing calms down a little but he still doesn't look comfortable.

"I wanted to apologize." Neither of us really saw this one coming. "I'm not a bit sorry for stopping you from pounding on Kelly, let's just be straight on that." He looks confused. Well… he can join the club. "What you did was wrong and me stopping you was a good thing. I shouldn't have beat you up like that, though."

There's a chair conveniently placed behind me. I pull it closer and take a seat. "So I'm thinking that you probably had someone who hurt you like you were hurting Kelly. All the professionals say that kids learn stuff like that from their parents, boys get it from their dads and all that psycho-crap."

He tries to mouth something, but I don't think it was going to be a good word. "I'm not saying any of this to be like the psychologists or the social workers or the after school specials." His jaw stops movement. "I'm saying this because I had a Mom who would beat the shit out of me when I did something she didn't like. She did to me pretty much what I did to you and she always thought she had a good reason for it."

He's just looking at me now. "You were breaking Kelly like whoever was able to break you and that really sucks, not just for the two of you but for me too since I'm the one that stopped you. So, I am sorry that I hurt you like I did and I'm going to offer you something that you probably won't ever think about ever taking me up on, but the offers genuine." I run my good hand through my hair and let out a puff of air. "I'm going to offer you someone to talk to instead of someone to hit. I understand that anger you've got and I think since I've got like ten thousand second chances in the last couple of months, you deserve at least one. I don't want to see you hanging around Kelly or anything, but I'll be there for you, Erik, if you need someone." I get up from the chair and offer him my right hand.

He looks at me full of skepticism but he must see something in my eyes because he reaches out his hand and takes a hold of mine, "Stay." He says through gritted teeth. "Scared."

I can't stay here. I'm probably in enough trouble as it is. Jenny's probably woken up and alerted everyone that I'm no longer around. They've probably called the police and everyone else who might know where I am. There is no way I can stay here with him. He can handle one scared night in a hospital. He probably won't even have to go to jail next.

"I'll stay until you fall asleep." I squeeze his hand then release it and retake my seat. He looks thankful enough.

I try to relax in the silence, but this is weird. More thought should have definitely gone into this plan of mine. I could have made the trip in daylight with the accompaniment of my legal guardian. Then everyone would have known where I was and there would be no problem with me taking a car without permission.

"Talk." Erik's voice throws me off my internal monologue.

"Talk?" What should I talk about? "I've said a lot of things already." But he's not quite able to talk now is he? "I'll do my best."

It's crazy how when I'm supposed to talk, I can't think of anything to say. "So I've got this girl I'm kinda into." He doesn't seem surprised by the admission. "I'm not real sure what I'm doing though. You're probably not the best person to go to for relationship advice or anything, but I can't go to Sara either. It doesn't feel right talking to her about it yet and I can't talk to Catherine either. I have this picture in my head of Catherine trying to give a Sex-Ed talk or something." He's still paying rapt attention. Who knew my life was so interesting? "Neither of them knows a lot about my past. See, they probably think I'm more like Sara than I really am. I mean, she has this pure good person aura surrounding her that I don't think I inherited. Back home, I wasn't exactly chaste. I found an outlet to my anger and it wasn't hittin' people."

He's still fully involved. I thought they would have given him enough painkillers to knock him out cold. "I couldn't start off that way here because Sara might have kicked me out. I had to be upstanding. Jenny doesn't know any of this either, and I'm giving you perfect ammo if you ever decide to fuck with my life when you get out of here."

He shakes his head. "Won't." I can tell he wants to say more, but he can't. Every word looks like another kind of torture.

"I guess I'm going to have to take your word on that." I've got to trust the guy I just beat up. There's an odd kind of liberation in that. "So as I was saying, I was away as often as I could be for basketball. It was the only way that my adopted mother would let me leave the house. She did let me have that one thing, which I never quite understood. But at the tournaments, there were plenty of other girls there willing to stay with me. I still owe a lot of them a phone call." It's really nothing to laugh at, but it is funny because no one around here but Erik knows about this now. "I'll certainly end up running into a few of them if I continue to play basketball. That'll be awkward with Jenny and all."

I continue talking, but I lose track of what I'm talking about. I continue until I notice that those painkillers are doing their job and Erik is fast asleep. I take a look at my watch and am surprised to see that it's past midnight. When I get back to Catherine's I'm going to be more than dead.

Trying to make matters a little less bad, I drive back to Catherine's as fast as I can. Before I pull up the driveway I turn off the lights and ease into the spot Sara's car was before I took it. I would have turned off the engine too, but there is no way I could push the car back into the driveway. I can only hope that everyone is asleep and never bothered to notice my absence.

As soon as I approach the front door I get a clear view of Sara sitting patiently on the patio. The house is dark behind her. "I was starting to get worried."

Fate seems like something I'm fated submit to at the moment. I sit down next to her. "I would have been back sooner, but he wanted me to stay around until he was asleep."

"So you went to the hospital?" She isn't too surprised by this. "I figured you'd go there or out to do something self-destructive."

"And you decided to sit here waiting for what?" She doesn't look too worried.

"I decided to give you some time before I came after you. I would have preferred you asked me to take off, but ultimately I understand." The thing is, Sara does understand. She understands like Erik understood.

"So did you end up doing something self-destructive?"

Sara looks directly at me, and even though we're surrounded by darkness, I can see her perfectly. "I ended up drinking too much."

"I've stayed clear of the stuff thus far." I'm a little bit proud of that.

"Then what have you done?"

This is one of those moments. It's another one of those moments that move our relationship forward or backwards. "I fucked around a lot." It was fucking. It wasn't ever anything else. I couldn't even call it 'just sex'.

Sara's eyes widen a little bit, but she gathers her control back in record time. "That can be just as dangerous as having a few drinks."

I nod. "Can be. But I get tested regularly and was careful most of the time."

"It only takes once." It's not a true chastisement, just more of a statement. "Does Jenny know about any of this?"

"Nope," I shake my head. "I wasn't sure how to explain that one."

"Make sure you get tested again before you decide to do anything with her. You owe her that much."

This is an odd conversation. I'm not uncomfortable exactly, but this is weird. "I'll definitely do that."

"So when was your first time?" Her delivery of the question officially makes me fully aware she is completely uncomfortable.

"When did you start drinking?" One question deserves another.

"After I was kicked out," she doesn't even hesitate in her answer. "There was no way I could have gotten away with drinking around Laura."

Touché. "I was thirteen. The girl I was with was sixteen. It wasn't my best performance ever." A smile leaks out onto my lips, but the look Sara gives me reigns it right back in.

"How many 'performances' have you had?"

I'm not sure that's a fair question. "Enough." I shrug. "Probably close to twenty or so."

"Twenty!" Sara shouts then takes a quick look around and lowers her voice. "You're only sixteen years old." Now the parent is coming out.

"Maybe less." But most likely more.

Sara gives a disbelieving shake of her head. "You've got more experience than I do."

"More experience in what?" Catherine surprises us both by her sudden appearance. She looks like she's just woken up. So it could be safe to assume that she has no idea what we're talking about.

I respond with the first thing that comes to mind. "Injuries." I hold up my left hand. "I've had more injuries."

"Well that makes sense," Catherine replies through a yawn and sits down next to Sara. "You've done more sports."

"Or she could be more clumsy," Sara says to Catherine but grins at me.

"So is Jenny still upstairs?" I point upwards, not exactly towards my room but just up.

Sara nods. "She's sleeping soundly. I called her mother and told her that she was probably going to stay the night."

"Ms. Swanson didn't have a problem with that?"

"No. She said it was good for Jenny to have a night away from things." Sara looks at me like I need to offer an explanation, but it's time I get away from the two of them. The last thing I need is them double teaming me at this time of night.

I stand up and make my way towards the door. I open it soundlessly and move inside. Before I shut the door behind me, I hear Catherine ask Sara if everything is okay. I wonder how Sara is going to explain to her partner in life that her daughter took off and she didn't find the need to share.

Hanging out for their conversation doesn't seem like the thing to do at the moment. I make my way upstairs and to my room. Jenny's still sound asleep on the bed, but this time I feel a lot better about sharing that space with her.

I kick off my shoes and slide into the bed. Jenny turns around and faces me. "You work out everything?"

Deep down I knew she wouldn't have stayed asleep. She probably woke up the minute I left. "I did what I could."

She gives me a sleepy smile. "Good." She reaches over and takes my arm so that she can put it around her. "I don't like it when you hate yourself." She kisses my hand then relaxes her body against mine.

I'm feeling pretty tired at the moment. It seems like a good opportunity for me to rest before something else decides to blow up in my life and I have to discover some way to handle it all.



Chapter 24

As a rule, I stay as far away from a kitchen as I possibly can. I don't like cooking at all really for any reason. But Sara didn't try to hang me when I got home last night, and Catherine was relatively cool about picking me up from being arrested, and Jenny well she's just kind of here. I'm still not sure where Lindsey is hanging out these days though.

I've just finished setting up the table and starting up the coffee. The bacon is sizzling in the pan and even though Sara and I both won't touch it Catherine, Lindsey, and Jenny will. I don't like preparing meat, but I guess over the course of a lifetime I'll have to make a few sacrifices.

Lindsey is the first one that makes it into the kitchen, but she came from the front door of the house. "You've been gone all night?" I ask as I place a glass of orange juice in front of her.

"Mom said I needed to stay at Aunt Nancy's." I bet I'm the reason she did that. Catherine wasn't sure what was going to happen with me. I wonder if I surprised or disappointed her. "Do you know why?"

Of course she would ask me that question. I'm not going to lie about it. "I'm guessing it's because of me. I sort of beat a guy up yesterday at school."

Lindsey looks directly at me and blinks a couple of times until she says, "Oh. I heard about that." I cross my arms in front of me and look at her for an explanation. "Yeah. It was on the news last night. They didn't release any names or anything."

It was on the news? I can see the lead in to that story, 'More Violence in America's Schools, catch the full story on the 10 o'clock news'. Well the positive is that they didn't release my name. It's good being a minor, I guess. Hopefully the story will fade into the background when the next murder case hits the papers. This is Las Vegas, there's no possible way that my story could last past a day.

"So what did they say?" I take a seat across from Lindsey.

"Not much," Lindsey shrugs. "They said some guy was stopped by some girl from beating on some other girl."

"Sounds simple enough," I get out of the chair and go check on the bacon.

"I smell Coffee," Catherine's voice calls from the stairway. "Hey, Sweetie." When I turn around Catherine is pulling Lindsey into her arms. "When did you get back?"

Lindsey allows Catherine to give her a brief hug then pulls away. "Few minutes ago."

I can tell Catherine notices the brush off from Lindsey, but doesn't comment on it. She's getting used to Lindsey acting more and more like a regular teenager, much like myself. Catherine's realized for the next few years she's going to be a social leper to Lindsey.

"You're cooking," Catherine finally speaks to me as she pours herself a cup of coffee.

"Yeah. It seemed like something to do." I wasn't able to sleep that much and this is my way of paying some things back. I've got to get myself in order a bit.

"Well you didn't have to do it, but it is appreciated." Catherine takes a sip of her coffee and looks at the cup surprised. "Did you make this?"

"Yeah. I wasn't sure how strong you and Sara take it, but I figured old people like a lot of caffeine." I grin at her so that she knows I'm joking. Some people can be sensitive with jokes about their age. Catherine comes across like she could be one of them.

"You're lucky this is really good coffee." She accepts the joke and that makes me feel better about what I said. I should think more sometimes before I say things.

Sara comes down the stairs next. She says her hellos to Lindsey and gives the girl a kiss on the head. She then turns to Catherine and gives her a kiss too. When she looks at me and I lock eyes with her I can tell she doesn't know how to greet me and I don't think I could handle a whole lot right now.

"There's coffee waiting for you," I tell her. She gives me a slight nod and it's obvious to me she understands what I've really said. "Catherine says it's drinkable."

Sara gets herself a cup and our eye contact is broken. We've got a lot to work on with our displays of affection towards each other or maybe it's just me that needs to work on it. Sometimes it's really hard for me to be touched. I'm feeling like it's one of those days.

I've got the food on the table when Jenny finally makes her way into the kitchen. She looks at the food surprised. I guess she figured I was going to make cereal for everyone instead of the stack of pancakes, cut fruit, bacon, toast, and eggs I've bothered to prepare.

"Take a seat," I pull out a chair for her with a bit of difficulty since I'm still using one crutch.

She takes a seat and smiles up at me. "It smells really good."

I take my own seat and we all start diving into the ample food that I've prepared. Either they know not to spit out the food or really do like it, but soon most of it is gone.

"Mel you have a hidden talent." Catherine leans back in her chair. "How did you learn to cook like this?"

I'm not too thrilled that Catherine asked that particular question. I guess, though, that when someone cooks and people eat that's a common question that comes up. "Sometimes I needed to cook back at home." That seems like a vague enough answer that isn't a mood killer.

Even though I kept it vague everyone at the table except Lindsey understands that there's a whole lot more story between the lines of my one sentence. Maybe all three of them will ask me about it later, but now isn't the time for a heart to heart like that. This morning is about being together and me doing something nice. My tortured childhood is something we can share and grow on later.

"So have you two decided to go to work tonight?" It's Saturday and sometimes they work on Saturdays. I don't have to mess with school, which is a good thing. The gossip can die down over the weekend.

"We have to go in at our normal times," Sara answers. "So you're going to be watching Lindsey."

Catherine looks almost as surprised by this as Lindsey does. I hope to keep my expression neutral. "I can do that. I think this weekend I'm going to take a break."

"Are you sure you want to watch Lindsey?" Catherine asks, maybe even hoping that I'll say I don't want to spend anytime with Lindsey at all. Maybe my outburst yesterday got to her a lot more than anyone realized.

"If there's a problem or something, that's cool." I say as evenly as I can. "I don't mind doing it though."

"I want to stay with Mel, Mom." Lindsey adds her two cents. "She's a lot cooler than Aunt Nancy."

Yeah I'm a lot cooler than a woman who is like over twice my age. "I don't see a problem with it," Sara adds looking directly at Catherine. I think there might be some unhappiness happening in paradise and I just might be the cause of it.

"Maybe Lindsey should stay with her Aunt," I say before Catherine can respond. "I might decide to go out late tonight or somethin'."

"If you're going out, then Lindsey should stay with her aunt." Catherine says not to me, but to Sara. I wonder if they know the rest of us are still in the room.

"Mel shouldn't be going out late tonight anyway." Sara actually says this to me. "She shouldn't go out for about a week."

So I guess she's not going to let that whole taking her car thing slide. "For a week?" Catherine asks, clueless as to why Sara even said what she did. "Why?"

"She should take it easy on her hand and foot." Sara replies, this time turning her attention to Catherine.

"And I completely get that." I jump in before Catherine can ask any more questions. "A week indoors just might be what the doctor ordered."

Catherine looks curiously at both Sara and me, but she doesn't ask any more questions. That's a good thing. Sara and her can work out whatever they need to later. "Then I guess Lindsey can stay here with you." She still doesn't sound too sure about it, but she's risking looking really bad here. Eventually she'd have to come out and tell us all sitting here that she doesn't trust me with Lindsey. I'm not sure how that admission would fly over.

I mean, I completely understand why she would feel that way now. I completely would totally get it, but I don't want to hear her say that. It might hit one of my sore spots about being inadequate or something. It's amazing, but I think I need Catherine to have faith in me. I need everyone at this table to have faith in me. I might need it more now than I did before.

"I should be getting back home," Jenny stands up taking her plate with her. "I'm sure my parents are wondering what I'm doing. I should check back in with them." I think I might have just made up for that awkward dinner I had at her place.

She takes her dish to the sink and rinses it off, rather quickly. "I'll call you later, Mel."

"I'll walk you to the door," I get out of my chair and walk to the door with her. We step outside and close the door behind us. "I'm sorry about that little scene in there. I hope it didn't upset you too much."

"I'm upset that Catherine is being weird." She runs her hand quickly through her silky dark hair. "You'd never hurt Lindsey."

"I can understand how she feels." I mumble my head facing the ground.

Jenny reaches out and lifts my head so that I'm looking directly at her. "But her feeling that way hurts you. I don't want her to hurt you."

I'm about to deny Catherine making me feel anything, but Jenny covers my mouth with her hand. "Don't deny that you have emotions, Mel. That might be one of the worst things you can do."

I nod and Jenny moves her hand away. "Call me if you have any problems at home," I tell her. I still haven't forgotten how her home situation is at the moment.

This time it's her time to nod. "You do the same?"

"Of course." She leans in and gives me a quick kiss then is running down the three stairs of the patio and to her car parked against the curb. I watch her get in and drive away before I turn to go back into the house.

When I get back to the kitchen Sara is cleaning up and the Willows girls are nowhere to be found. "I had planned on cleaning up too." I walk to the sink and start helping Sara with the dishes.

"You cooked." She hands me a plate to dry off. "That means that you don't have to clean."

I take the plate. "So… I'm sorry if I'm making things weird between you and Catherine."

Sara's motions pause for just a second then she releases a sigh. "You have nothing to apologize for."

"I feel like I do." I put the plate I've dried down and turn away from the sink so that I'm facing Sara. "Of all the things that I can potentially mess up, I don't want you and Catherine being one of them."

"Mel," Sara turns her body to me. "Catherine and I may have a differing of opinion at times but that doesn't mean we're messed up."

"But when your differing of opinion isn't about the best laundry detergent and is about your child, I think it can mess things up." Parents get sensitive about their children, right?

"It might make things difficult at times, but it won't mess anything up." Sara reaches a soapy hand out and puts it on my shoulder. "Trust me," she adds with a grin.

I look at the hand on my shoulder then raise a brow to her. "I think I can do that, but I want you to know that you have to deal with me until I'm eighteen. Catherine is like for your whole life."

Sara's face drops and she looks very serious. "Mel, you're for my whole life too."

So what do I say to that? "That's cool." I turn back to the dishes and start drying off the one's Sara's already washed. I briefly wonder why Sara isn't using the dishwasher. It is one of those great time saving inventions.

Sara turns back to the dishes too. "Catherine will come around," she says almost absently.

I guess I don't have a choice but to believe her. "I'll hurt myself before I hurt Lindsey." I have to believe that I will at least.

"I know." Sara replies softly and I don't have anything else to say to her at the moment. We finish the dishes and go our separate ways.

I go upstairs to my soon-to-be room and find Catherine sitting on the bed. She's staring at the wall rather intently and there's obviously something going on in her head.

"You need something, Catherine?" I stand against the wall with my arms crossed in front of me. Well, I cross them as best I can with my left hand in a cast.

She slowly takes her eyes off the wall and focuses on me. "Can I trust you with Lindsey?"

I honestly didn't think Catherine would have the guts to confront me about this. Maybe I've misjudged Catherine on a few things. "I won't put a hand on Lindsey or repeat to her anything Laura ever said to me. I promise."

Catherine looks intently at me for a few moments more then nods her head. "Okay, then you've got my complete trust."

It can't really be that easy. "That's it?" My hands fall to my sides. "I say I won't do anything and you trust me?"

Catherine gets up off my bed and walks to where she's standing directly in front of me. "Of all the things you've done and said you've never lied. You may have omitted some truth, but you've never lied. Should I have a reason not to trust you?"

A good reason to tell her would be that I don't really trust myself, but I can't say that to her right now. I can't break the trust she's given back to me so quickly. "I'll do my best to keep your trust." It's not an answer to her question and we both know that, but Catherine doesn't seem too concerned about it.

With one more look at me, Catherine walks out of my room and closes the door behind her. I'm alone now, and I've got to figure out what has happened this morning. I probably need to think about more than that, but I really don't want to think about anything today.

There are too many things I need to figure out still. I thought everything was supposed to naturally resolve itself. I haven't found that to be true thus far. I've had to do a lot of resolving on my own. So I guess wonders never cease and there's no easy way out.



Chapter 25

Sometimes it's necessary to just come out with things and let them go as they go. It's time for me to throw my shit on the table and see what happens. It's time for me to move on a little bit. That means it's time for me to initiate a conversation with my mother about something neither of us probably ever want to talk about.

"Here," I throw some papers on the table in front of Sara. "Those are all the paper's the lawyer gave me dealing with Mom's and Dad's estate."

She chokes on the bottled water she's sipping on. "What?" She asks through a cough.

"It's everything from the estate. They didn't leave you anything, but I think that's because they never got over your whole gay thing." I can't help but let out a small chuckle. "In the end I guess I got the best of them."

Sara tentatively reaches out for the papers but pulls her hand back before she gets too close. "What do you want me to do with them?"

"Nothin' I guess." I pull a chair out and take a seat next to Sara. "I can't manage any of it until I'm eighteen. Since you're my guardian until that point and time that means you're in charge of it."

"What do you want to do with it?" She asks staring at the papers instead of me. This is probably the closest she's come to something of her parents in a while. She didn't really participate during the funeral. I got everything together and made all the decisions. She just had to show up to get me at the social services building.

I shrug. "The money will help with school and stuff, but everything else I would like see burnt to the ground."

"Were they still running that place?" We're both staring intently at the papers.

"The bed and breakfast?" Sara has been out of touch. "They sold it after it got out of hand for them. It ended up demanding too much of their time."

Sara turns her head and looks curiously at me. "So what did they do for money?"

"Got jobs. Laura ended up working for some hotel and Dad worked for some tourist thing." I lean forward in the chair and put my elbows on the table. "Them working out of home was the best thing that happened to me. They weren't around and that let me do what I wanted."

"Freed up your time to sleep with every girl willing, you mean?"

That honestly surprises me. I didn't think Sara would ever want to bring that up again. I guess I was wrong. "That didn't take up all of my time and I never took anyone back to the house with me. I knew what would have happened if Laura would have caught us."

"You would have been living with me sooner."

That's a possibility, but not a realistic one. I wouldn't have bothered to contact Sara then. I would have wanted to be stubborn and prove that I didn't need anyone to support me. I would have found someplace to stay. "We could hope that's the way it would be."

Sara stares at me for a moment, obviously thinking of the what ifs then nods her head. "We could hope."

"So you know though," I reach out for the papers and pick them up. I'm looking at them, but I'm not reading anything on the pages. "I never was like a sexual predator or anything. I mean, if someone wasn't into it or something I wouldn't force them."

"I know you wouldn't," Sara runs a hand quickly through her hair. "It surprises me that you have as much experience as you do. You're only sixteen."

"Sex was something I could control." That's the best explanation that I have. It's the only explanation that I have. She's kind of lucky she's getting an explanation at all.

"Can you honestly tell me that you don't think you emotionally hurt any of those girls you slept with?"

Sara must have gotten burnt in the past. "I never lied about anything. I was upfront about what I wanted. If they didn't get it, then I can't be blamed for that."

"I hope you don't run into any of them again, for your sake." Sara says looking away from me.

"It wasn't like that." I put the papers back on the table. "A lot of the women I slept with were well into their twenties." I'm thinking that might have been the wrong thing to say.

Sara turns slowly back to face me directly. "What?"

"You and I both know I don't look like I'm sixteen years old. I could easily pass for at least twenty, and a lot of people don't ask for IDs before they decide to fuck someone." I probably shouldn't be so defensive. Sara probably has a big problem with that statutory rape thing, not that I don't.

"Clubs and bars ask for IDs."

"That's easy to get around. You know that."

Sara shakes her head a few times. "Unbelievable," she whispers mostly to herself.

"Look, I'm willing to admit that some of them I probably did do wrong by, but what does that matter now?" I lean back in my chair and turn my head towards the ceiling. "It's in the past and if it happens to catch up with me, then I'll deal with it then."

Sara leans forward. "And how do you expect to deal with it?"

I keep focused on the ceiling. "I'll tell the truth. I'll tell them that I was using them as an extension to escape my fucked up childhood. I'll say I was using them as a way to control my life and my body and my self-esteem and that it had very little to do with them." I drop my gaze to Sara's. "I'll tell them every little thing that those pamphlets tell me that I'm feeling and maybe they can move on with their lives with a little more closure while I still try to figure out if I'll use Jenny in the same way."

"What do you mean use Jenny in the same way?" Sara asks carefully.

I close my eyes and rub at them with my thumb and forefinger of my right hand. "I can't say to myself or anyone else with any true amount of certainty that I won't twist my relationships into part of whatever rebellion I have playing out inside of me against everything that happened to me as I was growing up." My right hand falls to my lap and I open my eyes. "And I honestly don't see how you can either."

A spark goes off in Sara's eyes and I think I've said something that probably wasn't healthy. I honestly wanted us to get the estate stuff out of the way. I didn't have any plans to start a confrontation about anything. "What are you saying?" She asks slowly.

Maybe I can say I'm not saying anything. Maybe I can get up and walk away and avoid something that has already been avoided before, or maybe I shouldn't run away and should sit this one out. "A part of our past is realizing what it does to us now. You've got Catherine in your corner and that's an awesome thing because she's a great person, but what have you done to sabotage the relationship? What have you done to push her away so that she couldn't come close to your broken center?" My complete honesty has to be the best policy. "Me? I had or have a revolving door to my bedroom. No one gets a chance to stay long enough to get a chance at being anything more to me than a warm body."

There's an angry outburst on the tip of Sara's tongue, there must be. She's going to say something and I'm going to respond defensively and we'll have another fight. We haven't had a good one of those lately. I was starting to wonder where they went off to.

Sara's eyes have narrowed and she takes a few deep swallows. "You're right, Mel." What? "It took forever for me to trust Catherine. It took forever for me to let her get close to me. I was afraid to even let her touch me, because she made me feel things past my own self-loathing."

The muscles in my body relax and I feel like a deflated balloon, or better yet, I feel like one of those weird looking blowfish who've just realized they got all blown up over some speck floating in the water. "How long did it take before you actually decided that being in a relationship with her wasn't bad?"

"Honestly?" Sara releases a derisive chuckle. "I still have moments of doubt, not with her, but with me. I still wonder if I can do it and be nothing like my parents. But I know that if I let those moments take over my life again then I'm going to lose her and I'm not willing to do that."

I don't really have anything to say to that. I don't have any story to tell her that would fill in the empty space of my still undiscovered depths of anger and pain. I don't have a big realization that she has with Catherine. I have no idea what I'm doing with Jenny and I don't know how to figure it out. It's not like I can go up to her and tell her that I need to discover if our relationship is going to be about me wanting to control something in my life again or if it's me making an honest effort to try becoming someone who isn't as I am.

"I'm not superman." What did I just say and why did I just say it?

Sara moves her chair closer to mine. "No one is." She looks down at her lap. "When Catherine and I had been together for a couple of months, I told her about you. She told me we could go get you and take you away from them. She told me we should take you away. She said we didn't have to tell you anything."

"How long ago was this?" I'm not sure I really want to know.

Sara licks her lips and bites down on her bottom lip for a brief moment. "Two years."

I didn't want to know. "And you didn't listen to her because?"

"I wasn't strong enough." She rubs both her hands down her thighs. "I wasn't strong enough to walk back into their home and tell them I was walking away with you, and I wasn't strong enough to face you. I thought I was too messed up to even try and be a parent to you."

"And I reminded you of your rapist," I probably didn't need to add that in, but I'm sure that was part of her not being strong enough. Plus, I said reminded not remind. Maybe Sara will realize that little fact.

Sara drops her head. "You remind me of a lot of things Melinda and a lot of them aren't bad."

I cross my legs and my arms. I try to distance myself the best I can from whatever it is Sara is telling me. Despite what some might think, the truth hurts and in my case it hurts multiple times in multiple ways.

"You were two years old when I left," she says her head still turned downwards, "when I was kicked out. The first two years of your life, in a way, were the best of mine. When you were born, I knew from the moment I saw you that you were going to be able to be everything that I could never be. I knew you were going to be the best of everything I was, of everything the Sidles had to offer."

I feel like crying but I hold back. She's not going to make me cry, that's not what this conversation is supposed to be about. We're supposed to talk about the estate. It doesn't matter how she felt about me when I was born. That was a long time ago. I've grown up since then.

"Leaving you was the hardest thing I've ever done and I've regretted it ever since then, but I still look at you and I know that you're the best part of me."

I push my chair away from hers. "Where is this coming from? What is this about?"

Sara lifts her head and looks directly at me. "I need to tell you this. You need to know."

I shake my head. "No I don't."

"You do. You need to know because you're a better person than you think, Melinda." Sara closes the distance between us. I try to move away again but she grabs onto my good hand, stopping me from moving anywhere.

"All parents think their kid is special." It's weak but that's all I can come up with to say right now, besides it's the truth.

"That's probably true," Sara gives a half smile, "and I'm more than happy to be your parent who thinks that."

I open my mouth to say something but quickly close it again when I hear the front door open. Sara and I both turn to the door and see Catherine stepping through it. The moment she looks at the both of us, it's easy to tell she thinks she's walked in on something.

"Do you need me to leave?" She asks not even fully inside the apartment yet.

Sara looks to me. She's going to let me answer. "Nah," I shrug my shoulders, "You act as just as much as a parent to me as Sara does these days."

"Okay." Catherine closes the door. "Then what is it we're talking about?"

"I just threw some of the estate stuff at Sara," I try to answer as smoothly as possible.

Catherine looks between Sara and me. "Oh."

"I need to go to my room and look through some more stuff to see if I lost anything." I know I've got everything on the table and maybe both of them know it too, but they don't say anything as I turn around and walk away.

When I get to my room I close the door, for the most part. I leave it cracked open just a little so that if Catherine and Sara are going to say something then I'll have a chance of hearing it. I'm not really into this eavesdropping stuff, but they say more when I'm not around than when I am. I don't know if that's normal adult behavior or something, but I'm not a big fan of it. I know that the both of them talk to each other a lot. They've got that communication thing down pat, but I don't think they've got it down with me just yet.

A few minutes pass and I don't hear a single interesting thing. They're talking about Lindsey's classes and Catherine asks if Sara is going to go to the grocery store sometime this week, cause apparently we're running low on food supplies. Sara blames me for the shortage.

"Hey!" I call out before I think about it. "I'm not the only one that eats food."

Catherine and Sara laugh and I give up on my false search. I go back out to where they are and take my seat again.

"Couldn't find anything else?" Catherine asks. Her eyes have a slight glint to them, but I don't know what that means exactly.

I shake my head. "Not a thing."

"So how do you feel about this?" Catherine picks up the papers and starts reading them.

"It's all in Melinda's hands." Sara answers, cause the question wasn't directed at me.

"Isn't that a little unfair of you," Catherine says. "You're dumping everything on her."

"Yeah," I speak up. "Isn't that a little unfair of you?" I try and match Catherine's tone but it's a really bad imitation.

Sara doesn't look too amused. "Melinda, everything is in your name. It is literally all in your hands."

"That's easy to change," Catherine replies for me. "All she has to do is sign it all over to you."

Sara lets a heavy sigh escape. "Fine, then let's get this all worked out."

Catherine hands Sara the papers, which Sara slowly takes. I wonder why I didn't go to Catherine with the papers first. She seems to be on my side of the issue a lot, but then again I think she just wants to help Sara be a parent sometimes. Catherine, apparently, was on my side before I even knew her. I can't help but think that maybe if Catherine wasn't around that Sara would have never picked me up after what happened to our/her parents.

"Did you ever try and see me after you left?" Ending our conversation where it left off probably would have been for the best, but there are still answers that I want. There's still stuff I want to know and in order to get a chance to know it I'm going to have to ask questions.

Sara puts the papers down and she knows exactly what I'm talking about. She probably hoped that I would drop the conversation now that she's actually looking at the papers I threw down in front of her.

"Once I talked myself into going to see you. It was your first day of school. You looked beautiful and healthy and perfect. You weren't nervous at all. You walked right through those front doors like you owned the place. You didn't look like you needed me at all."

I remember that day, and I did take over that school on the first day. I wasn't going to hide in the shadows and not appreciate the time I had away from my 'parents'. That first day I knew I had a way out of the Sidle home. It's amazing how smart I became just after one day of school. Laura had told me to go to school and act normal; she said this as if I knew what normal was. She didn't want me to draw too much attention to myself but didn't want me to cower in the corner either. She didn't want me to give anyone any reason to believe that something wasn't perfectly okay in my world.

For the most part I listened to her, but I also figured out that if everyone was looking at me then everyone would be looking at Laura too. With everyone watching us so closely Laura couldn't possibly hurt me as much as she had been doing. That was my child's logic and it worked to an extent but that really only means that I got bruises where they didn't show. It means that Laura figured out another way to torture me without leaving marks.

During all this, the only thing I probably needed more than anything was my mother. I wish I would have seen Sara that first day. If I had, I would have grabbed hold of her and never would have let her put me down or brush me away. Seeing her would have… I don't even know if I would have recognized her.

"I was in college at the time," Sara says and I have to force myself to listen. "I deluded myself into believing that I could have a normal life, then. I thought I could participate in the real world without anything from my past getting in my way." She shakes her head in her own disbelief. "It ended up being that the single burst of confidence I had was torn down the moment I saw you. I wasn't good enough for you. I'm still not sure I ever will be."

Catherine's looking straight at me, urging me to say something. Probably urging me to disagree with Sara and to say she's good enough, but I don't know that. I don't know what good enough is. I can't be the measure of that. I don't want to be. "Well that's something you're going to have to decide."

Sara looks up at me confused. There's a question rolling around in her head waiting to be let free, but I don't think it's going to make it past her lips. Catherine's still staring at me. She doesn't know what's going on either, I don't think. Maybe she expected me to yell at Sara or maybe she expected me to run away, but I hear that people don't change if they continue to do the same things they did before. So, I'm trying to not do the same things.

When it comes to Sara, rationalization isn't my biggest skill. Sara represents all kinds of pain to me and I probably do the same for her. I reach out with my good hand and lay it on Sara's arm. "I'm not going to measure if you're good enough, Sara." I shrug my shoulders. "I can't decide that; only you can. But if it helps, then I think you're an incredible person." And that's all I can take. I drop my hand and get up from my seat. "I think we might need a break," I say as I point to the front door. I'm announcing my exit this time. "We can talk again later."

Neither of them stops me or calls out to me. This time I'm not running away angry. I didn't say anything that was too mean. I think I may have acted like a mature person. Still, though, after hearing all that I am angry at Sara. I'm angry and hurt and I really wish she had never left me. I wish she would have fought her parents and fought everything that happened to her. I wish she would have swept me away from all the bad things and taken me to all the good.

That's not a realistic wish. I know that. It was never realistic it could never be realistic. Life is a lot more complicated than that. The way she was, before, Sara probably wouldn't have been a good parent. She probably needed something to happen that would put her on the right track. Things work out like they should, right?



Continued…