Coming Clean (From the Damage)

  Copyright © 2012 Jasmine and Genna Denton DBA Sun&Moon Ink

  Cover Art by Allen Draughan

  All rights reserved.

  Coming Clean

  From the Damage #2

  By Genna and Jasmine Denton

  Chapter One: Pressure

  Alex Walker stood in the doorway of room 303 at the Discover-U center. When he’d signed up for the support group, the last person he’d expected to see was Kelly. His breath caught in his throat and his heart plummeted into his stomach as he stared at the beautiful blonde girl he used to love so much…the girl he still cared so deeply for. He thought about darting out the door, but it was too late.

  “No, of course not,” a pretty brunette said as she glanced at her clipboard. “What’s your name?”

  “Alex Walker…”

  “Alex…? Oh, I have you down as Alexis. Must be a typo. Come on in,” she said. “I’m Daphne and this is Brett.” She pointed to each person as she made her way around the circle to introduce him. “And this is Kay, Ryder, Meagan, Carmen, Gage and Kelly.”

  Alex gave a small smile as he sunk into the overstuffed easy chair. He sat next to another pretty brunette with a small frame; Kay, that’s what Daphne called her.

  “Do you want to tell us something about yourself, Alex?” Brett asked.

  “Um…I think…wasn’t Kelly talking? I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

  “Oh, of course, go on Kelly,” Daphne said. “What was it you told your mother?”

  Alex’s eyes widened. She told her mother? Alex felt an inch tall. Guilt and butterflies, no, pterodactyls of nervousness filled his stomach. Was Kelly going to bust him already? Tell the whole group how he forced her to get an abortion and then dumped her? Make him look like a total ass?

  Kelly looked away. “I…I didn’t tell her anything.”

  Daphne looked at her in confusion, and Alex felt a twinge of guilt. The last thing he wanted was for Kelly to clam up on his account. Daphne turned her gaze back to Alex. “What brings you to group, Alex?”

  What was he supposed to say? Surely he wasn’t expected to just blurt out his entire story within the first five minutes. But he needed to say something because the utter silence in the room—the way he could hear each click of the second hand on the clock, the sound of Kelly’s foot tapping against the linoleum, the smooth breathing of the girl next to him—was getting on his nerves. “Well…I saw the ad at school, so I signed up. Then I kind of chickened out—I mean, I thought I was okay—and now I guess…” He clamped his mouth shut, sure he’d just sounded like a complete idiot. “I guess I’m just having trouble…dealing…with some stuff that happened.”

  The counselor nodded, her expression compassionate and patient. He was sure she’d ask him to explain more, but she just waited for him to continue. When he said, “That’s all,” she turned her gaze to Gage.

  ***

  Alex walked quickly to his car, trying to reach it before Kelly caught up to him. He didn’t want to talk; he just wanted to disappear. Looking down at his black and white Converse sneakers, he wished they would go faster. Snatching his keys out of his pocket, he approached his cherry red Corvette.

  “Alex!” He heard Kelly’s voice yell. It amazed him how much tension she could convey with one shrill and high-pitched word. His first instinct was to stop, turn around, talk to her. But he knew that would only lead him to another fight, another circle of hateful comebacks, with no winner. Picking up the pace, he tried to get to the car before she could catch up to him. “Alex, stop!”

  Though the sound of it hurt his ears, he loved her voice, loved the fact that she actually wanted to talk to him for the first time in four months, but he wasn’t ready to answer her questions. Nevertheless, she stepped in his path, like he’d done to her so many times, forcing him to look at her.

  “It’s not gonna work.” Kelly placed both hands on her hips in a defiant gesture she’d used for years—the one that said she was pissed and wasn’t about to cool down any time soon.

  Alex choked out a small laugh and instantly regretted it when she looked even more offended. He knew why she hated him, but why was she mad now? What was she talking about? “What’s not going to work?” His voice sounded hoarse and scratchy from the cold that’d been festering for about a week.

  “This lame attempt to spend more time with me.”

  Alex crossed his arms and waited for her for finish.

  “You had to have known that was my group. My mom tells your mom everything. Did she put you up to this? My mother? That’s just like her to—”

  He waited for her to laugh, like it might be some kind of joke. She didn’t really think he’d joined the group to get close to her, did she? What kind of spoiled, self-centered brat would think something like that? What had he ever seen in her in the first place? Some days, when she gave him that venomous glare, he couldn’t remember a likeable thing about her. “I had no idea you were in there. I just—I just wanted to talk to somebody. I don’t know…to get help.” Ready to be rid of the entire ridiculous situation, he searched his brain for an excuse to bail. “Trust me, the last thing I wanted to do was run into you.”

  “Nice try, Alex, who put you up to this?”

  “Nobody put me up to this!” He leaned in close so nobody could hear him. “Nobody even knows I’m here, and that’s the way it’s gonna stay.”

  “God, you know what? This is just pathetic. You wanted to talk. Talk to a bunch of strangers about your feelings? Nice try, but I don’t buy it.” She took a step toward him, crossing her arms in front of her chest and cocking her hip to one side. With her blond hair blowing in the wind, strands of it sticking to her lip-gloss, Alex tried hard to ignore how sexy she looked. She was the enemy—he needed to believe that. It kept him from wanting to wrap his arms around her and plant a kiss on those shiny pink lips. “I’m really sick of you interrupting my life constantly, trying to get me back, trying to be in my face, trying some lame attempt at an apology. Now you‘re in my therapy group and you expect me to think it‘s just a coincidence? Whatever!”

  He clenched his fist, wanting so badly to slam it into something. “Newsflash,” biting his lip, he spoke in a low, clipped voice, “the world does not revolve around Kelly Foster. This has nothing to do with you.”

  Turning away, he shoved the key into the lock on the car door, then climbed in. The engine roared to life with a rumbling sound that made Kelly jump. Speeding away, he willed himself not to look back at her.

  ***

  Meagan tightened her grip on her backpack as she walked from her car to the mailbox at the end of the driveway. The drive was empty, which meant her parents weren’t home from work yet, and her brother was probably out with his flavor of the month. She stopped by the mailbox, pulled open the flap, and took out the mail. There was something for her mother, something for her father, something from the college for her brother, and a blank envelope. Curious, Meagan opened the blank envelope as she walked back up the drive, then stopped dead in her tracks when she saw the familiar handwriting.

  In big, bold letters the note read, I’m watching you, M.

  M. That’s what Seth always called her. Her breath choked itself in her throat and her hands started to shake as images of Seth’s wicked grin, his strong hands, the feel of his weight against hers, danced through her mind. She spun around in a circle, checking every inch of the block to make sure he was nowhere in sight. When she saw nobody, she ran into the house and locked the door.

  ***

  The next day, Alex walked into his bedroom and threw his book bag onto his bed. He sank down into the leather swivel chair at his desk and shrugged his letterman’s jacket off.

  Rubbing his
shoulders and neck, he tried to ease the pain he felt. Practice had been brutal. He hadn’t wanted to go at all. He’d been feeling sick all day, but of course, his dad had insisted. He remembered barely being able to breathe as they ran the laps and ran through the plays for next week’s game.

  Forcing the thoughts and stresses from his mind, he grabbed the remote off his desk and flicked his TV onto a comedy show. He leaned back and took a few deep breaths, trying to relax.

  His door swung open without a knock and Alex didn’t even have to look. He knew it was his dad. Allen stood about six-foot-two with a muscular build and squared chin. His dad had been the MVP when he was in high school twenty years ago. The senior golden boy went on to play college football and even got drafted for the Carolina Panthers until he blew out his elbow three weeks into his rookie year. Alex had heard the story so many times he could say it in his sleep—or a coma, for that matter.

  “Is your homework done?” Allen asked.

  “Yeah,” Alex said, still not looking away from the TV.

  “Well, come on, let’s go outside and work on your sprints. You were lagging a little in practice today.”

  Alex hated the fact that his dad was his football coach. “I was lagging because I’m sick, and I keep trying to tell you that. If I’m gonna be any use at all in the next week’s game, I need to rest this week.”

  “Rest is for the weak, now get up,” Allen said as he turned Alex’s TV off. Alex groaned. There was no point in fighting him. His father always got what he wanted.

  Two hours, a hundred-and-fifty push-ups, and a hundred sit-ups later, Alex was completely winded. Still, he tried to bench press the hundred-and-eighty pounds worth of weight his father’d decided he could handle. As much as he tried, he couldn’t get his arms to hold the weights more than an inch above the bar. He didn’t get it. He’d always loved exercise, found it a great stress reliever. Why did he have the instinct to avoid anything sports-related now?

  “Come on, keep going,” Allen said, his voice sounding gruff and bossy as usual. “You need to try to get up to two hundred. I can’t believe you’re not there yet.”

  “Dad, come on.” Alex tried to catch his breath. He sat up from the weight bench and took a big gulp of water from his bottle. Then, he suddenly remembered the test he had to take in Geometry tomorrow, the perfect excuse to bail on this workout. “I forgot...I have to study. We have a test in Geometry tomorrow.”

  “I’ll talk to Mr. Snyder,” his father said, pushing him to lie back down on the bench. Alex grunted. “He’ll understand.” His father added two more weights to the pole and spotted the bar as Alex tried to lift it. He could only do it twice before he needed to put it back down. His muscles were aching, like each one of them had been shredded. “Get up,” his dad said.

  Alex gratefully climbed off the bench and his dad took his place. Alex spotted the bar as Allen showed off how easily he could lift the two hundred pounds.

  Yeah, well, you don’t have a cold, Alex thought, watching with envy and embarrassment as his dad effortlessly did twenty repetitions.

  Standing up from the bench, without the slightest hint of fatigue or shortness of breath, Allen motioned for Alex to follow him. As always, Alex obeyed, knowing all too well they were headed out to the backyard. It was set up with hurtles, targets, and other stuff his dad forced him to do every day. He picked up a football off the short brick wall that enclosed the grill and tossed it to his dad. He prepared himself to play football for the next few hours.

  It was around ten o’clock at night when Alex finally climbed out of the comfort of the steamy, warm shower. He wrapped the solid white towel around his waist and walked over to the bathroom sink. Reaching for the hand towel that hung neatly on its hook, he wiped the fog off the mirror and looked at himself long and hard. He felt way more exhausted than he looked. He’d

  expected to find purple blemishes beneath his big blue eyes, but there was nothing—absolutely no physical sign of the damage his father was doing.

  Maybe it’s not so bad, he thought. Maybe I’m just a big baby. He sighed and opened the medicine cabinet, thinking of the studying he still needed to do. He grabbed a bottle of caffeine pills and popped two into his mouth, then cupped some water in his hands from the faucet to chase them down. Replacing the bottle in the medicine cabinet, he opened the bathroom door and stepped into his bedroom, tugged some boxers on, and plopped down on his bed with his geometry book.

  ***

  Locked inside the bathroom, Carmen let her towel drop to the floor, and then stepped onto the scale completely naked. She’d weighed her clothes once, and while they’d only equaled a pound, that pound made a difference.

  Taking a deep breath, afraid to look, she gathered her courage and glanced down, studying the numbers. A hundred-and-twenty-five. The same as last night when she’d weighed herself.

  She groaned, staring harder at the numbers as if she expected them to change. Knowing they wouldn’t, she resigned herself to stepping off the scale. She’d just up the dosage of the diet pills—they were herbal anyway. What could it hurt?

  Grabbing her purse off the sink, she fished around in it until she found the bottle and dumped four pills into her palm. She dry swallowed them, because even though commercials claimed water was free of calories, she didn’t buy it and was trying to cut out as many calories as possible.

  After that, she quickly dressed and headed downstairs. The stairs led right into the kitchen, where Renee was cooking eggs. They smelled delicious and made Carmen’s stomach growl. She inhaled the scent, wishing she could eat just a little bit without worrying about the extra ounces they would create.

  “Took you long enough,” Renee said, turning from the stove. She dumped the eggs onto a plate at the table. “You’ve got about five minutes to eat or you’ll miss the bus.”

  “I don’t like eggs,” Carmen said, watching the way the steam swirled from the yellow eggs.

  Renee furrowed an eyebrow. “Since when?”

  “Since always.” Carmen slung her backpack over her shoulder and started for the door.

  “Wait,” Renee said, heading over to the counter where she kept her purse. She pulled out her wallet and then hurried over to Carmen, grabbing a banana from the fruit bowl on her way. Shoving the banana into Carmen’s hand, Renee opened her wallet and then pulled out a ten dollar bill. “This is for lunch. Eat that banana, okay? Fruit’s good for you.”

  “Thanks,” Carmen said, although she felt guilty because she’d just taken another ten from Renee’s purse once Renee had fallen asleep the night before.

  She wanted to give her sister a hug—to thank her for being so naïve and clueless and letting her get away with anything—but she just left instead.

  ***

  Alex took his seat in Mr. Snyder’s geometry class the next day, hoping that the mere hour of study time he’d gotten in before passing out with his geometry book sprawled across his chest would be enough to help him pass this test. Mr. Snyder directed everybody to clear their desks and get out a pencil, and then he passed out the tests.

  Alex tried his best to answer each question right, but when he saw all the triangles and shapes with questions like “What’s the measurement of this angle?” he drew a blank. Damn it, Alex thought. I told Dad I had to study!

  The bell rang before he could even finish and Alex couldn’t help but be furious. He tried so hard sometimes, but his father never cared about Alex’s plans, or what Alex wanted to do. It was all about him, all day long every day. He scooped up his backpack, slung it over his shoulder, and dropped his paper off on the teacher’s desk on the way out of the room. He always dreaded this next class; it was history, the class his father taught.

  Chapter Two: Black and White

  Kay walked quickly to her locker, happy to see Zander at the locker right next to hers. That was the one good thing about things in school being in alphabetical order. Zander was always put right with her, his last name being Lancaster and hers bein
g Landers.

  “Hey, Zand,” Kay said in a singsong voice as she bounced up to their lockers.

  “Well, someone’s in a good mood,” Zander replied, pulling some books out of his open locker.

  “Yes, and you know why?”

  “Why?”

  She pulled some money from her pocket and handed it to him. “I’m officially done with those gross antibiotics and I can give you your money back, all in one day.” She smiled, opening her locker to exchange a history book for an English text.

  Zander laughed. “You know you didn’t have to give this back to me.”

  She winked at him.

  “But thanks.” He stuffed the money in his pocket. “So…” he began. He had the same look he had on his face every time he was unsure how to approach a subject. “I saw your mom leave this morning…with suitcases.”

  Kay shut her locker with a dreading sigh. “Yeah, she’ll be gone for about six weeks this time.”

  “Six weeks?” Zander exclaimed. “Why?”

  “She has to hit six different cities, said it would take about a week in each one,” Kay replied. They started to walk down the hall.

  “What are you gonna do about your dad?” Zander asked.

  Kay shrugged her shoulders, pretending not to care. “Pray I don’t make him mad, I guess.”

  ***

  Alex tried to pay attention to his History teacher—aka his dad—but he was so tired he kept dozing off. Hoping to keep himself awake, he opened the textbook and a picture fell out onto the desk. He picked it up, seeing it was the picture of him and Kelly at homecoming last year. He’d forgotten it was there. They looked so happy and perfect together—they’d been so happy and perfect together. As he sat there, staring at the picture, he remembered when she told him she was pregnant…

  She’d asked him to meet her in the band room between sixth and seventh period because it would be empty then. When he got there, she told him not to freak out, which only succeeded in instantly making him nervous.