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“What the hell is going on?” Jonno shouts over the melee as Jude and I are now involved in a scuffle. Well, he’s trying to pull my dress apart to show them and I’m hitting him to stop.
“Look at her,” he’s shouting. “Look what that bastard did. Marked her all over. Probably on fucking purpose, the sick fucker.”
“Jude stop!” I shove him and pick up a spatula to hit him with.
“Did you know?” He's shouting at Jonno now. “When you found her, did you see him?”
“Yes,” he replies. His voice is firm but placating. “She’s a big girl, Jude, she can decide what she does.”
“Thank you, Jonno,” I state, nodding my head in appreciation at him and defiance at Jude.
“But you are a fucking mess,” Jonno adds, totally ruining the moment. “Why did you let him do that?”
Is he fucking kidding me? I can feel the fury bubbling in my blood. Why did I let him do that to me? Because I owe him an explanation? Absolutely not! I hit Jonno round the head with the spatula and move to whack Jude as well. They both put their arms out to stop me. “You make me sick,” I shout at them. “Why are you not laughing? Why are you not ribbing me for my antics? ‘Cos I’m a woman!”
I level Jude with a self-righteous glare, my shoulders heaving as I point the spatula at him, ready to hurl accusations a long-time coming. “It’s alright for you to come home with more scratches on your back and half your hair missing. Everyone laughs, good ole Jude, what a guy. HE—” I swing around and point at Jonno.
“Don’t start on me,” Jonno says, lifting his hands in a defensive stance.
“—sends people out of this house with fucking whip marks. Has whip marks on his back. Do you tell him off? DO YOU? You misogynistic tossers. No you fucking don’t. We all roll our eyes and laugh. Well WHY AREN’T YOU LAUGHING?” I’m really shouting now and tears of frustration are seeping from my eyes.
To top off my humiliation, James walks through the door, looks at me about to hit Jonno, my dress askew, takes in my body, and gasps out, “What’s happened, Mum?”
“Your father, James, he’s what’s happened. He’s done it,” Jude pipes up with a smug look on his face.
That’s it. I see red. My heart rate skyrockets as every muscle in my body tightens,and I lose it.
Screaming at the top of my voice, I launch myself at Jude, battering him with my fists, and the spatula. He’s got his arms above his head as I hit him and carry on hitting him. Jackson pulls me off him and carries me towards my room.
“Fuck you all. I’m never talking to you again, Jude. I’m leaving, you wanker. Get out of my house. Fuuuck! How could you, Jude? How could you?” I’m not being rational but I really don’t care. I’m completely justified in my ravings. I know it. And from the looks they’re sending each other, they know it, too. I start to cry, full blown sobbing as Jackson pushes me into my bedroom and shuts the door behind us.
I fall onto my bed and lay there, an emotional wreck. “How could they do that? Judge me? I’m a fucking woman, not a child. How could he do that?” I carry on crying. “Leave, just leave,” I beg him.
He sits on the bed with me and strokes my hair, as if I’ve not even spoken. He says nothing and just keeps sitting, stroking my hair. He moves up the bed to sit with his back on the headboard and pulls me into his lap, still stroking my hair, saying nothing. I sob for what feels like an hour.
Finally, Jackson kisses my forehead and says, “Let it all out, Evie, let it all out.”
I sit in his lap, quietly crying, going over and over the last twelve hours or so. “I’m moving out,” I say belligerently.
“You’re not.” He puts his hands up when I go to start arguing. “And I’ll tell you why. You love it here. James loves it here. We all love living here together. And, it’s your house.”
“Jackson, I never thought for a minute they would treat me differently. That they wouldn’t trust me to know what I want to do. That they would judge me for my choices. I’d never do that to them.” He pulls me a little tighter, reminding me I’m not alone, acknowledging my feelings and frustration are heard. “Fair enough, I’ve argued at times with them over their decisions, but I’ve never judged them. Not like they just did. I’ve gone along with the crazy shit they’ve both done.” His soft chuckle into my hair brings a small smile to my lips. They have done some crazy shit. “Even if I haven’t liked the stunts they’ve pulled, I’ve told them I didn’t, but I’ve never made them feel like shit for doing them. But that’s what they’ve just done to me.” And it hurts. It hurts so much.
“I know Evie,” he murmurs as he moves my hair away from my face. “I’ll speak to them about it. And you should, too. But when you’re calm. I don’t want to try to explain to Ma and Pa how you’ve accidentally murdered their son with a spatula.” He grins at me before turning sombre again. “You should also understand where some of this is coming from”
“What do you mean?” I look up at him through puffy eyes and a red nose. I am a very ugly crier.
He wipes away tear tracks on my face and says, “Jude, for instance, is scared to death of Kellen.” I scoff at him. “Yep,” he says nodding his head, “of Kell. He thinks Kellen could take you both away, you and James. He thinks you’ll leave and go to LA. You’ve been with Jude a long time, you have a business with him, you’re with him every day. I know he’s panicking about it. He’s not shut up since Friday, jabbering away any chance he gets. He’s terrified.”
I look at him, and shake my head. “He’s losing it. Why would I do that? James may go to LA, but James was always going to go somewhere at some point. University, band, take your pick, but he’s still James and he’ll always come home.
“Me? It was a one night stand, Jackson. Kellen is Marcus fucking Rock Star Russell. Lord bullshit Stockton. Does he think I’m deaf, dumb and blind? I see Kellen for what he is now, not then. That boy is long gone. My eyes are wide open where Kell is concerned. I have a job I love, a home I love, and people I mostly love—except today—in it. It would have to be something supernatural to get me out of it. He knows this. We’ve talked about it often enough, what happens if blah blah blah.
“Look at Amelie.” I point to him, “You go there, she comes here. She told me she knows she’s got to move onto the square with us and put up with us all if it goes any further. So why would Jude think it’s any different for me?”
“Kellen isn’t Amelie. You know him, he’s got other things he can’t avoid. Even though he likes to pretend he can.”
“Yeah well I’m not Amelie either, no offence.”
