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“Mistake!”
All the things she has said before. I’m able to block them out after a bit, but it doesn’t hurt any less.
Why couldn’t she love me? I was only five when everything happened, and she still blames me to this day. Standing there in excruciating pain, I start to whimper, unable to hold the noise in.
She stalks toward me and slaps me across the face. I go down, and without being able to catch myself, my head hits the tile.
The next thing I know, I wake up with a cast on my arm and my mother staring at me from the recliner in the living room.
“Doctor said your arm is broken.”
Her voice is flat, emotionless, like she’s telling me the weather forecast.
“You have to wear the cast for six weeks at least. Don’t think this gets you out of doing anything. I still expect you to do everything you did before. You won’t be lazy on my watch. Now, go clean up that fucking mess you made me make,” she states.
* * *
Pulling myself out of the memory, I look up to see their reactions.
In Kade, I see pity, which I don’t need. I don’t need pity fromanyone.
Mateo’s eyes are showing pure, unadulterated rage, and I flinch.
I see worry and frustration from Atlas.
Finally, I look over at Luca. I see everything in his eyes that his brothers had. There was something else there in each and every one of their eyes, but I couldn’t put a name to it.
I head to Mr. Thames’s desk and hand him the slip for being absent on Friday. Once he signs it, I head to my seat, keeping my head lowered the whole time to avoid the gazes from the class. I just want to make it through today.
One step. One breath. One minute. One class.
When I’m in my seat, Luca pokes me to try to get my attention, but I shake my head, trying to dismiss him. I need them to give me space today.
Tuning in to class, I realize that they started a book on Friday, and I don’t have a copy. Before I can think on it much longer, I see Luca get up, and he puts a copy on my desk. I look up at him and his eyes have that same look from earlier.
“Take it. I read it this weekend,” he signs.
Seeing what he signed, and not wanting to fight or cause a scene, I take the book and look forward again. When I open up the book, a note slips out.
I don’t know what happened, but all of us are concerned. You probably don’t want us to gang up on you and bombard you with questions, so this is us reaching out to you asking what happened. We are worried about you. We care about you, and there is no talking your way out of this, you understand. This is beyond falling down some stairs, Paisley. Please don’t keep shutting us out.
I take a deep breath.
Should I trust them with this?
I keep mulling this around in my head throughout English class. Suddenly, the bell sounds out, bringing me out of my thoughts.
Getting up, I see all four guys waiting for me at the door. Instantly, I’m on edge. I don’t want them confronting me here.
“Please not here. I don’t want a confrontation. I’ll tell you soon. I’m begging you,”I sign desperately.
I think I see irritation in some of the guys’ eyes, but it passes by too fast for me to really know. All of them look at each other, and it seems they come to an agreement when they all look at me and nod.
Not looking them in the eyes, I walk past them, heading to my locker to grab my Psychology stuff. Since I’m in a lot of pain, I’m just carrying class by class books today.
As I get closer to my locker, I see Quinn and her posse standing around it. Knowing what’s probably about to happen, I try to steel myself and get to my locker.
“Whoever did this to you should have finished the job. They would have done everyone a favor,” comes an all-too-familiar voice.
