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  He turns to look at Miss Eyelashes and says, “My summer was pretty good, spent a lot of time at my grandparents lake house. As for the party Friday night, I’ll be going as long as Abigail here goes with me.”

  If looks could kill, then I’d be so dead right now. The glare I’m getting from her is intense. Could this be anymore awkward?

  “I already told you, I am not going anywhere with you, ever. So please stop trying.” I focus my attention on Mrs. Shelkey and try my hardest to tune out my surroundings, and by surroundings, I mean Adam. It’s not easy, but I manage to make it the rest of class. As soon as the bell rings, I’m outta there without a second glance back.

  When lunchtime rolls around, I am grateful to see my best friend's face. I have missed her the first half of the day and I can’t wait to be surrounded by someone who doesn’t confuse me for a change. We go through the lunch line, trying to grab something that somewhat resembles food. You’d think they would serve us better food options, it’s like we are in prison. Oh, wait, we are in a form of hell, so I guess the food is acceptable. I settle on a salad and two peanut butter and jelly sandwiches; it’s hard to mess up a meal like that, so it was my safest choice. We find an empty table and sit down.

  “God, the first half of my day was such a drag,” Jessie says. “I can’t wait to go to college and move on to college boys.”

  I roll my eyes. Honestly, college will be fun and all, but it shouldn’t be all about partying and boys. I’ll have to keep her in check for sure when we get to college next year.

  “Yeah, mine too. I was late for first period, I ran into someone in the hallway, literally ran into someone.” I recapped what happened to me this morning, even the details about Adam’s flirting, hoping she could give me some insight as to what I should do.

  “Oh, he’s so hot isn’t he?” Jessie says dreamily. “But don’t get your hopes up, he has never dated anyone from school. All the girls, myself included, have tried to get him to ask us out. He always politely says he’s not interested. It’s interesting that he tried flirting with you, especially giving you a cute nickname,” she says with a confused look on her face.

  “Gee thanks, asshole. And Peaches is not a cute nickname.” I glare at her. She didn’t exactly have to point out that I’m not even remotely close to his type.

  “You know I didn’t mean it that way, I mean look at you, you’re absolutely beautiful, Abs. You just dress differently than anyone I know, and you’re rough around the edges, if you know what I mean,” she says with a smirk. “He seems sweet and nice, but I think he has a bit of a sad side too, just like you, so you might just be his perfect match and the one girl who can finally lay claim to Mr. Adam Alexander.”

  “I do not care to lay a claim to anyone, and it especially isn’t going to be Adam. He is cocky, arrogant, and it will never happen. So just drop it, Jessie, and forget I even told you. And I am not that sad,” I add as an afterthought. I know she isn’t going to drop this. She never just drops anything.

  “Yes, Abigail, you are sad. Not all the time, but I see it in your eyes. That’s how I know Adam is sad about something too, he wears the same expressions you wear a lot of the time. But consider it dropped. For now.”

  God, I shouldn’t have ever told her. She gives me a coy smile and returns to eating her lunch.

  “I think he’s coming to sit down with us, Abigail,” she whispers far too loudly. I glare at her and mouth at her to shut the hell up.

  I whip my head around and Adam and two other guys are making their way to our table. Even his walk is sexy. Something about it screams confidence. His eyes are locked on mine, and a smile is tugging at the corners of his lips. I will myself to look away, but I just can’t bring myself to do it. Jessie leans over and nudges me with her elbow.

  “Close your mouth, Abigail. Could you make it any more obvious you are drooling over him?” She is laughing at me. Brat. I peel my eyes away from Adam, then pick up a piece of my salad and throw it at her.

  “If that stains my shirt, you are so dead.” She scowls at me while wiping off her shirt.

  “Yeah, yeah. Your threats have never scared me.” I look up just in time to see Adam standing by our table. One of his friends has already taken a seat next to Jessie. He drapes his arm around her, and to my surprise she doesn’t make him move. She smiles up at him shyly while tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. It’s what she does when she gets nervous. Interesting. I look over at her confused, silently asking her to tell me what’s up with him. She just glares at me and turns her attention back to Max.

  “Hey Peaches, mind if I sit down?” He’s already setting his tray down before waiting for my answer.

  “Why did you ask my permission if you were going to sit down anyway?” I raise my eyebrow and patiently wait for his reply.

  “Touché. But I knew you were going to say yes.” He’s a cocky son of a bitch. I hate that I like it, but dating isn’t in the cards for me. My life is too complicated as it is. I don’t need to add a boyfriend to the mix.

  “Well, don’t be so sure of yourself, Mr. Alexander. I have no intentions of eating lunch with you today, or any other day.” I hear Jessie start to laugh.

  “Give it up Adam, Abby here will never date you, so you should just stop trying.” Jessie says matter-of-factly.

  “What about me? Will you go out on a date with me? I’m way better than Adam, just ask all the ladies,” his other friend says. I just sit there at stare at him in disbelief. What is up with guys hitting on me? “Oh, I’m Bryan, but you can call me whatever you’d like.” He winks at me while picking up a french fry. Ketchup drips down his chin and he wipes it away with the back of his hand. Charming.

  “Uh, no. I don’t plan on going out with anybody,” I quietly say.

  Adam’s eyes flare, and he gives a hard look to his friend; he has a slightly possessive look in his eye. One that says to back off. “You girls sure know how to wound a guy’s ego, but I have no intentions of giving up just yet. We just met, Peaches, and you are already going to blow me off? You know nothing about me, how do you know we won’t work out if you won’t give me a chance to take you out?” I think he is challenging me, but I am not going to budge.

  “I’m sure your ego could be deflated just a little bit, it’s pretty large. I’m surprised there is room for all of us at the table,” I dryly say. Adam throws his head back and laughs loudly.

  “I think we’ve got ourselves a live one,” the other friend says. “I’m Max, by the way. I’ve heard a lot about you.” I look over at Jessie and she’s tucking her hair behind her ear again. I need to know more about Jessie and Max, she has never once mentioned him to me. She usually tells me about all the guys she is into, this one must be different.

  “This is my friend Abigail I’ve been telling you about. Isn’t she amazing?” Jessie looks over at me and blows me a kiss. I refrain from rolling my eyes. She knows I hate it when she blows me kisses.

  I look around at these three guys, and I suddenly get nervous. I don’t like attention from guys. It makes me uncomfortable. I quit believing there were good guys out there a long time ago. I quickly stand up to leave, giving Jessie an apologetic smile. “I have to go do some school work during lunch, so I’ll see you later Jessie.” I turn to look at Adam and think carefully before I say my next words. I’m sure he isn’t a horrible guy, and I can admit that I’m attracted to him, but it just can’t ever happen. Maybe someday I can have a normal life, but not right now. “Adam, I meant it earlier when I said I wasn’t interested, so please stop trying. You don’t want to get mixed up with someone like me anyways, so do yourself a favor and walk away, because that’s exactly what I’m about to do.”

  Adam has his index finger resting on his lips, and he looks like he is trying to figure me out. I stare at him for a few seconds longer, wishing for about the millionth time that I had a normal life and that things weren’t so complicated.

  I look over at Jessie and she is giving me her sad smile. She un
derstands that my home life is screwed up, and she knows all about my past. I look back at her and she looks happy right now sitting next to Max. But I know she won’t ever let him in, just like I won’t ever let Adam or anyone else in. We both are screwed up in that way. A wave of sadness washes over me, because I want that to happen for us. I want both of us to find love, but the problem is believing that it exist.

  Jessie’s dad was a piece of shit when she was growing up. He would always tell her one thing and never follow through with his promises. Promises of big birthday parties, promises of trips to Disney world, and the biggest promise he failed to keep was his promise to stop beating on her when he came home drunk from my mother’s bar. When he would wake up the next morning and see the bruises on her body or her black eyes, he would feel guilty and promise her all these big things. But when night rolled around again he would go back to my mother’s bar and drink himself stupid.

  She doesn’t trust guys, and that’s putting it mildly. But then again, neither do I. Her dad died in drunk driving accident last year; he ran a red light and was hit head on by a semi-truck. When she heard the news she came over to my house crying hysterically, but her tears weren’t tears of sadness, they were tears of joy. She and I have a bond that not many people have. Our lives are more similar than I’d like for them to be and we deserve so much better than the cards we were dealt. After her father died, she moved in with her grandma. Her grandma is so old that she hardly pays any attention to Jessie, so she pretty much does what she wants, whenever she wants.

  Her mother died a few years before from a heroin overdose; she and my mother were best friends, they grew up together just like Jessie and I did. They also shared a nasty habit. When Jessie’s mom Samantha died, my mom took it pretty hard. She started using more than she ever has, bringing guys in and out of our home, and drinking more than she ever had before. She was already drowning in her addiction, but Samantha’s death pushed her completely over the edge.

  I was 15 years old the night my life changed forever. I’ll never forget the night she came home with one of her random guys from the bar. They both were beyond drunk and high on god knows what. I locked myself into my bedroom, turned my music up as loud as I could get it, and tried to block out what I knew was going on just a few doors down from me.

  I woke up during the middle of the night with a major urge to use the bathroom. I cracked open my door and listened to make sure everyone was passed out; I did not want to run into my mother’s latest boy toy. After using the restroom, I walk into the kitchen to get some water and after a few seconds my skin started to crawl. I can smell him before I see him, and I immediately get a gut-sinking feeling. He stands in the doorway of the kitchen just staring at me with glassed over eyes. He’s blocking my only way of escape with his massive body, and his arms look like they could crush me with one squeeze.

  “Well, what do we have here? You’re even better looking than your mother, where has she been hiding you all these nights when I come over?” He is looking at me with those glassed over eyes. Panic starts to overcome me, and my breathing starts to get shallow, and I know I am about to have to fight for my life. He slowly walks towards me and once he reaches me he runs his knuckles down my face, stopping at the base of my neck. Bile rises in my throat and I fight the urge to vomit or pass out, I’m not sure which.

  “Are you going to be a good girl and play nice, or are you going to put up a struggle? Personally, I like it when they scream and beg me to stop.”

  He has the most wicked smile I have ever seen a person wear. It frightens me to my core and I’m frozen in place. You know when you watch a scary movie and you keep screaming at the screen for the girl to just run away, just move your legs and get away from the danger? It’s so simple, just run away. Well, for the first time in my life, I know why the girls on screen don’t run away, I am so frozen with fear that my legs physically won’t move. My mind is screaming to run, to fight, to kick, to bite, but nothing is happening, my body isn’t responding. His hands are moving down my stomach now, and as he reaches the top of my pajama pants, I snap out of whatever trance I was in and I start to fight with everything that’s in me.

  He picks me up and slams me down on the kitchen table, all the while he’s trying to get my pants down. He’s trying to rip them off of me, and I’m kicking as hard as I can. I catch a glimpse of the look on his face and to this day it still makes my stomach turn. He is looking at me like he just won the fucking lottery, my kicking and fighting has turned him on and I know what’s about to happen. There is no way I can stop it. My mother is too cracked out to help me; I bet she can’t even hear me screaming. I stop moving, stop fighting, my body goes limp and I let my mind take me somewhere else, anywhere but where I am. The pain that takes over my body when he rips through my virginity makes it hard to block out what’s happening to me, but I do the only thing that has ever calmed me. I start humming a song I heard when I was a little girl. I start praying that he will stop, that his phone will ring and he will go answer it. I pray that anything would happen, but nothing does and he doesn’t stop. That night I lost any faith in god that I thought I had.

  Chapter 3

  “Abs, please don’t make me beg. Pretty please will you go to the party with me tonight? I need you there.” Jessie’s pout is full on right now.

  “Stop pouting, it isn’t a good look for you. Jessie, you know parties aren’t really my thing. I always feel so awkward and out of place when I go.”

  “Oh, please. You are one of the hottest girls I know, even though you don’t seem to think so. Even with your punk rock style, multi colored hair, and black attire, you look better than almost all the girls at our school. Aside from me, of course.” She winks at me and goes back to her task of getting ready. “Quit being so uptight and let your walls down a little bit and try to have fun and let's enjoy our senior year of high school.”

  I chunk a pillow at her head and mess up her perfect hair, which earns me a murderous glare. “I am not uptight, I just don’t like being in big groups of people. What’s so wrong with that?” I shrug my shoulders and throw my hands up. “Fine, I’ll go with you tonight, but if I get bored and the music sucks, I’m outta there.” My mind begins to wander towards Adam, and I wonder if he will be there tonight. I remember hearing about this party the first day of school. Why am I even wondering where he will be? I’m supposed to not care.

  “Yay, you’re the best, you know that, right?” She squeals and pulls me into a tight hug.

  “Yeah, I know. But you owe me. I’m dragging you to a concert tomorrow night, and I don’t want to hear any complaining.” She hates the type of music I like, so bringing her to a show is a perfect way to pay me back.

  “Ugh, fine. I’ll go to one show, but that’s it. I can’t stand that shit you listen to. I don’t understand why you like it. If I can’t shake my ass to the music and if it doesn’t have a good beat to get me dancing, then I just can’t get into it.” I pretend to ignore her insult about my music. Music that isn’t played by an instrument just isn’t music if you ask me. Sure, DJ’s can create pretty cool beats with their little spin machine things I guess, but real music is made with instruments, and lyrics, and words, and emotion. Music is my escape. It silences the world and all my worries. Bob Marley said it best, “One good thing about music is that when it hits you, you feel no pain.” And I couldn’t agree more. Music has been engrained into me since I was a little girl.

  I grew up in a bar, but it’s not as bad as it sounds. My parents bar was called McCarthy's. Every Friday night my dad would hire local bands just waiting to catch their big break. I absolutely loved Friday nights. Listening to the bands was one of my favorite things to do. My dad made sure to lock the door behind the bar, and I wasn’t allowed to leave my spot without telling him. I would sit behind the bar while my mom and dad made drinks for their customers. Dad would slide the drink my way, and I’d add one of those little red straws to their drink, grab a napkin, and then give it to
the person who ordered it. It was my one and only job, and I made sure I did that job well.

  “Don’t forget the napkin, pumpkin,” Daddy always said.

  “Sorry, Daddy.” Then I'd smile up at my dad; grab a napkin, which I forgot, and give the drink to one of my daddy’s friends. “Here you go Tiny, Jack and Coke, just how you like it.” He smile at me and take his drink. Everyone who was a regular at the bar knew who I was. I had about 20 big biker guys looking out for me, and even though I was in a bar, I never felt safer.

  Some new customers would come in and give my parents shit for having a child in a bar. My Dad didn’t even bat an eye before saying, “If you don’t like the fact that my daughter is in my bar then you can close your tab and go somewhere else.” I never saw what was wrong with me being there; I enjoyed putting straws in people’s drinks and listening to the music. Now that I’m a little older, maybe it was weird to have a 7 year old in a bar, but again, what do I know.

  My dad and I were always really close. He was the center of my whole world. He used to play his guitar and sing a song for me every night before bed. It was a song he wrote called “Dear Abby.” I loved that song. After he sang to me he would lean over, kiss my forehead, and tell me to have the best damn dreams I could think of.

  “Daddy, don’t say damn,” I'd giggle. “I said damn in school yesterday, and I got in a lot of trouble. My teacher said that was an inappropriate word,” I said with a frown.

  “Well, you just so happen to come from an inappropriate family, and we say words like damn around here,” he'd say with a wink. “But maybe we should refrain from using that word at school, what do you think?”

  I remember giggling and jumping into his lap. “OK daddy, I think I can do that.”

  My mother would always stand in the doorway while my dad sang to me. She always wore this content smile, and she would look at the two of us with such adoration in her eyes. Even at a young age, I knew my mom and dad were in love. You could just tell by the way they looked at each other. I used to catch them dancing in the kitchen when they thought I had gone to bed. I would sit in the doorway and just watch them dance. He would twirl her around, and dip her low so that her hair touched the floor.