Chapter 31 (2/2)

“No.” I pull my pants back up, and when I stand up and push my phone into my pocket, she still has that look. My anger means nothing to her.

“I’m not walking you out,” she says with a laugh, back to her normal nihilism for a moment. But then she adds, “Be careful with this shit. Girls like her don’t ever end up with fuckups like you.”

Her eyes grow even sadder for me, and I feel like puking all over her black rug. I know she’s not even trying to insult me—she’s being real and honest, but I don’t need her advice.

I don’t want to “end up with” Tessa. I want to fuck her and win. That’s all.

Without another word, I walk out and drive back to my house.

twelve

The pounding at the door won’t stop. The man behind the door calls my name, and I try to be as quiet as I can when I open the closet door and hide inside. I close the door and wait, covering my ears as the pounding gets louder.

“Get out here now!” his voice booms.

My father is drunk again; he’s drunk every night now.

With one final hit, his fist snaps the wood on the door, and the cracking of the wood sends a shiver down my spine. I hate that I’m afraid of him—I shouldn’t be. I’m twelve and I’m pretty tall for my age. I should be able to defend myself.

Why am I afraid? Because I’m so pathetic.

His voice mixes with the other men’s voices . . . are they here again? I’m not sure. They shouldn’t be because he is, but maybe he wouldn’t protect us anyway.

The closet door opens, and I scoot back against the wall until I have nowhere left to hide.

I wake with a shout, screaming into the empty, lonely space. I’ve stayed in this room for nearly three days straight now, and not one person has called, not one person has knocked on my door. I’ve gotten a lot of work done, though. I don’t want to run into her. I don’t want to see Zed or the rest of them. They haven’t called on me either.

That’s what happens when you’re invisible: no one gives a fuck about you, and you have no one to give a fuck about.

I reach for the dirty black shirt on the floor next to my bed and wipe it across my sweat-soaked face. My hair is damp and my vision is blurry, mixing the past and the present, keeping my lack of a future out of this mess for now.

I suppose I wouldn’t say “lack of.” I’ll be one of those men who work too much, fuck too much, and come home to an empty house every night. I’ll be successful financially and I’ll buy a house even bigger than Ken’s and never invite him over, just like Don Draper. Just to prove a point.

I’m not sure what that point will be, but I have one somewhere in there. Somewhere.

I’m getting the fuck out of this bed today.

WHEN I GET TO CAMPUS, I seek out Tessa immediately. It’s been a little while since I’ve seen her. I wonder if Zed has seen her . . . Has he won a few points while I’ve been in solitude? It’s midmorning, so she’d be getting out of Literature. Unless she’s cut class . . .