Chapter Two

"Be reasonable, Tori," mom said, crossing her legs impatiently. "This isn't the end of the world."

"Really?" I grumbled, shoving the contents of my dresser drawer into my lime green suitcase. "Because it certainly feels like it."

Mom sat on my twin bed, stripped of its sheets and any proof that it belonged to a teen. My room was completely bare, except for the piles of boxes and the furniture that was staying. The walls that once held photos and memories were now painted over in white. It looked like a blank slate. Something I wasn't going to get when I returned to that hellhole.

I grimaced.

Stupid South Carolina…had to ruin everything.

Turning away from mom, I quickly folded my blanket and dropped it on top of my duffel. All of my things were packed, but I wasn't ready to go yet. Those bullies were going to smell my special edition perfume a mile away. The times they played "Chubby Chaser" would return, my lunch money would be stolen repeatedly, and I'd be the laughing stock of the entire eastern coast.

When I was a little girl, my parents took me to Disney World. Yes, I met Cinderella and told her very sassily that I had a dress just like hers at home (I had been the shoe obsessed princess for Halloween just the year before). But more importantly, I was determined to go on the Tower of Terror.

Chase Wentworth had told the entire first grade class that he rode it over the summer and didn't even bat an eye. Being the reasonable young lady I was, I had to ride it too. I waited in line for hours to get on it, all the while my parents tried to convince me to go back and ride Dumbo again (I really should have listened). But I wasn't having it.

I wanted to ride the Tower of Terror. If Chase Wentworth had ridden it and lived to tell the tale then gosh darn it, I was going to do the same. So they strapped me in that scary, rickety old thing and let it rip. Imagine my surprise when we suddenly dropped a good hundred feet in the air, only to stop and then start back up again. And again. And again. After having peed my pants (twice), I staggered off of it with a pale face and a mouth wide open in a silent scream.

And as horrifying as that experience was, the Tower of Terror had nothing on how I felt going back to South Carolina. I'd gladly go to Disney World again just to ride that damn attraction ten times a day for the rest of my life if it meant never facing my bullies again.

I stood up and walked over to yank off my photo from my mirror. I stopped, my fingers pressing just on the edges of it. This was the same photo that had my two childhood friends kissing both of my cheeks. My eyes watered as I pulled it down gently. It was my most precious item. It was definitely making the journey across America with me. I smoothed out the wrinkles of my favorite photo one more time. My fingers lingered over Chase's small frame before I tenderly placed it in the box with all of my other treasured items.

"I know wanted to spend the rest of winter break with your friends," mom said softly. "But don't you want to see your east coast pals?" I glanced back at her once I could blink back the tears. "They probably miss you from grade school   "

"No," I said flatly. "They don't." I glared at her. "I don't even have 'east coast pals' to see!" The anger inside of me was boiling up and over. "Don't you get it?" I felt my chest get hotter and hotter. "You're ruining my life!"

I couldn't look at her. I was too angry. Too upset. I kept my gaze on the left corner of the mirror. How could she do this to me? Didn't she care?

"Tori   "

"No, mom," I growled, shutting my eyes tightly. "Just don't."

I didn't want to listen to her anymore. I was sick of her trying to put a happy spin on everything. My life sucked, and there was no positivity that was going to change that.

"I don't want to move," I muttered, "I hate this."

Mom was silent. The only sound heard was the squeak of my nails digging into the wooden dresser in front of me. My world was falling apart, and that stupid dresser was my anchor. I secretly worried that if I let go of it, I really would be swept under.

"Come on," mom said quietly. "Sit down."

I peeked over my shoulder to see her patting the bed. I reluctantly pried each finger off of the dresser and plopped down next to her. I could feel a "mother/daughter" talk coming on. To be honest, I really wasn't in the mood. The only time my mom sat me down was when she wanted to talk about life or sex. And trust me, our last sex talk was not fun. She brought in sock puppets.

Sock puppets!

Scarred for life, man. Scarred. For. Life.

"Mom," I said, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice, "Do we have to leave?"

"Yes," she said, mimicking me, "We have to leave." Mom sighed and rubbed my back. "I know this is hard on you."

"Can't you just reject the promotion?" I moaned, picking up a pillow from behind us and shoving my face in it.

"The money is good and the rest of our family lives on the east coast," mom said, ruffling my hair, unwittingly shoving my nose harder into the cushion. "We can finally have Thanksgiving with grandma again!" I didn't budge. "You know the only reason we came here was to   "

"Get away from dad," I finished for her as I lifted my face up for air. I had already heard it a million times before. "I know, I know…"

Mom frowned. "Tori, now that your father and I have…reached an agreement…"

She stopped talking when I gave her a look. "Reached an agreement"? I'm calling it. I'm calling bullshit. My parents couldn't even decide on a dessert together, let alone reach a f*****g agreement if the world depended on it.

The divorce in fifth grade was completely my mom's idea. Dad refused it right from the get-go. He apparently had been cheating on her with a woman he met on a business trip. It was a total cliché. I didn't know about it until my mom thought I was old enough to hear about my dad doing women when he was supposed to be doing business.

My mom drew up the divorce papers, and my dad flipped. The result? He went bat s**t crazy. The poor sap kept sending us flowers, teddy bears, and chocolates every day until we left South Carolina. I personally loved it at the time (come on, I was like eleven), but mom was freaking out over it. Even a restraining order wasn't enough to keep him away. And that was with the cops prying him out of the tree in our front yard.

Anyway, I hadn't seen my old man since sixth grade. Truthfully, I was glad. And not just because of the whole creepy stalker thing, but because just at the beginning of my junior year, he had gotten caught for "obscenities with a minor."

A.K.A. sleeping with a sixteen year-old.

The girl was my age.

Needless to say, mom uttering the words, "reached an agreement," made me want to gag.

"Fine," she breathed exasperatedly, wavering under my harsh gaze, "Now that your father is in jail up in Massachusetts, I feel like we can go back to South Carolina. Back to our lives."

"But we have lives," I complained, "We have them here. With Dan."

Mom smiled. It was a smile she reserved solely for Dan. I wasn't jealous or anything. Mom had a smile just for me too"but this one was special. Gentle, even. Her eyes crinkled up and the edges sparkled. Kind of reminded me of sunsets and sunscreen for some odd reason. It was a beach bum grin when you spend all day in the heat and ocean. Finally, you sit down to relax, only to greet the night with an exhausted happiness and a sandy a*s. It was something I hadn't seen until my stepdad came into the picture: the day he arrived on our doorstep with tulips and lilies, my mom's favorite flowers.

"Yes, yes we do," she said, "But we can start a new journey in our lives together. We've come to a different path that we can to follow. A constantly changing and growing path. We can go there together and explore new possibilities."

I narrowed my eyes. "You've been listening to Dan's meditation audiobooks again, haven't you?"

She laughed, shaking the bed slightly. "That's not the point." She nudged me playfully. "But in my defense, he's been listening to them out loud just before we go to sleep at night."

"Ugh," I groaned half-heartedly. "Let's skip new possibilities." I leaned into her soft shoulder. "Can't I just stay here?" I batted my eyes up at her. "With Darcy?"

My best friend, hearing her name being called, popped her head in the door with a big, cheesy grin slapped on her face. Her curly hair bobbled with the bounce in her step. The large brown box gripped by her neon yellow nails did not go unnoticed.

"I'm all for it, Mrs. A," she said cheerfully as she put down what seemed to be some of Dan's clothing. "My parents are on board and everything."

"I'm pretty sure your dads won't be very happy with another teenage daughter to deal with," mom laughed, wrapping an arm around me and squeezing me in a side hug. "But thanks for the offer."

"A gay couple with two straight daughters?" Darcy asked, "Are you kidding me?" She looked at me with her black eyebrow quirked upward. "She's kidding, right? It's, like, their dream come true."

Mom stood and tucked my blanket under her arm, hanging the strap of my duffel over her shoulder. "I'm going to help Dan pack up the car, Tori."

I nodded and watched as she walked past Darcy and out the door. Meanwhile, I started snatching the pillows off of the floor and stuffing them into the nearest box.

"Can you believe this?" I moaned, "Tomorrow I'm going to be shipped back to South Carolina."

I realized that I was shoving the pillows so hard into the cardboard box that I was crushing it. Not smart, considering I needed every last box I could find. I tried to place them in a little more delicately.

Darcy sat in my hot pink desk chair, and folded her dark brown legs up in a pretzel. "It's not so bad. " She spun around a little, her legs still folded under her. "At least this way you don't have to wait until your middle school reunion to show those losers what you transformed into." She tilted her head thoughtfully. "Do those things even happen   middle school reunions, I mean?"

I ripped out my duct tape and dragged it along the top of the box. I tore it apart with my teeth.

"Whoa, going all caveman, Tor?"

"When dealing with Neanderthals, you kind of have to be barbaric," I snapped.

"Relax, Taurus," she snorted, "You've been prepping for this for the past few months. You've got this, girl."

"I really don't think I do," I shot back, "I don't care how prepared you think I am   without you, I'm nothing."

She grinned and sank to the floor in front of me. She had been my best friend the moment I arrived in Malibu my sixth grade year. I didn't know how I was going to make it the rest of my junior year without her.

"As much as I love hearing you say that," Darcy said, plucking up one of my stuffed animals and playing with its fuzzy nose, "I think we need to talk about your codependency issues."

I laughed and playfully smacked her. "Seriously, Darcy. How am I going to deal with all of them?" I waved my arms dramatically. "I can't even pack without you   thanks once again, by the way."

She shook her head and then held up her hand. True, her nails had just been done in our favorite salon and they did look fabulous, but that's not what she was showing me at that moment. There, wrapped around her wrist, the familiar purple sweatband we had grown to know and love stayed. So when she started to take it off, I frowned.

"Darcy, don't   "

It was too late.

She had already taken it off. I tried not to stare at the scars.

Like me, Darcy had been bullied growing up, too. Unfortunately, people still weren't tolerant with homosexuality. Something about it being an abomination or whatever.

And with her parents being a gay couple, it took its toll on her. Ignorant kids of ignorant people would constantly tell her she was going to hell. That if her parents really loved her, they would be straight.

That s**t really f***s you up.

So she cut herself. She thought she deserved it. I didn't know about it until eighth grade when I accidentally walked in on her doing it in her bedroom. It was really scary. I mean when you walk in on a thirteen-year-old cutting herself (with the same scissors you guys had used to make a collage the day before, mind you) it sort of gives you the chills.

Instead of freaking me out, it drew us closer together. I told her about my anorexia and bulimia, and she explained her cutting. While my disorder was punishment for not being beautiful enough, hers was punishment for being the daughter of a scandal.

The adopted daughter of "two sinners."

We helped each other cope a bit better. Sometimes it's nice to know you're not alone. To help her cover up her scars, she constantly had that purple sweatband on. It was like her lifesaver. Whenever she felt the urge to cut, she'd look down at it and think of how far she came.

Darcy told me once that she wanted to have a tattoo there. Either a heart or the word, "love." Maybe even a smiley face or something cute like that. But, of course, her parents weren't too pleased with that idea. So she'd wait until she was eighteen to get the tattoo. But until then, she kept that sweatband on like it was her lifeline.

It may as well have been.

So as she slid it off, I couldn't help but stare.

"I got through this," Darcy said, her voice hushed. "And so can you." She grabbed my hands and dumped the band in my palms. "Keep it. I've got like a million of these things." She smiled. "If you can't get a hold of me on the phone and you feel alone, just look at it and remember." She pressed my fingers back to close in on the gift. "I'll always be there for you."

I just grinned, the movement in my face causing tears to fall from my eyes. As I put the band on, I let out a few sniffles. Too bad Charity wasn't there to remind me not to mess up my make up.

"You okay?" Darcy asked quietly.

I couldn't speak, so I just nodded.

"You sure?" she prodded.

I looked up only to find her eyes wet and arms outstretched.

"Damn, I'm going to miss you," she sniffled.

"Yeah," I choked out, "Me too."

I let my tears fall right onto her shoulder and down her black hair as we hugged.

"Give 'em hell," she whispered in my ear.

And I hugged her tighter.

Author's Note

Please let me know what you think of the chapter!

Thanks ever so much,
Eleanor A. Bennett

Reviews

[leenalettingitout]

/Loved/ this chapter. The insight into Darcy's past was great.
My comments are very short, and they're mostly about what I'm fairly sure are typos.

"I know wanted to spend the rest of winter break with your friends," mom said softly. "But don't you want to see your east coast pals?" I glanced back at her once I could blink back the tears. "They probably miss you from grade school."
I'm assuming there's supposed to be a "so" somewhere in "I glanced back..."


"Scarred for life, man. Scarred. For. Life."
This line feels a tad unnecessary. I mean, it isn't one that I'm gonna scream "DELETEDELETEDELETEDELETE" at or anything, it just doesn't seem to fit her voice.

"I didn't know about it until my mom thought I was old enough to hear about my dad doing women when he was supposed to be doing business." This line is good, I like it.

"Fine," she breathed exasperatedly, wavering under my harsh gaze, "Now that your father is in jail up in Massachusetts, I feel like we can go back to South Carolina. Back to our lives."

"But we have lives," I complained, "We have them here. With Dan."
Did she already know her father was in jail? By her mom saying that she and her father had "reached an agreement," it doesn't seem quiet like Tori already knew he was in jail because she doesn't even bat and eyelash at that. I mean, I'm assuming she does know, I just think you should add something (even if it's just a sentence) to give the reader that final hint besides the fact that he was messing around with a young girl. (I mean, people have gotten away with more messed up things, so you never know...)

"Ugh," I groaned half-heartedly. "Let's skip new possibilities." I leaned into her soft shoulder. "Can't I just stay here?" I batted my eyes up at her. "With Darcy?"

My best friend, hearing her name being called, popped her head in the door with a big, cheesy grin slapped on her face. Her curly hair bobbled with the bounce in her step. The large brown box gripped by her neon yellow nails did not go unnoticed."
I'm guessing that part was previously planned by Tori and Darcy? Regardless of the sort of vagueness of that, I like the way she just kind of pops in.

"Relax, Taurus," she snorted, "You've been prepping for this for the past few months. You've got this, girl."
I'm excited for the nickname to be explained (unless is already has been and I'm worse at reading (and writing) than I thought...?

The adopted daughter of "two sinners."
I think you only need the quotes around "sinners," not two.

Also, there was a stray quotation mark in there somewhere that I'm assuming was supposed to be a dash, but going through it now I can't spot it.

Like I said, loved this chapter a lot. Hope to see many more like it.

[Eleanor A. Bennett]

Thanks for the review!

There is no, "so," in the sentence: "I glanced back..." It stands alone.

The nonchalant way that Tori doesn't even bat an eyelash at her mother mentioning her father being in jail is a huge indicator that she already knew about him being arrested. It's in the explanation of her father's cheating history and the line stating, "...but because just at the beginning of my junior year, he had gotten caught for 'obscenities with a minor.'"

The part with Darcy and Tori had been unplanned. Darcy was simply walking by with a box in her arms when she heard her name being called.

Oh, and the nickname is just something I liked. It has to do with her birthday, but also a hint at how stubborn she is. Just a little something I had to throw in and will be mentioned in later chapters. So no worries.

I'll edit the quotations of "two sinners," to be just around the latter.

Glad you liked the chapter! I'll read more of your stuff when I have time tomorrow!

Thanks ever so much,
Eleanor A. Bennett