Until Today, AnywayA Story by Chelsea ElizabethOne day can change a life."He what?"
Eli is far angrier than I had anticipated. He's pulling the car into a parking lot, clearly unable to think, unable to drive. We'll be late to the party, but I don't really care. I grasp his hand in mine. He's shaking.
"He gets a little carried away sometimes," I whisper. "Mainly when I'm drunk or high or something. I..." I can't finish. There's nothing left worth saying.
Eli bites his lip. He's always chewing on his lip. "Did you tell him 'no'?" he asks. I can barely understand him. The Londoner accent mixed with emotion skews every word he says. Tears well up in his eyes.
This is the hard part, not because I don't know; I do. But, if Jason and I just got carried away at a party, it's one thing. Rape is a whole different matter. "Yes," I say quietly. "Yes, I tell him to stop every time. That much I remember."
Eli's crying, shedding more tears than I have. I have yet to cry, actually. Wasting that energy on Jason Bauer seems a little ridiculous. I can't let his stupidity ruin my life.
His arms are encirlcling me and I rest my head against his chest. He kisses my forehead, my eyelids, tells me he won't let Jason hurt me again. "I'll kill him if he touches you," he says.
I'm silent, eyes still closed. I like Eli's kisses. I usually pretend it's a cultural thing, that he kisses all his girl friends back home on the forehead. I know it's not true; I know Americans and Britons aren't that different culturally, but I like to act like what he does isn't wrong. I've had Jason, yes, but Eli's kisses aren't like that. That's what I always tell myself.
Until today, anyway.
I kiss his lips, taste salty tears. I'm crying too now, and our tears mingle together.
He pulls back. He's surprised, I can tell. I can always read him. He pulls me close again, as close as the gear shift will allow, and I rest my chin on his shoulder. "I love you, Sydney," he says. I know he doesn't mean just as a friend.
I broke up with Jason after the last time, I tell him. It's been a couple weeks. He knew we were broken up, he just didn't know why.
Until today, anyway.
We're at the party now, Jason hanging close by. Eli stays within an arm's length. When we step outside to talk, Jason follows. My heart pounds, but I know Eli will protect me. He always protects me.
I want to kiss Eli, but I don't. I don't want to complicate things. That's what he said we would be doing, complicating things. So, despite his feelings and my own, I don't kiss him. I never get to kiss him.
Eli doesn't see when Jason follows us outside, but I do. He goes inside for a few minutes to grab a beer for me. I don't make a big deal about Jason; I've handled him before.
As soon as Eli leaves, Jason walks up next to me. He says a rough hello before kissing me on my lips, my neck. He has me by the wrists. I pull away, but know it's futile. He's stronger than me. I've never been able to get away.
Until today, anyway.
I hear Eli's voice, feel him shove his body between Jason and me. He turns to me, checks out my wrist where Jason twisted the skin. It hurts, but not too badly.
Jason doesn't give up easily. I see him out of the corner of my eye, approaching as if I'm actually going to talk to him after what he did to me. I sigh and decide I might as well get the confrontation over with. I turn to him.
"What?" I ask. The one word says more in tone than I could in a thousand words.
He's smiling now, drunkenly, ludicrously. Laughing as if the situation was so ridiculous as to demand it. "You're such a s**t."
I hear my father's words echo his in my head. "Eli's my friend, Jason. Leave me alone." He's uncomfortably close now.
"You break up with me and two weeks later, you're with him? Or were you always with him?"
He pushes my shoulders, causing me to take a step backward. I can tell Eli is debating whether or not to throw himself in there just yet. I know he doesn't want anyone to get hurt, and if Jason will just go away...
He doesn't. "I'm sure you're sleeping with him now, too, just like you did me. Are you going to threaten to call the police on him, too?"
I stare at him, tears in my eyes. I'm not sure which part of his statement to correct. It takes too much explaining to tell him that everything he's said is wrong. I settle for one sentence, whispered through my gritted teeth. "He's never raped me."
Jason's eyes flash with anger and he moves so swiftly, Eli isn't even able to stop him. His fist hits my face in an explosion of pain. I'm in complete shock. He's never, ever hit me before. Never.
Until today, anyway.
Eli's throwing punches before I have a chance to blink. He obviously had no idea Jason would hit me, or he would have thrown himself in front of me. I'm still surprised that he hit me, and closed-fisted to boot.
I know I should try to break up the fight before Eli gets carried away, before he kills him, but...something in me wants Jason to pay dearly for everything he's done to me over the years.
Jason's telling Lauren to call the police. His face is covered in blood, and I'm pretty sure he's lost a couple teeth at this point.
"Oh, we want the police involved," Eli says. He stands upright and walks over to me, taking my elbow and turning me toward his car. I'm glad. I don't want to see Jason's face up close. Jason screams something after us that I don't fully hear.
Eli leads me to his car and helps me sit down on the seat. I'm still staring straight ahead, trying to process what just happened.
"Is he really bloody?" I ask when Eli gets in the car. He leaves the light on, doesn't turn the engine on. Just sits.
He nods, then takes my face in his hands. I ignore the fact that his knuckles, his palms, his everything are covered in blood. "I can't believe he hit you," he says, touching the spot on my face lightly. I wince from pain. I can tell it's already bruised. "Has he ever done that before?"
I shake my head numbly. "No, no. He's never..."
"He said he'd be contacting his family's lawyer," Eli says softly. "I hope he does."
His face is bleeding. We decide we have to go to his house, get cleaned up, talk with his parents. Both of us, together. We'll have to tell them everything...about going to the party...about drinking...about what Jason did...everything. I've never told anyone's parents the truth about anything involving crimes committed, never ratted out my friends.
Until today, anyway.
We're at his house now, his mother is tending to my wounds while his father takes care of his. Her touch is gentle. She wipes the dried blood from my face and holds an ice pack to the bruise. Eli and his father are in the next room, but I can hear Eli crying.
"I love her," he says. "I had to protect her."
He tells his father about everything Jason did to me from the beginning. I'm glad. I don't know if I can verbalize it.
His mother is asking about the party. I answer Emily numbly, truthfully, knowing Eli will be in hot water. I won't, only because my parents don't care as long as I make it out alive. I doubt if my dad even cares about that.
"We'll call you mum," she says to me. "Let her know you're staying here again."
I agree, though I don't think she'll care. To my surprise, she sounds relieved when Emily calls, when I get to talk to her. She says to stay there, she's glad I'm safe. She tells me she loves me, something I've always had a hard time believing.
Until today, anyway.
I'm sent upstairs and Jocelyn brings me some pajamas I've never seen before. She tells me they're for whenever I spend the night, that her mom had bought them after the last time I stayed over. They're lime green, my favorite color, and they match the toothbrush I've had at their house for weeks, after the first time my dad got so angry that Eli took me home. I had been bloody and bruised then, too, only by a different man.
The pajamas fit me far better than Joce's, which were always a little short. Her legs are a lot shorter than mine. I smile sadly at myself in the mirror, admiring the green top and ignoring the large bruise taking over a fourth of my face. When I go to settle down in Lyzzie and Jocelyn's room as usual, the twins come enter and ask if all of us can sleep in their room.
I think having four girls chattering on and on will keep me distracted from the long conversation that's still going on downstairs. We push together Clara and Evie's beds and all pile in. Clara reads outloud from an American Girl book, one about Felicity. I rest my chin on Lyzzie's head. I want to cry, but I don't want to upset the girls. I've never felt that kind of consideration for them, like they were my sisters or something.
Until today, anyway.
Eli comes up hours after the girls are asleep. I can't sleep, though. My mind is spinning. He helps me rearrange Lyzzie and Evie, who had fallen asleep half on top of me and pulls me to his room. He hasn't said a word and still doesn't. He just kisses me.
I look into his warm brown eyes, touch the butterflied wound on his face lightly. I still can't believe Jason hit him...hit me...
"I talked with my parents," he says softly. "You're staying here until everything gets sorted out. They're going to talk with your mum tomorrow." Emily and Phillip are going to contact a lawyer friend of theirs to deal with Jason. I'll have to testify if it goes to court.
I nod silently and feel tears jump to my eyes. Eli wipes them away, kisses my forehead as he has so many times before. "You're safe," he whispers. "You're okay here. You're safe."
I love him, I realize. I love all of them. But, especially him.
I rest my chin on his shoulder and he cups the back of my head with his hand. I've never been taken care of, never been completely safe. I've certainly never felt secure.
Until today, anyway.
Jocelyn and I are making pancakes the next morning. Banana-chocolate-chip pancakes. The rest of the girls are still asleep. Eli's awake, but barely. He's been sitting at the kitchen table, watching me through bleary eyes for awhile now.
His parents are awake, too, but they've been talking in quiet voices in their room. They're talking about me, I know, and what to do with me. They've always wanted to take me to CPS, but don't want me to go to a bad home. I hope I can just stay here.
Jocelyn shows me what to put in the batter, tells me not to worry about the lumps. I'm sixteen and I don't know any of this stuff. My mom never taught me how to cook. I learned what I know from books. I don't think I've ever even had pancakes in my house.
"Clara likes them in shapes," she tells me and pulls out some metal cookie cutters. I pick out a star shape and follow Jocelyn's lead. We both have pans on the stove, and she shows me how to spoon the batter inside the cookie cutter to make shaped pancakes.
Jocelyn smiles at me as we flip pancakes. Evie stumbles into the kitchen and hugs me, her thin arms wrapping about my waist like I'm her sister, her favorite or something. I've never wanted little sisters.
Until today, anyway.
Pancakes are on the table now The girls are all talking and laughing and stealing one another's food. Lydia, the toddler, is babbling in her highchair. Chocolate covers her mouth. Emily and Phillip enter the room quietly and Emily squeezes my shoulder lightly before sitting down to eat.
I'm quiet and listen to the girls tell jokes. Eli is quiet too, but he's watching me. My eyes meet his and he smiles before turning to listen to one of Lyzzie's observations. She's been pulling on his sleeve for about thirty seconds.
Evie is sitting next to me, holding my hand. Her big brown eyes stare at me. They look like her brother's. She stands on her chair to whisper a secret to me. She's going to start taking ballet, just like Jocelyn. Just like me.
Emily pulls me aside in the middle of breakfast. She tells me what she and Phillip have been discussing since before dawn. They've talked to my mother. They're going to work things out and try to get legal custody of me. I could live with them for now, for sure, and hopefully forever.
I hug Emily tightly and cry a little in her arms. I want to be fully truthful. I ask her if my loving Eli changed anything.
"We'll talk about it later," she says and pats my back softly. "Right now, let's just focus on getting you into your new home."
New home, I think. I like the sound of that, though it's not entirely accurate. I've never been in a place so welcoming and warm. I've never really had a home.
Until today, anyway. © 2008 Chelsea ElizabethFeatured Review
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Added on July 7, 2008Last Updated on July 7, 2008 AuthorChelsea ElizabethTXAboutMy name's Chelsea and I'm a college student. I'm also a Christian. I've been writing stories since I was pretty young and, at the age of 9 or 10 I decided I wanted to be an author. I have completed.. more..Writing
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