Having dinner had never felt so gloomy. The terse silence was thicker than the one shrouding a bereaved family on the funeral day of a much loved one. Damien picked at the trimmed vegetables on his plate while listening to music on his headset without sparing as much as a glance, or glare if you might as well add at us. Flynn tried, really tried to not act irritable while Mother kept her head down, focusing hard on her food. Lia wasn't back yet, and I doubted she would come back.
And me? Well, let's just say I kept getting distracted by the way Damien chewed his veggies so delicately, his tongue brushing against his lower lip traitorously.
I gulped down a glass of juice at how hot that looked. And the bastard knew I felt that way about him.
Mom, always upfront in fitting into the good stepmother role was the first to speak. "So, Damien. How are you finding Boston and Listhrough High so far? Made any new friends yet?"
"Seeing as I've only begun going to school today, you don't expect me to say something positive concerning that, do you?"
Flynn slammed his fork down. "Wow. Tell me something, son. Would it kill you to show some respect to your stepmother for just two minutes? Tell me, would it?"
Damien simply shrugged. "Depends. Would it kill her to stay out of my fucking business for the same amount of time? And are we seriously talking about respect when she literally stole you away from Mom! Who in the fucking world shows respect to that sort of person?"
And that, folks, was all it took for my step father to scoot his chair backward and grab Damien's shirt collar in a heartbeat. "You dirty asshat. How could I ever birth such a rascal from my own loins?"
"Flynn!" Mom's eyes widened as she shrieked, getting up. "Flynn Halloway let him go!"
"Oh I will all right. After I teach him some manners."
"Dad — " The word tasted like a bitter pill in mouth, but I swallowed anyway. "P-Please let him go. The neighbours are home."
"I don't fucking care about the neighbours, he's a worthless piece of shit!"
Whoa. I'd never seen my stepfather this angry at someone this much. He was normally cool and slow to anger. At least I found that part of him admirable. Mom carefully removed his large hands from Damien's shirt collar, pulling them apart. My stepbrother, the usual asshole that he was pretended to rub invisible strain lines off his shirt, threw down his napkin down on the table and stomped up the stairs. A few seconds later I heard my bedroom door slam shut and the lock was turned.
What an eventful dinner it'd been.
The silence that followed was deafening and seemed to remind me of some similar little drama I'd thrown when I was thirteen. That was the year I discovered the most about myself and also why I didn't find Beyonce's tits appealing like every boy in Listhrough High.
Mother slung an arm over Flynn's neck, muttering sweet words to calm him down and I lost my appetite instantly, pondering on what Terra must have been telling Damien about Flynn to make him hate his father so much.
I impulsively got up and went upstairs. My heart was pounding as I approached my door. I'd complained to Mother about Damien staying in my room last night, but she'd waved me off, stating that I let Damien do whatever he wants if it was going to help him adjust to our home. I certainly didn't find all the passes my stepbrother was getting funny, but I had no choice than to just go with whatever crap he pulled. Sooner or later, Mom was bound to get tired covering and sacrificing everything for a relationship with him.
Knocking softly, I twisted the door knob and pushed. He laid on the bed with his face facing the wall, clutching a novel. If he'd heard me enter, he didn't show it but went on with his business. I leaned an arm over the doorway and watched him closely. He was bouncing his legs nervously and his eyes seemed to be stuck on one page — one word. I moved a step to check out what it was, missing the guitar on the floor. I yelled as I fell with a thud, colliding onto him.
He jumped as I tumbled onto him, the book falling out of his grasp to the floor. "What the fuck," he placed a palm on his chest, trying to get his bearings. "When did you enter?"
"A minute ago. Sorry, I just — " He pushed me off him unexpectedly and I groaned as my butt hit the floor hard. "Ouch."
He strode over to the door and pulled it open, gesturing. "Save your explanation for later. I'd like you to leave."
I scoffed. "The nerve of you practically throwing me out of my very own room."
"So? Listen here, fairy, your mother approved my stay here. She told me I could have this room if I wanted." he smirked as he folded his hands across his chest.
"No she didn't, you liar!"
He cocked his head at the door. "Want to ask her? I'd rather you save yourself the shame and just leave."
"No I won't. What are you gonna do anyway?" I challenged.
He shrugged. "I guess we'd just have to find out,"
Against my will, Damien hauled my sorry arse over his shoulder out the room. I cursed and screamed, aiming punches on his butt. "Devil. Amateur. Ingrate!" I bellowed, kicking my legs aggressively. "You think you're tough, huh? I'll show you who's boss!!"
He kicked a brown door open and dumped me like a soggy teddy bear on the bed. I huffed, looking around. It was his designated room.
He pointed a finger at me. "Now you listen to me here, fairy incase you don't know. I own this place. Anything I want, I get it because every fucking one in this house can't help it. You wanna help me adjust? Then do as I tell you. You want to help me to be a better person? Stay out of my way and my room for good!"
"You stupid fucker!" I spat at him. "I promise you'd regret ever coming to Boston someday."
"Oh I won't." He chortled. "You're the one who's going to regret ever being born. Stay away from me, brother." The word rolled off his tongue in biting sarcasm. I watched him leave, slamming the door roughly behind him.
*-*-*-*-*-*-
The next morning, which was a Saturday thankfully, I walked into the room to see Damien smoking. His eyes roved over the white streaks across my face as he grunted a reply to my greetings. I headed straight to the drawer, took out the novel he'd been reading the day earlier and ran out.
"What the fuck?" he followed me in a hot chase. I grinned all the way to his room and ran in, shutting the door against his face and turning the lock. I quickly glimpsed the book title and stuffed it into my boxer briefs just as the window louvers were lifted off and Damien jumped over the ledge, his eyes dark with pure murder and undeniably sexy.
Christ. He'd hauled a ladder over the wall and gotten here faster than Flash. Something was definitely up with that book.
"Give the goddamn book back to me," he growled through gritted teeth. I shook my head and stood tall, refusing to budge. He's not the only man in the room. "No. I'm not giving it back and there's nothing you can do to me."
In a minute he'd upturned the room in a frenzied search, going on his knees and looking under the bed and closet for the book. When he was satisfied I hadn't hidden it anywhere, he stood back up and scanned my appearance, eyes litting up at the rectangular bulge in my pants. "Bingo. Be a good little boy and hand it over, else I'm reaching into your underwear and getting it."
"Seriously, what's with this book? Why are you so concerned about it like this?"
He scowled. "Not your fucking business. The book's mine and that's all there is to it. Really, what's with you and your family? You all look pretty too decent to be labelled thieves. But you act like it."
"What has my mother ever done to you? Your parents were already estranged before she knew Flynn."
"She knew perfectly well that my mother was still alive. She knew of my existence yet still choosed to separate Flynn from my mother. Tell me, how much more heartless can such a person be? Then I come around for a two-year holiday and she's acting like an ideal stepmother."
"Well your mother didn't want to get with Flynn in the first place. I find it wicked of her trying to paint herself as the potential victim here. And they wonder why strippers are so cheap."
As soon as the words were out my mouth, I shuddered in realization of what I'd just said. If Damien looked ready to murder me before but thought better of it, now he really, really wouldn't mind driving a knife into my throat. "Dont. You. Fucking. Call. My. Mother. A. Whore. You fucking faggot!"
"Well that makes two of us!" I managed nervously. "At least it's bearable being a happy faggot than a depressed, fucked-up asshat. Your dad loves you. That's why he came back for you. That's why he never abandoned you no matter how often you always rile him up. You said Terra's the only one who's been there for you right? Tell me now, where is she? Where the fuck is the mother you love so much?" When he found it hard to reply, I continued. "I'll give you an answer. Forks. With a new man. And a new home. And probably a bunch of kids born before your two-year stay with us elapses. She thought you an obstacle to her new union hence why she sent you here to stay with us! Wow. What a role model she is."
He was silent, rubbing his temples in frustration. His tone eased for the first time since he arrived Boston. Since I met him. "No. You're lying."
I scoffed. "Oh really? Then give me concise answers to these questions. Why has her line been switched off for days? Why didn't she call to find out if you arrived safely in Boston and how we've been treating you here? I know being a stripper is a pretty demanding job, but it doesn't come first before family. Face it Damien, Terra never loved you. You were that baby that stood in the way of her livelihood. Her joy. Her job. Her glory. The only thing she'd ever done and done so well. You were that kid she wouldn't mind throwing to the dumps if she had a chance. I wonder why she hadn't aborted you years back. She had a motive keeping you alive and which is to poison your mind against your father."
Tears streamed down his eyes, falling faster than a waterfall. He turned, his shoulders quivering as he processed all I'd just said. For the first time ever I felt sympathetic towards him. I understood why he behaved the way he did. The pieces of the whole puzzle were coming together. He never knew the real Terra. He never knew love. And certainly, he never knew it'd be possible to have a family again.
I felt the urge to reach out and wrap my arms around him consume me. I wanted to pat his back and whisper softly to him that it'd be alright. That he was with people he could trust. That he didn't need to act sour to justify the bad upbringing he had. That no matter what he did, and choosed to do, Flynn, Mom, Lia and me would support him wholeheartedly from now henceforth.
He turned back one last time to face me, and his eyes were red and piercing. Just when I thought he was about to say something he walked over to the door, twisted the knob and walked out with his head hanging low.