Chapter 19 - Chapter 18

 

I watched the clothes swirl in a continuous cycle as I sat on the floor while drinking orange juice from the box, the buzzing of the machine becoming a redundant white noise in my ears.

 

I haven't slept. I couldn't. Not with someone beside me. I couldn't even remember the last time I slept in the same bed with someone while sober and I guess I've forgotten the comfort it brought me to know that I wasn't alone. I've always hated being alone but I've grown used to it. Being alone was always safer. No one would be able to hear me scream if I was alone.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

I looked up, seeing Rick standing by the doorway. I pointed at the washing machine.

 

"Doing your laundry."

 

His brows furrowed and he glanced at the washing machine for a moment before looking back at me.

 

"It's 5AM, Angel."

 

"I was bored."

 

He frowned. "Don't you sleep?"

 

I shrugged. "Sometimes."

 

I emptied the juice box and crumpled it before throwing it in the bin next to the toilet.

 

"I put my clothes in. I hope you don't mind."

 

"I don't," he said, staring at me still. "Can you be honest with me for a sec?"

 

"I'm always honest."

 

"When was the last time you slept, Angel?" he asked. "And don't try to lie. I'm a doctor and the last person I've seen with the same vital signs as you was an alcoholic ex-marine who suffered from PTSD."

 

I gave him a sharp look. "I don't have PTSD."

 

"I didn't say you did. I just asked when the last time you had a decent sleep was."

 

I pursed my lips, keeping my eyes on the clothes as they tumbled around in the machine. "Four years ago."

 

"Excuse me?"

 

I sighed, closing my eyes briefly. "The last time I had a decent sleep was four years ago."

 

He was quiet for a moment, as if he was struggling to come to terms with the information.

 

"You're an insomniac."

 

I nodded. "I was diagnosed when I was eight," I said, dragging a hand through my hair. "I have horrible anxiety and it gets worse with inactivity. I can't stop thinking long enough to fall asleep."

 

He sighed and came to sit beside me. "Do you take medication?"

 

I pulled my legs up to my chest, resting my chin on my knee. "I hate taking sleeping pills cuz it fucks with my memory. I used to play the piano to relax whenever I got too overwhelmed to fall asleep, but I can't anymore so I just do chores to exhaust myself instead. Doesn't really help though but it's a good distraction from the shit in my head."

 

"You never told me why you stopped playing."

 

I opened one hand, moving my fingers slightly. "A few months after my grandfather died, my family hosted a memorial for him on his birthday," I mumbled, focusing my thoughts. "The Lastor Foundation created a scholarship in his name and we were going to award the first fifty scholars that night. I didn't want to go but Jude wouldn't let me leave so I just got shit faced. The host noticed me and asked me to perform something. I didn't really care and I was used to giving impromptu performances. But when I sat in front of the piano, my fingers started shaking and every note I played was either broken or wrong. I started having a panic attack and out of habit, I looked across the stage, where my grandfather always stood to watch whenever I performed. But he wasn't there. The spot was empty. He was just... gone. And at that moment, I was forced confront the fact that he was never coming back. I was never going to see him again. He can never watch me perform again. I can never talk to my best friend again. It just didn't make any sense to me. He was gone and they were celebrating like a bunch of twisted psychos, and they expected me to just sit there and be okay about that. It wasn't their fault they weren't miserable but I was. I was so fucking miserable and I hated it."

 

I curled my hand into a fist, scars of the broken skin on my knuckles stretching.

 

"It's been five years since and every time I touch an instrument, I think of him and my heart would ache so badly that I want to rip it out of me."

 

Rick clasped his hand over my fist, pushing his fingers in between mine. I looked at him and he gave me a smile. But there was no pity in his smile. Just... comfort. It was starting to unnerve me.

 

"I..." I looked away, shaking my head. "I don't why I told you that. I've never told anyone. It's stupid."

 

"No. It's not." He squeezed my hand lightly. "I'm honored that you told me."

 

"I shouldn't have."

 

"But you did, thank you. For showing me a piece of your heart."

 

He looked down at our twined hands, rubbing his thumb over the faded scars on my knuckles.

 

"I've met him, your grandfather," he said. "He often came to visit the apartment I shared with Jude and he would take us out to dinner. All he talked about was you." He smiled. "He told me a story about you."

 

I rolled my eyes. "Let me guess, it was about when he decided to take me on as his protege?"

 

He nodded. "Yeah. He said he found you playing a Beethoven piece on the piano when you were six. He asked how you learned it and you told him-"

 

"He listened to it on the record player so much that it got stuck in my head."

 

He chuckled. "He said it was the first time he's ever envied anyone before. He'd been playing the piano for decades but he could never perfect that piece and you made it look so easy."

 

I managed to smile. "I was a really weird kid," I mumbled. "I used to stare at people a lot and memorize everything about them. That's how I learned to play instruments. I'd memorize every move the musician made and the sound of the notes they played, and then I would copy them. Gramps thought I had photographic memory or some shit, but I was just really obsessed with memorizing everything I saw and heard so I wouldn't forget anything because I was never allowed outside the house."

 

"It must have been lonely."

 

I shook my head. "I was never alone. Jude was always there. We were so close back then."

 

"What happened?"

 

The machine beeped and I smiled, flicking his forehead. "That's enough story telling for today."

 

I got up, going to the machine and taking out the dried clothes.

 

"I'm just gonna fold these and then I'll go."

 

"You don't have to leave, Angel."

 

"Yes, I do," I said, smiling solemnly. "I have the tendency to cause people pain whenever I stay too long. I don't want to hurt you."

 

I stepped out of the room, carrying the laundry basket to the living room and folding the clothes. I finished them quickly and got dressed.

 

"At least stay for breakfast," Rick offered as we stood at the front door.

 

"Nah, I'm good. I had some of your lasagna earlier."

 

He sighed. "Where are you going then?"

 

I shrugged. "I haven't figured that out yet."

 

"Do you have any money? I can loan you some if you-"

 

"Babe," I cut in, placing my hands on his shoulders. "Don't worry. I can take care of myself from here."

 

"See, you say that but you're practically homeless right now."

 

I smiled, closing the space between us. "Thank you," I murmured, holding either side of his face. "For being good to me. I appreciate it. But you're gonna have to stay away from me now."

 

He frowned. "Will you stop with that?"

 

"I already told you, I'm bad for you," I said softly, shaking my head. "This was great but you don't want me in your life, Rick. So stay away, okay?"

 

I kissed him before he could respond and then I turned, heading for the elevator without glancing back at him. As I stepped out of the building, I caught sight of a limo parked across the street. For a moment, I stared at it, knowing that he was inside. Staring back at me.

 

When Jude eventually, stepped out, I could tell he had been there all night because even though he was wearing a suit, it didn't hide his disheveled state.

 

Slowly, he came to me. Stopping in front of me. Staring at me. When he touched my face, I fell to my knees, the pain on my injured leg increasing from the impact. I accepted it. I deserved it.

 

"Forgive me," I whispered, holding back tears. "Please. I can't stand being hated by you."

 

His face broke and he pulled me up, wrapping his arms around me. "Never. I'll never hate you, little Angel."

 

"I'm sorry," I cried, holding onto him. "I'm so fucked up. I'm so sorry. Please don't leave me. I don't want to be alone. It drives me insane."

 

"Ssshh. We're okay. I'm sorry. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." He drew back, wiping away my tears. "Let's go home, okay? You have a big day today."

 

"My hair," I cried, rubbing my eye. "It's still purple."

 

He chuckled, brushing my hair with his fingers. "We'll fix it. Don't worry."

 

"My leg's fucked up."

 

"I'll fix it. I'll fix everything."

 

I nodded and let him guide me to the limo. As we were about to drive off, I saw Rick standing at the entrance of the building.

 

* * *

 

 

I kept my eyes closed, listening to the piano sonata playing on my record player as Jude cut my hair. It's been twenty minutes and he was still cutting away. I tried not to flinch every time the scissors touched me, the memory of Mother cutting all my hair off when I was twelve filling me with so much anxiety and dread.

 

I felt Jude tap my shoulder and I stood, going to the bath tub and letting him rinse off the dye. As he dried my hair, I stared at my reflection, touching the tips of my newly auburn hair. With the dark color, I resembled the whore who gave birth to me almost like a perfect picture. I hated it.

 

I threw the towel at the mirror before I could break my fist through it and got up.

 

"What time are we meeting them?"

 

Jude glanced at his watch before responding, "The ceremony starts at twelve but we need to get going in an hour. Mother wants to meet for brunch at the hotel."

 

I nodded. "Okay. Go get dressed."

 

I took out the dress Andrea had sent me as a graduation gift from my closet. A black sequin halter neck that had metallic chains for straps with a non-existent back. I shook my head, knowing that Mother would scorn me for wearing this.

 

We got to the hotel half past ten and went to the restaurant inside. Mother and Father were seated across each other at a table. Mother looked up at our entrance and immediately frowned at the sight of me. Typical.

 

We approached the table and Jude pulled out a seat for me before taking the one beside Mother. Father folded his newspaper and lifted his hand. I took it, kissing the golden ring that reflected his position as Head of the Lastor Family. It bore the crest of our family, an eagle with its wings spread open sitting atop a crown and two snakes between its beak.

 

I wore my ceremonial pendant that mirrored the crest on his ring, without the crown that was only reserved for the Head of the family. Jude was wearing his own ceremonial ring, which he despised and only wore after I forced him to.

 

"Thank you for coming," I said, my voice leveled and my head bowed.

 

"After what you did last night, once again we are left to save this family's reputation from the gutter," Mother interjected with a scoff. "You couldn't even spare the day of my son's birth from your shameful exploits, could you?"

 

I pursed my lips, lowering my head even further. "Forgive me. I should have been more responsible."

 

"Forgive you?" she spat. "Your scandal is plastered all over the country. Do you have any idea how that makes me look? Everyone thinks I'm a horrible mother for spawning such a disgraceful vermin. Do you even care, petite pute?"

 

"Mother," Jude said placatingly. "Enough."

 

She huffed, sipping on her tea. Jude signaled for the waiter who immediately scurried his way towards us and asked for our orders before quickly turning back.

 

"Have you received letters from medical schools yet?" Father asked as he ate.

 

I nodded, pushing my food around my plate. I felt something step on my foot and I jumped, looking down to see Father's foot firmly on mine. I pursed my lips to prevent myself from making a sound while Jude visibly stiffened as he looked at me.

 

"I asked a question. You answer with words or is that too hard for you?" Father seethed, his voice low as he pressed his foot harder, the sole of his shoe digging into my skin.

 

I cleared my throat. "I actually got a letter from Cambridge a week ago."

 

Father faltered and I quickly drew my foot away from his. They turned to me with questioning looks on their faces and I cringed at the attention.

 

"I was accepted, apparently."

 

Mother huffed and turned to Jude to go back to their conversation but he ignored her.

 

"Are you going then?" my brother asked enthusiastically.

 

I looked up at him and I could see how proud he was of me. Like a father would. I smiled as I nodded.

 

"Congratulations! I'm so proud of you, Gel!" he exclaimed.

 

He stood up to pull me into an awkward embrace that I was too taken aback to return.

 

"Why didn't you tell me?" he gushed.

 

We just started talking again after a month of not seeing each other.

 

I shrugged. "I wanted to surprise you."

 

He grinned and I just smiled weakly then turned to Father, waiting for his response. He had a passive look on his face that neither showed approval nor displeasure, just blank. Hell, I bet he'd have more emotion if he stepped on shit.

 

"I'll have my aide find a place for you. When are you planning on leaving?" he muttered as he casually flipped his newspaper.

 

I flinched at how direct he was. I at least expected some form of acknowledgement. The word, 'Good', would have sufficed. Even a nod. Anything at all.

 

Don't reach for the stars, Angel.

 

Jude's spirits died down and he settled back in his seat, glaring openly at our father.

 

"Just after the summer," I said, casting away my emotions.

 

Father grunted in response and carried on with his reading. I shut my mouth and ate my food in silence. By eleven, we drove to Princeton with Mother and Father following behind us in an SUV.

 

I felt Jude place a hand on my shoulder. I glanced at him, seeing the pathetic look that he was giving me. I tried not to get pissed off.

 

"We should go out for dinner later to celebrate. For this and for Cambridge."

 

I scoffed, shaking my head as I looked out into the window. "I don't need a pity party."

 

"It's not a pity party," he said gently. "It's just dinner. We can invite your friends if you want. I'll even ask Rick to come."

 

I made a face. "Why would you do that? He's not my friend."

 

"He's a good person, Gel. Don't treat him like shit."

 

"I treat everyone like shit. That's the point."

 

He sighed. "Let's not fight."

 

I huffed. "I can't do dinner. I'm going to a party."

 

"Angel... please don't."

 

I pursed my lips. "It's a farewell party and everyone's going. I'll be home before twelve."

 

He sighed again. "Okay. You can go but we're having dinner. I want you to meet someone."

 

"Who?"

 

"You'll see."

 

I shrugged, deciding not to ask further. The ceremony was as dreadful as I imagined it to be, dragging along for what seemed like an eternity with all the wishful speeches from a ton of 'important' people. Father had given the commencement speech, including an offer to accept internships at Lastor International and our many research centers around the world. I remembered Bo had gone to an interview for one of the spots but had declined my offer to help him.

 

"Vivien Angel Howard-Lastor," the dean announced.

 

I sauntered my way through the rows of heads in black caps, anxiety slithering up my spine as flashes began to burst from cameras in every direction. I caught sight of Bo and pointed at him.

 

He grinned before jumping to his feet and shouting, "Dei Sub Numine Viget!"

 

He was immediately joined in by the graduates around him chanting the motto and cheering, effectively drawing the attention away from me. The faculty onstage shook their heads in dismay as I approached them but I just quickly shook their hands and walked up to the center of the stage, curtsying instead of the practiced bow and holding up my middle finger for the cameras. The crowd erupted in full cheers. After years of dragging myself to classes that I had no interest in, I was finally done with this shit.

 

When the commencement ended, everyone threw their rented caps in the air even though we were constantly told not to during practice. None of us cared. We were too far up cloud nine.

 

A few people pulled me along to pose with them for pictures and I grudgingly joined, slyly hiding myself behind them. Bo, Tristan, and I finally got to congratulate each other. We planned to meet up at the club later on that was allegedly rented by Princeton graduates who allegedly chipped in a few bucks to make sure we had the place to ourselves. It was allegedly organized by the USG under the fierce leadership and unrelenting insistence of the President, my dear friend Boaz Abernathy, and you had to present evidence at the door that you were, in fact, part of the graduating class.

 

I found Jude and Mother posing in front a horde of photographers while Father was being interviewed by a group of reporters. Jude caught sight of me and approached, giving me a bouquet of forget me nots and lilies.

 

"Mother is livid. You just couldn't help yourself," he whispered in my ear before kissing my cheek.

 

I arched a brow. "What did I do?"

 

He shook his head, smiling wryly. "You get a pass. This time."

 

"Oh. Here. These are for you." I handed him my diplomas and awards. "I didn't get you anything for your birthday so I hope this will do for now."

 

His brows furrowed. "I can't accept these. You worked hard to earn them."

 

I snorted. "Please, I've worked harder on taking a shit."

 

He smiled, embracing me suddenly. "I'm so proud of you."

 

"Ugh. You're going to make me regret this, aren't you?"

 

He laughed, kissing the side of my head before pulling away. The photographers suddenly came around us, asking for us to pose this way and that. Jude put an arm around me while I consciously covered my face with the flowers and bowed my head to avoid the glaring of flashes that came our way.

 

Father wanted to visit the two hospitals we had here in New Jersey with Jude while Mother went back to New York, claiming to be tired. It was her way of saying she didn't want to get stuck with me. I didn't mind and just headed back home.

 

I was sitting on the couch with a tub of strawberry ice cream and watching Forrest Gump on the TV when the telephone rang. I paused the movie and got up to answer the call.

 

"Yo."

 

No one answered and I frowned, glancing at the phone screen to see if the call dropped but it hadn't.

 

"Hey, dumbass, I know you're there. Talk or I'll hang up."

 

"Is... Is Jude there?" a woman's reluctant voice stammered through the other end. "I... I can't reach his... his cell."

 

"He's out."

 

"Uh... when will he back?"

 

I rolled my eyes. "Hell if I know, lady. You need something?"

 

"No, I was… just worried... because I couldn't reach him. I thought… I thought something happened."

 

My brows furrowed. "You fucking him or something?"

 

She went quiet for a moment before saying, "No," in such a hush voice.

 

"Holy shit. You're fucking him." I grinned. "What's your name, sweetheart?"

 

"I... I have to go. Congrats on your graduation. Bye."

 

She hung up and I immediately hit redial but the bitch wouldn't pick up. I grabbed my phone and texted Jude.

 

HELP ME

 

Within thirty seconds, he was calling me. I answered on the first ring.

 

"What's wrong?" he immediately said.

 

"Nothing. I just needed you to pick up," I muttered. "A girl called. For you. Apparently, she's worried because you're not answering your phone." I heard him suck in a breath. "So you're not gay after all."

 

"I'll explain at dinner."

 

"You fucking bet you will."