Ugly Page 5

  I shake my head, wrap my arms over my chest and look down. I don’t want them asking questions, because they’ll only think I’m stupid for staying there and not leaving. But really, where was I supposed to go? I have no one. Not a living soul who would take me and care for me…until now.

  Mrs. Hackly goes about cleaning and dressing my wounds. With nothing more than her soft humming and kind words, she cares for me. When she finishes tending to my wounds she stands back and smiles, pleased with herself. “Now, I have a t-shirt and sweatpants you can wear. I’ll talk to Mr. Hackly and see what we can do about getting you some new clothes tomorrow.”

  “I have some second-hand clothes I got from the charity shop back at…” I pause and point toward the door. Back where? Home? Hell? What do I call it?

  “That’s alright, dear. We’ll see what we can do, okay?” She smiles sweetly to me.

  I nod my head and look down at the tiled floor again. The cold of the tiles is snaking its way through my body. An icy chill grips every part of me and I shiver. I feel goosebumps quickly forming on my skin.

  Mrs. Hackly sees me shiver and runs her hands up and down my arms. “I’ll get you those clothes. I won’t be long.” And with that she leaves and softly closes the door behind her.

  I’m left naked in the bathroom waiting for her to return. I look around the pristine room and notice how everything sparkles because it’s so incredibly clean. There are three hand towels and they’re in alignment, one not hanging lower than the other two. The labels of the shampoo and conditioner in the shower all face outwards. Everything is beyond picture-perfect.

  The door opens and Mrs. Hackly comes back into the room carrying a gray, long-sleeved t-shirt and black sweatpants. “Here you go, Lily. Why don’t get you changed and come out. I’ll be waiting outside the door.”

  “Thank you,” I respond immediately. The moment the door closes, I get dressed.

  When I get to the door and open it, Mrs. Hackly is standing outside, eagerly waiting. “You already look better. Come, I’ll make you something to drink and eat.”

  “As in real food?” I ask, not really thinking before the words tumble out.

  “Of course. We have left over pot roast and how about a glass of warm milk?”

  “Fresh milk?” I sound like I’m salivating, and truthfully, I am.

  She walks us into the kitchen where Trent and Mr. Hackly are standing at the counter, talking. The moment we enter, their conversation ceases and Trent comes over to stand beside me. “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, thank you,” I reply and look away from the intense stare of Mr. Hackly.

  “Here, sit down, Lily. Mom, get her a drink,” Trent says as he pulls a chair out for me.

  “Yes, son,” she says, as she gets the milk out of the fridge and proceeds to pour some into a mug and heats it in the microwave.

  I sit in the seat Trent has pulled out for me, and he sits beside me. But the room is eerily quiet, like we’re all waiting for something to happen. My heart pounds in my chest and I can feel three sets of eyes on me, but one is the hardest, and most intense.

  “Tell me about yourself, Lily,” Mr. Hackly’s harsh tone rips across my skin like a hot knife cutting through butter.

  “Um, I’m Lily and um, I’m seventeen. I um…” Nerves overtake me and I burst into tears.

  “Dad,” Trent says as he rubs a hand along my back. “We talked about this, just leave her alone for now.”

  I look up at the fire burning in Mr. Hackly’s eyes. “We did talk about it. And Trent has already told us what he knows about your father and your…” he pauses, but tilts his head to indicate the bruising and bandage on my face. “But, if you’re going to be living here, then I’ll need to know what it is you’ve had to deal with,” he says. “Not tonight, because I can see how upset you are, but by the weekend.”

  Mrs. Hackly returns with a cup of warm milk for me, and a bowl of pot roast, gravy, and vegetables. The food smells fantastic and so appetizing. I can’t even remember the last time I had anything homemade.

  She stands on the other side of the table, and waits. For what, I’m not sure. Maybe to see if I like the food, maybe to see if I need anything. I’ve never experienced anything like this before.

  “You can sleep in the guest room downstairs, next to the bathroom. Lina, sit,” Mr. Hackly says.

  “Thank you, sir,” I say, offering the only thing I have, a kind word to show my appreciation.

  Mr. Hackly and Trent talk quietly between them. Mrs. Hackly silently listens and I eat the most delicious thing I’ve ever tasted. The two men talk about me, making plans for me and even discuss taking me to the mall to buy me new clothes.

  In this moment a fleeting thought passes by me. I’ve seen healthy family dynamics at school and on the street with loving families, but I’ve never really understood them. I’ve always been a spectator with my nose pressed against the glass, desperately attempting to climb through. Now though, I think it may be my turn for a family.

  I’ve been living with Trent and his parents for ten days now and I’ve even been back to school for a few days. I went back when I could cover the bruises and I wore large sunglasses I borrowed from Trent’s mom. No one noticed; no one asked. I’m still trying to understand exactly where I fit in. It took two days before Mr. Hackly sat me down and asked me about my home life with Dad. He simply sat and listened and nodded his head. Not once did he meet my eyes, and not once did he say anything negative. As a matter of fact, once I finished telling him about my life, his lips drew up in the smallest of smiles and he thanked me for trusting him enough to tell him.

  But it’s not really trust. I figured I owed him an explanation, seeing as he was kind enough to open his home to me and allowed me to stay.

  I’ve also noticed how Trent’s mom doesn’t really say much. She sits at the dinner table after Mr. Hackly and Trent have been seated, she doesn’t start her dinner until Mr. Hackly picks his fork up. She’s always the last one to go to bed, and the first one up every morning. I’ve had ten days of full breakfasts and hot dinners.

  In the mornings, Mr. Hackly comes into the kitchen dressed in his suit, takes the coffee cup Mrs. Hackly holds out for him, sits at the head of the table, and eats his breakfast. When he’s through, he gets up and leaves. Trent and I walk to the bus stop and get on our busses for school.

  But for some reason, although the Hackly family looks normal, there’s still something just not quite right. The relationship between Mr. Hackly, Trent, and his mom seems a bit off.

  Trent and I have grown closer, which is surprising because I never thought I’d open up to anyone. Trent often tells me how beautiful I am. When Mr. Hackly is in the room with us, I often catch him looking at me. His stare is obvious, and he makes no attempt to look away from me. It shouldn’t make me feel uncomfortable, because he’s never said or done anything inappropriate. But for some reason, I just feel yucky when I notice him staring.

  “We’re coming up to the end of the school year. How do you feel, Miss Valedictorian? I’m really proud of you, Lily. Even Dad said how impressed he is with your 3.9 GPA, especially with everything that’s happened.”

  I walk along, hand in hand with Trent and just take in the rays of the glorious sun. Summer will be here before I know it, and it means the end of school. “Yeah, I’m happy with it. Doesn’t mean much though, with me not being able to go to college.”

  “If you had the chance to go, and do anything you want, what would you do?” Trent asks as he swings our joined hands and brings them up to kiss my knuckles.

  I look at him and smile, happy in this moment. “I’d like to teach English a the high school level. But that’s just wishful thinking. I know we only have a few weeks left of school and I’ll need to find a job. I can’t expect your mom and dad to support me.”

  “What about a scholarship?” Principal Murphy told me I should get someone interested in giving me a scholarship, but we’re nearing the end of school and I’ve hear
d nothing – which means no one noticed me.

  It’s not a bad thing, not being noticed. Sometimes it’s better that way. It’s hard to explain to people why I don’t talk much, or why I keep my eyes on the ground. I’m getting better, but I’m not sure I’ll ever really be normal.

  I shake my head at Trent, silently telling him there have been no offers.

  “I find that really hard to believe. I got offered a partial scholarship and my GPA was 3.5, so I don’t know why you weren’t offered at least a partial one.”

  “I don’t know what to tell you.” I shrug my shoulders and lower my eyes as we keep walking toward the bus stop.

  We reach it with a few minutes to spare, and Trent hugs me. It’s the first time he’s been so publicly affectionate with me, and I find it strange. I wiggle around in his embrace, feeling self-conscious. Maybe people are staring and thinking, ’What’s that cute guy doing with such an ugly, stupid girl?’

  “Hey, where did you go?” Trent asks as he smooths my hair down with his big hand. “I lost you and I don’t want that to happen.” He leans in and kisses my nose.

  “I was just thinking.” I look down at the new sport shoes Mrs. Hackly bought for me, and back up into Trent’s eyes.

  Trent takes a deep breath in, looks to his left and sees the bus coming. “Your bus is here. I’ll see you this afternoon. I’ll be waiting right here,” he says, as he kisses my cheek and lets go of my hand.

  I get on the bus and sit at the front at one of the window seats. As the bus pulls away, I look back to Trent who raises his hand and waves to me.

  “Lily Anderson to the principal’s office. Lily Anderson to the principal’s office,” comes over the loudspeaker while I’m in my English class.

  Mrs. Richards looks up from the desk and says, “Lily, you can pack your desk and go.”

  Silently, I pack my bag and leave the classroom, making my way to the office.

  When I get there, I sit and wait for the office staff to tell Mr. Murphy I’m here. I’m not sure why I’m being summoned. I haven’t done anything wrong.

  “Lily,” Mr. Murphy says as he comes out of his office and looms over me. “Come into my office.” He leads me in and I sit down, waiting for him to tell me whatever it is he has to say. “You’re almost finished with high school. What are your plans for the summer?”

  “I need to get a job, but I’m not qualified for anything. So I’ll see if I can get a job at the supermarket.”

  “That’s admirable, to save some money before you head to college?”

  He links his fingers together, like he’s praying and leans his arms on the chipped and old desk.

  “I’m not going to college,” I say as I purse my lips together, not really wanting to say why.

  “Why? A mind like yours shouldn’t be wasted in a supermarket. Don’t get me wrong, I’m impressed you want to get a job instead of hanging with your friends at the beach the entire summer, but you can’t just get a job and stay there. A supermarket is not for you. You need to be in college, studying something that will make a difference.”

  I look down at my shoes. I can’t really tell him why I can’t go. He’ll think I’m stupid.

  “Lily?” he questions. When I look up, his bushy gray eyebrows are drawn in tight, and he’s looking at me with a lot of concern. “Why can’t you go? Is it money?”

  I nod my head, and look down again.

  “What about the scholarships that have been offered to you? Berkley, Brown, University of Pennsylvania, even Princeton. They all want you, full scholarships.”

  I look up again, and Mr. Murphy is smiling at me, clearly telling me this is not some kind of joke. “No, Sir. No one has approached me. I’ve had no interviews, no letters, nothing. You must have me mistaken for someone else.” I’m stupid. It can’t be me.

  “I see,” he says leaning back in his chair and moving his hands so they’re on his lap. “Well then, we have a problem.” He moves again, opens his drawer to the right and takes out a stack of papers. “You see, Lily, when the first one contacted me and wanted to know why you hadn’t replied I thought maybe one of the offers didn’t make it to you. Then two days later, another university called to say you hadn’t replied. Then a third, and a fourth.”

  What does that even mean? Some of the top universities of America want me? Is that even right? I look over my shoulder outside the door, then turn to look over my other shoulder. I just want to make sure no one is going to jump out from behind a potted plant and yell “Gotcha!” putting the joke on me.

  “I thought it was really odd that all these colleges want you, and you had not even been courteous enough to reply. But the more they called me, the more I thought, this is not like you.” I look at Mr. Murphy, not sure what to say. “You never received any offers, did you, Lily?”

  Damn, damn, damn. “No, Sir,” I finally say after a few seconds of quiet. My Dad must have thrown them away.

  “I didn’t think so. I’ve spoken to every one of them and convinced them to give you until the end of the week to make a decision.”

  “That’s tomorrow,” I say, as I look up into the kind and gentle eyes of Mr. Murphy.

  “Yes, it is. But these four universities are offering you full scholarships.” He taps on the small pile. “These here are offering you partial scholarships.” He taps on a second, bigger pile. “In this pile, there’s one of the top universities in America.” He indicates the ones offering full scholarships. “And in this pile, there’s a university that’s furthest away from here, in case distance away is a factor.” His tone drops, and in that one sentence, I know Mr. Murphy knows.

  He may not understand everything, but he’s most likely picked up on something.

  “Thank you, Sir,” I say as I feel my eyes begin to water.

  “You should have come to me, Lily. Whatever is happening at home, whatever it is, I could’ve helped.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I say, simply to placate him so he doesn’t feel any responsibility for how my dad has treated me.

  But in truth, how could anyone have helped me with the hell-hole that was my home?

  “Take these and look at them. Come into my office first thing in the morning, and we’ll make the phone call together,” he says as he stands, offering me the pile of full scholarships. I eye the other pile, but I know without a full scholarship I won’t be able to go to university.

  I tuck them into the new bag Mrs. Hackly bought me, and I walk out of Mr. Murphy’s office.

  For the first time in as long as I can remember, I can breathe. I can take a step toward tomorrow and know tonight won’t be filled with words of hate.

  “Hey, sweetheart. How was your day?” Trent greets me at the bus stop.

  “Good. Actually, really good,” I enthusiastically answer.

  Trent wraps his arms around me and gives me a kiss on my cheek. “Really good, huh? Tell me about it.” We start walking toward his home.

  “I got offered full scholarships to four universities. Actually, I got offered more, but these four are full scholarships.”

  “What? That’s fantastic. Wait…” he stops talking, going perfectly quiet as we keep walking home. “You’re not leaving me, Lily,” his tone changes and he sounds angry. “Unless one of those universities is the same as the one I’m going to, you’re not allowed to go.” He sounds angry with me.

  “Not allowed to go? What do you mean?” I ask.

  Trent lets go of my hand and walks away from me. He stops a few feet away, and puts his hands on his hips. He’s really angry with me. “You’re not going if I’m not with you, end of fucking story, Lily.”

  “What?” I still don’t know what I’ve done wrong.

  “I’m not going to have you running around sucking another guy’s cock when you should be with me.”

  Wait…what did he say? “I’ve never done that,” I say as I take a step closer to him. He counters with one step back and my eyes go to his hands. I see them closed into fists and my heart beats
faster.

  I take a cautious step back, completely aware of how Trent’s body is reacting. This is how Dad would get before the insults would start, sometimes followed by his fists.

  “Just don’t think you’re ever going to leave me,” he says, his tone somewhat calmer. “I’ll never let you go, Lily.” He relaxes his hands and he takes a step toward me.

  I take another step back, frightened he may hurt me.

  “Don’t move away from me. I promise, I won’t hurt you. I like you too much to hurt you,” he whispers as he takes another step toward me, closing the gap. “I’m sorry if I scared you, it’s just that I need you close to me, do you understand? I need to keep you safe, so I know no one can hurt you.”

  When we get home, Mrs. Hackly is folding the washing. “Hello. Need some help?” I ask as she’s folding someone’s dark shorts.

  “No, dear. How about I make you kids something to eat? You must be hungry?” She finishes folding the shorts, puts them in a pile, and goes into the kitchen before Trent or I can say anything to her.

  “Hey. Let’s go to my room and have a look at which university you’re going to go to.”

  “Your mom is getting us food ready.”

  “Don’t worry about that, we’ll eat at dinner, let’s go.” He starts tugging me up the stairs.

  “Let me tell your mom, so she doesn’t waste her time.”

  “Don’t worry about her, she’ll figure it out.”

  “Trent, please,” I beg, looking up at him.

  He takes a deep breath, rolls his eyes and gives me a half nod. “Hurry up,” he instructs, in a grumpy voice.

  I run into the kitchen just to let Mrs. Hackly know Trent and I are upstairs in his room, looking over university applications. She slumps her shoulders slightly and nods, looking at me from what she was doing with a slight sad smile.