Ugly Read online

  I turn my head away, looking out the window, completely and utterly mortified. In all my years with Dad, the way he spoke to me, the way he was, I was always prepared for him. Regardless of his mood swings, of what he’d say or do, I was always on guard.

  But Mr. Hackly is talking about me as if I’m trash. Nothing more than a thorn in his side, another mouth to feed. It makes me feel beyond small. I can’t even hide this from Trent, because he’s in the car as his dad continues to belittle and reduce me to something even more worthless than I already feel.

  “Okay, Dad,” Trent says as he puts a hand on my thigh and squeezes it. “Tomorrow I’ll take her to the doctor.”

  “I have my first shift at the store tomorrow.” I took the paperwork in before we left for the barbeque, and Stacey told me to come in tomorrow so she can have one of the others train me on the register.

  “See, son? Girls like her will always find an excuse.”

  The tears are streaming down my face. I feel like jumping out of the car and just ending it. This humiliation has to stop. I’m not sure I can continue a life like this.

  “She has to work, Dad. I’ll take her after work.”

  “Hmm, she’ll probably just make another excuse,” Trent’s dad says.

  “I’ll pick her up and take her. Cut it out,” Trent says back to his dad. “You okay?” he whispers to me. I don’t turn to look at Trent, instead I stare at the nondescript scenery we’re passing and focus on keeping my sobs silent.

  The rest of the car ride is quiet. No one says a word. How can anything be said? Mr. Hackly’s made it clear what he thinks of me, and I’m really not in a position to say anything to him. I should be grateful someone’s feeding me and caring for me. But if you call how Trent’s dad is treating me caring, then I suppose I really should look to move out.

  And that’s what I’ll do, the moment I can.

  By the time we get home, it’s nearly dusk. I go to my room, get my pajamas and go for a shower. When I get out, everyone is in the family room with the TV on, but it doesn’t seem like anyone is watching it. A wave of pure ice floats through the room, and suddenly I feel like a stranger. An unwanted guest as the six eyes stare at me. “Goodnight,” I say and quickly turn away.

  I run to my room, close the door and cover myself under the blanket. This is my fortress, my safe place, where no one can touch me.

  I lay awake and listen to the sounds. Muffled talking, Trent’s dad raises his voice, and Trent yells back. This continues for what feels like hours, but I look at the clock, and the angry red numbers tell me it’s been less than half an hour. I hear footsteps, and hold my breath. But the footsteps go upstairs. There’s louder talking, and now I know it’s only Trent and his dad left downstairs. Then no sound. No words, no footsteps, nothing.

  I take a desperate breath and wait. I’m not sure what exactly I’m waiting for, but something’s bound to happen. I can feel it. There’s tension, and it all revolves around me.

  Suddenly the door flings open, and I whimper as the door handle hits the wall.

  “What did you do, Lily?” Trent angrily asks. “What the hell did you do?”

  “Nothing! I didn’t do anything,” I plead. I’m not sure why I’m pleading. Maybe to make him believe me? I don’t know.

  “Uncle John said you kissed him.”

  “What? No!” I shout. “No, it wasn’t like that. I didn’t do anything. He came into the bathroom and started feeling me up.”

  “He said you told him you want to fuck him.”

  “No, I don’t. I don’t want to have sex. I certainly don’t want him. He scares me.”

  “He told Dad you’d say that.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me when it happened?”

  “I don’t know. I didn’t think you’d believe me and I didn’t think it was right to tell you seeing as we were together with everyone else. I didn’t want to start trouble.”

  “I don’t know what to believe, Lily.” Trent runs a hand through his hair and paces in my bedroom. “I just don’t fucking know.”

  “He put his hand on my thigh, and that’s when I ran to the bathroom because it scared me. Then he was waiting for me outside the bathroom, and he pushed on the door as I opened it and he…” I stop talking, and downcast my eyes.

  “That’s not what he said.”

  “That’s how it happened. I’m sorry for not telling you, but…”

  “There’s no damn ‘but’ in this equation. If you had told me what happened then, I’d believe you. But seeing as you’re telling me now after Uncle John told Dad, well now I’m fucking angry.”

  The damn tears quickly form in my eyes, and I’m absolutely dumbfounded by his words. He doesn’t believe me. “Sorry,” I say as loudly as I can, but the tightness in my throat isn’t allowing the sound to come out in anything but strangled noises.

  “Not good enough!” he yells and turns around to leave the room. Before he does, he puts his fist through the drywall, and I jump back at the raw explosion of anger. Trent leaves, slamming the door behind him.

  I can hear his angry, heavy steps as he stomps upstairs. I lay awake, huddled beneath the warmth and security of my blanket, just listening to the dead night air.

  The house is completely silent. Nothing can be heard, not a sound. It’s stark and cold, and completely isolated.

  I turn to watch the blinking lights of the alarm clock beside the bed. I can’t say ‘my’ alarm clock or ‘my’ bed. This can all be ripped away from me in the blink of an eye. I’m under no illusion I even own the clothes I’m sleeping in. Everything was paid for by the Hackly’s. Everything. Every morsel of food, every thread. They own everything.

  My eyes begin to drift shut as sleep slowly pulls me toward her. Maybe if I wake tomorrow, I’ll find this was just a bad dream. Maybe my life is just a bad dream. A constant nightmare I’m just waiting to wake up from.

  The black of slumber has claimed me, and I’m finally dragged into oblivion.

  BANG.

  I jump out of bed, quickly checking the room I’m sleeping in, but nothing seems out of place. My heart’s racing in my chest and my breathing is rapid and short. I stay still, listening for the noise that woke me. But I hear nothing.

  Letting out a huge gust of air, I get back in bed. The clock beside me is relentless, the time continuing to flash. It’s only been an hour since I fell asleep.

  Lying in bed, I let the native sounds carry me forward again to sleep. I don’t let the bang worry me, because Mr. Hackly or Trent would have come to check it out if it was something serious.

  It was probably a bat flying into the side of the house. It can’t be anything else. Right. Right?

  Sunday morning was incredibly strange in the Hackly home. I didn’t see Mrs. Hackly at all before I left for work, and Mr. Hackly and Trent were cold toward me.

  “You ready?” Trent asked, as he grabbed the keys from the hallway table and stood at the door. It was my cue to hurry up. Mr. Hackly didn’t even look at up at me from his tablet as he read the news.

  The ride to work was just as icy as the Hackly home. Trent tapped his thumbs on the steering wheel to a song that wasn’t even playing.

  I didn’t bother asking him if he was okay, because I already knew the answer. A lifetime with an alcoholic parent had taught me to never ask a question I already knew the answer to. As a matter of self-preservation, I shouldn’t say much anyway.

  Trent dropped me off at the grocery store, and told me in a no-nonsense way, “You’re going to give me sex tonight, and I’m taking you to the doctor after work to make sure you don’t become pregnant.” It wasn’t really a question; he wasn’t asking. He was telling.

  Shayne’s been teaching me what I need to do at work, and now it’s just before my break. Stacey put me on a register on my own, with Shayne on the one behind me so I can ask her questions if I need help. As the customers come through with their full shopping carts, I mindlessly scan each it
em. But all I can think about is tonight. It’s inevitable I’ll give him sex, I know that. But I was hoping it would happen when I was more ready.

  I hear someone ask me a question, and it brings me back to the present, and not what’s going to happen tonight. “Sorry?” I say to the old lady who’s standing in front of me with her few groceries.

  “I said you’re a very pretty girl,” she says, and smiles warmly at me.

  “Thank you,” I respond with a wan smile. Though deep down inside, I know she must be talking about Shayne. Shayne is beautiful. And so bubbly and outgoing. How can anyone not say she’s pretty?

  The old lady looks at my badge and squints to read it. “Oh, you’re training are you?” she asks as she adjusts the glasses perched on the bridge of her nose.

  “Yes, ma’am I am. This is my first day.” I scan one of the last products on the conveyor belt.

  “Your first day?” She shrills, then adds, “My goodness, you’ll be running this place before you know it.” She smiles again to me.

  For the first time in a long time, I feel something other than judgement. A complete stranger, a random elderly lady, isn’t looking at me like I’m trash. Her words are meant to give me strength and confidence, and I know these words, although they would be inconsequential to many, will live with me a lifetime.

  “Thank you,” I say, feeling my face brighten and my lips turn up in a genuine smile. I scan her last items, she pays for them and I wish her a fantastic day. She’ll never know the impact of the kindness she’s shown me, with just that one simple sentence.

  I begin to scan the next customer’s items and Luke, the manager of the cashiers, comes over and tells me to turn my light off. Shayne and I finish at the same time and I step away from the register, about to go to the staff room.

  “Hey, come out and grab some lunch with me,” she says happily.

  Damn, I didn’t bring anything with me, and I don’t have any money. “I’m not very hungry,” I respond, though truthfully my stomach is growling, though thankfully, not loud enough for her to hear. But it’s enough to remind me I want food.

  “My shout, come on, let’s go. We only have half an hour.” Shayne links our arms together and starts to lead the way outside. Next to the grocery store is a deli and we walk in there. “They make the best pastrami on rye. You like pastrami, right?”

  I can confidently say yes, because Mrs. Hackly has made it for me. “I do, especially with mustard.”

  “Two pastrami’s on rye, both with mustard. I’ll have a bottle of water and…” Shayne turns to me and motions just with her eyes what beverage I’d like.

  “Water too, please.”

  The lady serves us, and Shayne pays for our lunches. She goes out the door first, and walks down the street to a small park that has three tables and a set of swings. One of the tables is occupied by a mom who’s watching her daughter on the swing set.

  “So, tell me about yourself,” Shayne says as she sits, unwraps her sandwich and takes a bite.

  “Not really much to tell. I’m seventeen and about to graduate high school. How about you?”

  “Me? Well, I’m kind of stuck in this town. But I want to be an actress. I just need to save enough money to buy my ticket out of here. Been at the store for two years and I keep saving, but…” She shrugs and takes another bite.

  “But what?”

  “It’s hard to save anything on just under eight bucks an hour. I live on my own, and we have to pay our own medical insurance. It’s hard you know. I’m hoping one day I’ll be promoted and they can at least pay for my medical insurance.”

  “Why do you live on your own?” I bite into my delicious sandwich.

  “Mom split, and Dad died. Mom found herself a new guy who didn’t want a kid hanging around, so last year she told me I had two months to move out. I live in a garage that’s been converted to an apartment. The rent is cheap, and the people are real nice. They have a little girl and sometimes they ask me to babysit. When I do, they give me a break on my rent. But you know, it’s just hard.”

  I like Shayne. She’s not telling me her story for me to pity her. In fact I think she’s really level-headed about it. “This is my first job,” I say trying to swing the conversation.

  “Yeah, really? You’re doing really good,” she says. I’m dying to correct her English, but it’s not really my place to say anything to her. “What are you going to do with your first paycheck? Go out and party?” She does this little dance in her seat. It makes me laugh.

  “What was that?” I tease as I eat my lunch.

  “What? This?” She does the same wiggle but more exaggerated. We both laugh at her silly, innocent ways. “But really, what are you going to do? Not that you can drink, but you can have fun with your friends.”

  This changes the mood of the conversation. I put my sandwich down and grab my water, trying to restore that barrier up between us. “I just really want to buy a book.” I drink my water.

  “A book? How old are you?” her tone changes and she’s being sarcastic with me.

  “Yes, I know it’s probably really weird, but I had a favorite book and recently it was destroyed, and I want another copy. It’s not even a book; it’s a play.”

  Shayne looks at me strangely. “No, really, are you an eighty-year-old woman in disguise? I’m being punked, right?” She looks around her like she’s searching for something. It makes me laugh again. “Where are the cameras, grandma?” She stands and looks around.

  “Hi, Shayne,” a guy says as he walks past.

  “Hey, Liam. Am I being punked?” she asks the guy.

  “Not that I know of.” He keeps walking after he winks at her.

  “Seriously? A play?” She sits down but her eyes don’t move off the guy who walked past.

  “Yes, a play. And you can stop making fun of me for it.”

  “What’s the play?”

  “It’s called, The Crucible.”

  “Oh yeah?” Shayne sounds interested, like she’s heard of it.

  “Do you know it?” I ask hopeful we can share a love of the written word.

  “Nah, is it like a romance? I don’t read much. I mean I can read, just I don’t.” She shrugs her shoulders.

  “It’s a play by Arthur Miller.”

  “Oh, right.” She looks lost in the conversation.

  “He wrote Death of a Salesman.” She nods her head, though her face says she has no idea. “He was once married to Marilyn Monroe.”

  “Really?” Her eyes perk up now, she’s heard a familiar name.

  “Yeah, really. Anyway, that’s what I want. Another copy of The Crucible.”

  “This town is small if you haven’t noticed already. Maybe you’ll need to order it from the book shop. Anyway, where are you from?”

  “Just a couple of suburbs over, but now I’ve moved here.”

  “With your parents?” she asks innocently, as she drinks the last of her water.

  “No, not quite. My um, my boyfriend and his parents.”

  She puts her water bottle down and her eyebrows fly up. “Wooooo,” she teases. “You have a boyfriend. Is he cute?”

  “Yeah, he is,” I say, though don’t say anything else.

  “Shit, Lily. We gotta go. Our break’s almost over.”

  We both stand and start walking back to the store, and just as we reach it, I see Mr. Hackly’s car parked outside with Trent leaning against the car. “I’ll meet you inside,” I tell Shayne and jog over to Trent. “Hey,” I say.

  “Where the fuck were you?” he asks and grabs the top of my arm and pulls me toward him.

  “Shayne took me out for lunch.”

  “Who the hell is this Shayne guy?”

  “No, it’s not like that. Shayne’s the girl who I was walking back with. We went to the deli and then to the park around the corner to eat.”

  “Yeah right, Lily. Like a girl has a name like Shayne. Shayne’s a damn guy’s name. I don’t fucking believe you.” He squeezes his finge
rs tighter around the top of my arm.

  “Ow. You’re hurting me,” I say as I look at his hand, then back into his angry brown eyes. His face is livid, he looks so mad with me. “Come inside, I’ll introduce you to her.” He lets out a ragged breath, and his eyes hold on to his fury, his rage clearly consuming him. And this now scares me, because he’s reminding me of how Dad was. “Please don’t be angry with me,” I say trying to calm him.

  His grip lessens slightly, as I cuddle into him and lay my head on his shoulder. “Okay, introduce me,” he says in a calmer tone.

  “Thank you.” I stretch my neck up and kiss him on the lips. “Thank you,” I repeat.

  “Just introduce me,” he says sourly. We walk hand in hand into the store, and Shayne is already working.

  “Hurry up, Lily,” she says, as she looks over her shoulder toward the rear of the store.

  I quickly get in and check my register, and do every step Shayne has showed me up to now. “Shayne, this is Trent, Trent this is Shayne.”

  “Nice to meet you,” she joyfully says. “Sorry, but we’re busy. Maybe we’ll hang out one time after work or something.”

  “Yeah, that’s a good idea,” Trent says. Then he turns to me and kisses me chastely on the lips. “I’ll pick you up at five. Bye, baby. I love you.” He doesn’t leave though. He stands and waits for me to say something to him.

  “Thank you.” I start to scan my first customer’s groceries. But Trent still doesn’t leave. “I’ll be ready by five.”

  “That’s it?” he challenges as he looks over to Shayne then back to me. “I love you,” he says again.

  He wants me to say it back to him. I don’t know what love is. It’s never been given to me, and I’m not sure if I’ve ever given it to anyone. I like Trent. When he doesn’t get angry with me, he’s nice. He can be fun, caring, and protective. But love? I don’t know what it is. Maybe I do love him, maybe this is what it feels like.

  I smile at him as I keep scanning the lady’s groceries. “I love you,” I say for the first time in my life. But, I feel nothing. They’re just words, just like any other in the English spoken language. Maybe that’s all they are. Just words.