Chapter One
My eyes flutter open when I hear Nick stirring in his room. I shoot out of bed and throw my clothes on; I've learned to shower late at night so I will be faster getting ready. I brush my teeth, run a brush through my hair, and am down the stairs as I hear Nick's shower turn off in his room. I've got perfect timing, which is lucky for me. I pull out a pan and begin frying eggs. They have to be cooked over-medium. Too runny and I definitely won't be eating today. If I break the yolk….that will be serious trouble for me. Luckily I have mastered the art of perfectly frying the eggs. Some toast and a glass of orange juice completes the meal. I set it on the table and sit down, waiting.
Nick comes down the stairs and sits down, shoveling the eggs in his mouth. I wait, hoping he's in a good mood today. He finishes the eggs and looks at me while he gulps down the orange juice. "I don't know why you are sitting here staring at me while I eat. That is rude and unbecoming of you." His steely blue eyes unnerve me.
I clear my throat, trying to sum up the courage to speak. "Sir, I wanted to ask you if I could make myself two eggs for breakfast."
He laughed coldly, shaking his head while he gets up. "Do you really think that's a good idea Kimberly? You don't want to end up with a fat ass like your mother. No, I think you need to skip breakfast today. And since you've decided to be gluttonous this morning, no lunch either. Don't think I won't check to see if you bought lunch at school." With that he walks out of our front door. I wait until I hear his Suburban back out of the driveway and the sound fades away as it drives down the road. I pack up my backpack and begin the walk to school. The late bell doesn't ring for another hour, but it is a couple of miles to school and I can't be late. My stomach grumbles and I sigh.
Nick entered our life the day after my thirteenth birthday. Mom was at work when she met him. She waitressed at a Gentleman's Club off the interstate; she didn't do any of the dancing but I often saw her come home with large amounts of cash and I decided early on it was better not to ask where it came from. She called Nick her "Prince Charming", saying she didn't see what he saw in her. He is the Principal at La Push High School, where I go to school now. I loved my mother but I couldn't help but agree with her- why did Nick dote on her so much, and marry her just months after they began seeing each other? It wasn't long before Nick, sweet and charismatic, someone who I was excited to have as a new father, changed. It began subtly; he asked Mom to quit her job, saying he wanted her to focus on our home and raising me. Then he began to demand looking at her phone every day, getting suspicious over every phone call, every text message. The insults began after a year of their marriage. He told her she was fat, he called her stupid, told her she was nothing without him. I would hear him at night screaming at her for the smallest indiscretions. She wasn't allowed to leave the house without asking for permission, and soon that became a rule for me as well. My mother was never a confident woman but soon she shrank inside of herself, shaking all of the time. I never saw him lay a hand on her but I knew it happened; I saw bruises on her arms and occasionally on her face. I remember the last conversation that we had, where I begged her to leave him.
"Mom, please, he hurts you…I know he does! I'm afraid to be here." I was trying not to cry when I said this. She looked at me and I saw nothing but blankness in her eyes.
"And then what Kimberly? I have no job; we wouldn't be able to stay on La Push if I left him. He would find us and he will kill me. When your father left us I had nothing. I had to do so many things to support us…to support you. I just want to provide for us, and sometimes in order to do that a woman has to make sacrifices. I know you'll learn this one day."
I shook my head at this. "No Mom, you should be with someone because you love him and they are kind and caring towards you! We can call the police and-"
Her hand shot out and slapped me so quickly I didn't react; I was too shocked. My eyes welled up with tears. "Don't you ever suggest that again," she snapped. "I love Nick and he loves me. You need to learn some respect." Her voice trembled.
My mother had never hit me before. With that I ran upstairs to my room and stayed there for the rest of the night. I heard Nick screaming at my mother. "You're a stupid bitch! I could leave you now and you'd be nothing. No one would love you and you know it. You may as well kill yourself because your life is worthless. You have no life without me." I heard a gagging sound. He was choking her. I stayed in my bed, too afraid and too upset to move. Soon she gasped for air as he released her. I heard the front door open and shut, then I fell asleep to my mother crying, begging Nick to come back home. When I got up the next morning I found Mom, lying on the bathroom floor in her own vomit. The official report was that she had overdosed on painkillers Nick kept for chronic back pain. With my father out of the picture completely, guardianship was awarded to Nick. It wasn't long before I was under his strict control; I had taken my mother's place in his life. I could do nothing without his approval; the smallest mistake, or even a bad mood on his part, is all it would take to set him off.
I shake my head. Reminiscing over the past won't help. I was fifteen when Mom died. I have been under Nick's control for over a year now. Since then I have learned to keep my head down, keep living my life being as unnoticed as possible. I used to have a large group of friends, but as Nick's control got more firm, the time I could spend with them shrank, and soon they moved on to ignoring me. I am a junior at La Push now and it is safe to say I am the biggest loner of all. Adding that to the fact that my stepfather is the principal? No one wants to come near me except the ones who tease me. And there are quite a few of those. Namely Paul Lahote and his friends. Nick knows it happens but if anything he finds it funny.
"Hey baby! Come on Kimmy, don't leave me hanging. I know you want to give me a piece of that tail!" Speak of the devil. As soon as I walk into school Paul accosts me. His usual group of adoring female fans laughs at me. His best friend Jared rolls his eyes at Paul but laughs too.
Jared. Just thinking the name brings a blush to my cheeks. I duck my head down and scurry away from them as quickly as I can. So much for lying low today. I take my seat in the back of my first period classroom just as the bell begins to ring. I sit in the back of every class; having no phone, TV, or computer privileges at home, I have ample time to study. My classes come very easily to me so during lectures I generally zone out, trying to imagine a different life for myself. A life where I can do what I want after graduation, a life where I feel valued, a life where I am loved. Most of these daydreams revolve around a certain someone.
I have been in love with Jared Cameron for as long as I remember. La Push is a small reservation of Quileute's so we have been in the same classes together since kindergarten. Jared has always run with the more popular crowd at school, partially because he is best friends with Paul but also because he is so likeable. He is one of the class clowns, always has been. But teachers have always adored him despite his troublemaking in the classroom. He makes everyone laugh; people are drawn to him. Of course, he has never even spoken to me. Actually, that's not true. About a year ago I was entering history class after lunch, and he gave me one look and said, "Dude, you have nacho cheese all over your shirt." Which of course caused the class to laugh. I don't really think that counts as him talking to me.
The bell rings for the next period and I shake my head. Jared will never talk to me; my fantasies with him are pointless. And even if he talked to me, even if he liked me, then what? Nick would never let me date. I will be shackled to him forever. I make my way to Chemistry class, the class Jared and I have together. He saunters in with Paul shortly after the bell rings.
Our teacher, Mr. Campbell, glares at them as they take their seats. "Late again boys. You know your grades get penalized due to tardiness?"
Jared, sitting at the table in front of me, leans back in his chair. "C'mon Mr. Campbell! I value chemistry so much, and so does Paul. We were just studying the chemistry we share with a couple of the sophomore girls!" The class snickers.
"Enough, enough. Let's just move on from that, shall we? Today we are going to be covering chemical reactions…." I stare at the back of Jared's head the whole class. It is pathetic, I know, but I can't help it. I have always felt so drawn to him and I don't know why. He has a boyish look to his face, and that combined with his charm has always made him irresistible to me, as well as about every other girl at La Push High. And he takes full advantage of that. I see him with a different girl every month. To his credit he is not as bad as Paul, who has a new girl at least every week. I wonder what it would be like to have Jared as a boyfriend? I bet his arms would feel so strong around me. And his lips…
"Miss Conneweiler?" I snap my head up as the teacher says my name impatiently. The class is in snickers yet again. "I asked if you wouldn't mind finishing balancing this chemical equation I've written on the board."
I stand up nervously and shuffle to the front of the class. The equation is simple to me and I finish it quickly. "Very good, Kim! That is correct."
"Wow, the nerd got the Chemistry question right," Paul mutters. "That's a shocker." Jared chuckles and I know my face is beet red now.
"Quiet from the peanut gallery, please?" Mr. Campbell sure knows how to make my humiliation worse: "You know, if some of you would just study for half the amount of time that Miss Conneweiler does, you might actually be doing well in my class."
"And we would have no life and no friends…." Another tormenter, Kaitlyn Summers, says as she rolls her eyes. I am mortified. I nervously push my glasses higher on my nose as I try to walk back to my seat as quickly as possible. Of course on the way to my seat in the back Paul sticks out his foot and I trip, stumbling into my table. The class laughs. Mr. Campbell opens his mouth to say something but the bell rings. Thank God. I gather my books and leave before the rest of the class is even out of their seats.
The rest of the day goes by more smoothly. Sadly the only other period I share with Jared is lunch, and he wouldn't be caught dead sitting with me. Neither would anyone else. I am alone, and on top of that I have no food, so I choose to read a book so I can ignore the occasional rude comment spoken about me as students pass me by. It also makes the smell of food and the grumbling of my stomach less unbearable. As the school day comes to an end, I am exhausted due to the fact I haven't eaten since lunch yesterday. I know food is just another way for Nick to control me. The worst part is that everyone at school loves him. He is a tough principal but students respect him. Teachers worship the ground he walks on. And if I didn't know the real Nick I wouldn't blame them. He has a charisma that draws people in. I am the only one who sees his other side.
The walk home is brutal. It is starting to rain and despite the fact that I am wearing my rain jacket I still get soaked. I enter the house and immediately start cooking dinner. Nick usually arrives home a couple of hours after me and he expects dinner to be ready, but not cold, so I have to get the timing right. I make his favorite meal, lasagna, hoping to win his favor so he will let me eat. I tense up as soon as I hear his Suburban pull up. I have heard teachers ask him before why I don't catch a ride with him to school, but he tells them I don't want to seem "un-cool" riding with the principal to school and so they stopped asking. In reality, according to Nick, I don't deserve a ride to school. I am too ungrateful and spoiled to begin with and he doesn't want to make it worse.
He sits down at the table and I serve him food and a glass of wine, his usual after-work drink. He begins to eat and I stand by the stove, unsure whether I should ask again for food. He stares at me and barks impatiently, "Don't just stand there. Make a plate."
Thank God. I fill about a quarter of my plate with lasagna, knowing if I put more on there like I want to, he will take it away. Once the first bite touches my tongue I can't help but practically inhale the food; I am so hungry. When I finish he sneers at me. "You are such a cow. Just like your mother was."
I cast my gaze down at my plate. I am skinny, I have only lost weight since Mom died and Nick began controlling my meals, but his constant comments still sting. I stand up to clear his plate and he suddenly grabs my arm, jerking me closer. He squeezes so tight I shut my eyes in pain. I already have bruises there and this will only make them worse.
"Say it." He jerks me again.
I can feel fear slither down my spine. He is definitely in a mood. "Say…what?" I whisper.
He stands up now, gripping my other arm just as tightly. His words are calm and deliberate, which is scarier than when he yells. "Tell me what a cow you are."
I know better than to refuse. My voice shakes as I mumble, "I am a cow."
He gives me a small shove. "A stupid cow, that's for sure." He takes his glass of wine, and the bottle, and retreats to the living room. I sigh with relief. That could have been a lot worse. I clean up the kitchen and go upstairs to my room. I have done my homework for the week but studying up here is much safer than staying downstairs.
My clock reads 9:00 when I hear him stumble up the stairs. He must have had a lot of that wine. I shut my eyes and pray that he will just go to his room. No such luck. He pushes my door open and it slams against the wall, making me jump. "What the hell is this." He is holding his empty wine glass.
I know it doesn't matter what I say. He is looking for a reason to torment me. "It's…your wine glass sir."
"It is isn't it." He slurs. Suddenly he slams it on the ground and it shatters into pieces. He rushes towards me and yanks me by the hair until I am standing. "And how the hell is it supposed to get clean? Hmm? With your lazy ass up here doing nothing it is just going to stay down there dirty all night!"
My scalp is burning where he is still pulling on my hair. I begin to whimper. "I was just waiting until you were finished with it! I swear-"
"You are such a lying bitch!" He shoves me to the ground, right where the shards of glass lay on floor, I cry out as I feel a piece dig into my hand. His foot comes into contact with my ribs as he kicks hard, knocking the wind out of me. I cover my face and crouch into a ball. I get a few more kicks but he misses my face. Can't leave any evidence for people to see. "You are worthless." He repeats this with every kick. I can't help but beg him to stop as pain shoots around my entire body. Finally, he does. "This had better be cleaned up by the morning, or you're going to regret the day you were born."
With that he leaves me. I shakily stand up and pull the piece of glass out of my hand. Nothing feels broken, but I am limping a bit as I go down the stairs to get the dustpan. I clean up the glass and then peek down the hall to Nick's room. The lights are off and I can hear his snores. It's safe to shower now. I turn it on and remove my clothes, inspecting the damage tonight has done to my body. I hate mirrors. My face is sunken in, bags so dark under my eyes I look like a zombie. My eyes are just like my mom's were towards the end…lifeless. Despite eating this evening I can still see my ribs poking out. Bruises in the shape of fingers dot my upper arms. Those are almost always there. Now my stomach and ribs are getting red. I know fresh bruises will be there tomorrow. My ankle is definitely twisted from landing on the ground. My hand is bleeding from the glass, but luckily it isn't a deep wound. I step into the shower and let the warm water soothe some of the pain. I used to take my time in the shower to cry, but tears won't come anymore. I feel so numb, and tears don't help me anyway.
Nothing can help me anymore.