A/N: This chapter is more like a series of mini-chapters, too short to post on their own. I kind of like them though. This is the part of the story that leads up to the Christmas chapters, which are some of my personal favorites. I wish I could've lined them up with the actual holiday season, but oh well. It did snow over the weekend in the Northeast, so… That's actually why this took so long, our power was out for a few days and it SUCKED. I felt like I lived in the 1700s. Enough complaining. Thanks so much for the reviews and please enjoy!
Gary hated Christmas. Once December 1st rolled around, his mood always took a dive. This year, he wasn't sure just how much more sour it could become. He had hated Christmas since he was little, when he discovered that his dad and his brother left, they took Santa and all the magic of the holiday with them. He hated the lights, the eggnog, the caroling, anything remotely associated with December 25th. He hated the fact that things had not been the same since he had last seen his father.
Gary's father was, in essence, all of the things that his mother had not or would ever be. He was kind and thoughtful, and nearly everyone loved him. That included Annemarie, who had met Neil Smith at the wrong Smith family reunion when they were both twenty-two, before she was haggard and washed up. Annemarie and Neil had the same last name, which led to a lot of confusion between families and a consult with a genealogist to make sure they were, in fact, not related. Believe it or not, Annemarie was not stupid. She had gone to a junior college, gotten her associates in computer technology, and was able to hold down both a good job and a man. She was pretty and witty, and that was probably why Neil Smith fell in love with her, despite the fact they could possibly be related. It took a year and half for them to get married, and then another eight months to get pregnant, and it looked like life was going to be just amazing as everyone thinks it's actually going to be.
When Reilly was born, Annemarie knew that something was wrong. Her daughter was beautiful, yes, and being a new mother was exactly what she expected it to be, but Reilly was not like most babies. She didn't scream or yell, and sometimes Annemarie didn't know whether she was going to find her daughter blue-faced in her crib. The doctors admitted that Reilly had serious medical problems, she had been born early, but not early enough that she had to be in the NICU. Reilly survived babyhood, was able to take her first steps, and eventually ran across the house. In fact, she was the light of their lives, even if she was a bit more fragile than most children. Happy, Neil and Annemarie got pregnant again, and they were sure it was a raucous boy this time, judging by her morning sickness and the constant kicking. Reilly, who was four, was more than excited to have another playmate. Seven and a half months pregnant, Annemarie stopped in her daughter's room to check on her slumber. Reilly sat up in bed, when she usually fell right to sleep as soon as the light was switched off.
She had been suspecting that Reilly was catching a cold, but Neil insisted that they not worry until they spotted a runny nose. Annemarie had a tendency to be paranoid about her daughter, which annoyed him sometimes. Switching on the light, Annemarie looked intently at her, noting that her coloring was off.
"Mommy... It hurts to... breathe." Reilly wheezed, looking back at her.
By the time that Neil had called the rescue squad, Annemarie was noting the spots of pink flecked across the tissues that her daughter coughed into. Whatever was happening was not normal, and once she loaded into the back of the ambulance, it was all too clear. In the hospital, they hooked Reilly up to machines and took her temperature and gave her medicine all before explaining to her parents what was happening. The ever-beeping screen above her bed declared that the little girl's temperature was 104.6, and it seemed to be climbing.
Hours and hours passed and Reilly was packed in ice packs, and then it seemed to be stable. But her eyes remained closed, seeming asleep but Annemarie knew that it wasn't so. Pneumonia, the doctors reported, made worse by the fact by the girl was so weak. Her temperature was high, her lungs filled with fluid, coughing up blood, everything pointed to it, and as the doctors explained, Annemarie could feel her world crashing. Neil detached from reality as Reilly went from critical to much worse.
They buried her three days after she went to the hospital. How could their family be ruined so quickly? Annemarie didn't know how to cope. A week ago she loved her life and adored her husband and her children, but now she had lost a child and missed the real Neil so much that she thought she might crack. The child inside her meant nothing now, and if she couldn't have it all back, what was the point? She carried Gary to term and then left emotionally and mentally, crawling into places that promised her quiet from all her aches and pains. She didn't want Neil without Reilly and she didn't want her second child without the first. Instead of being therapeutic for Annemarie, Gary was just a reminder that her daughter was gone and would never return. Realizing that someone had to be there for his son, Neil retreated from the horrific dream world that he had been veiled in and tried his best to raise his son despite his wife's tendencies. It was draining though, and he was afraid that Gary would never grow up right. When Gary was four months old, Annemarie announced that she was pregnant again and that it wasn't Neil's and that she didn't care. Dean was born perfectly normal despite her drug habits and drinking binges, and Neil knew that he had to act now or forever lose his life to his train wreck wife.
He did what he had to do. He got a divorce, he took the child that hadn't been exposed to Annemarie long enough to see destruction and he got out of there. Gary didn't have many memories about Dean or his dad, but he could remember believing that one day that mythical father figure would come back and he would be whole, or at least closer.
He wasn't even your fucking kid, Gary thought, watching as a group of freshmen decorated the front staircases for the holidays. He hated his father for leaving him, his mother for losing her first child and forgetting about the second two, and himself for not being smart enough to figure out how to forget all the things that had happened to him.
Gary hated Christmas, and he especially hated the way that Johnny Vincent had taken to walking around campus with his arm around Ella's shoulders.
Ella woke with a hangover, brain buzzing, throat dry, and worst of all, without Johnny. She knew deep down that he should never have stayed over, but she missed him. The spot where he slept was cold. Sighing, Ella whipped herself out of bed and right into Lola.
"What's with you?" Lola asked, looking amiss herself.
"Hungover." Ella mumbled, shaking her head.
"Oh. How was that party or whatever you went to yesterday?"
"Weird." She replied, thrusting a dirty glass underneath the faucet. She was desperate and nobody in their apartment seemed to know how to use a sponge. "The boys showed up, and ruined things. I left with them. How was your night?"
Lola pursed her lips with a smile. "Why do you always ask it like that?"
"Well, I just want to know who you slept with, considering all the usual offenders were all counted for."
"What, I'm not allowed to spend the night at my sister's place? You are all so suspicious." Her friend's face didn't seem to be convinced by her lie either.
"Just asking, jeez." Ella responded, picking up last night's jewelry. "I wish you'd seen everybody. They were so damn gorgeous, Lo. I mean, you would've thought we went to school with celebrities going to the Oscars."
"I heard from Peanut that you were sorta pretty too." Lola grinned. "Judging by the dress in the closet, I guess I might agree."
Ella shrugged, and motioned to the bathroom. "I promised my parents that I would go home for dinner tonight, and I need to sober up. Can I grab a shower, or do you need to go in?"
"Nope, I'm just spending the day at the movies with my boyfriend. He wants to talk. What you think that means?"
"That he has terrible communication skills? Maybe he's taking you to catch a flick so he won't actually have to talk." She offered, "I don't know. What are you seeing?"
"No, I mean, what do you think he wants to talk about?"
"Lola, if you could have one guess, what would you think? Honestly?" Ella asked, picking up her shower caddy from the floor. "You and I both know Johnny is a jealous guy."
Lola shouted something she didn't catch, and when she didn't repeat it, Ella stepped into the shower. It was cold at first, and she spent the first few freezing minutes thinking about what had happened last night.
She'd lied to Derby, to all of them. She'd been to Bif's big bash once before, last Black Friday, when the pair had actually been dating, when she'd been so in love with Bif that anything else hardly ever mattered. She had tried to stay over, but the Taylors had kicked her out and she'd just barely caught the last bus to campus. She went in Gary's room the next day and told him everything. She told him about dancing with tons of people she didn't even know and how she'd had three shots in a row, so quickly that by the time she'd had the third she had forgotten about the first two. How when Bif tried to kiss her that she'd been so drunk that she missed his mouth and started to make out with his cheekbone. That must've been the last time that Ella'd heard Gary truly laugh, heard him deny the evil that was surely creeping upon him.
Oh, Jesus. As the water started to burn her skin, she couldn't keep it in. She couldn't stop from curling her body around her knees and just sobbing until she couldn't breathe anymore, just inhaling the smoldering steam and her own snot. Ella missed him, even though she pretended like she hated him, which a part of her did. She ached for him in all the wrong places. She missed being his friend. Lola was fine, she was what Ella needed, but damn it, she wanted Gary back. He had been her best friend for so long that the need for his presence was probably imbedded in her genetics.
Shaking now, Ella just barely managed to touch the shampoo bottle before dropping it into the shower stall. What if he had killed himself? What if he succeeded? Jesus Christ, what if they had buried him last August? Would things be better or worse? Would her skin scrape with every thought of him still? No matter what happened, Ella would always, always blame herself.
She sobbed even harder, not able to control the tears streaming down her cheeks.
They stood in his room, early morning sun shining through the window. Amy was still pissed at Gary, not that he blamed her. She was becoming more and more needy and Gary had no way to fulfill that, not in his state. Even if he were emotionally healthy, it still wouldn't happen.
Last night, she begged him, pleaded for nearly an hour, got down on her knees and took off her shirt and her pants and crawled into bed with him and still he wouldn't touch her, wouldn't obey the hands that were desperately undoing his pants and running through his hair. No, he wouldn't do that, not with her, no matter hard she tried to make him.
"You would've thought I was trying to rape you." She spat the next morning, shaking her blonde hair into a ponytail.
"Well, you basically were." Gary retorted, motioning towards the door. "Overt your eyes, I'm going to change into my robe and shower, and I don't need you lusting after me anymore than you already do."
"You are such a fucking tease."
"I am not a tease. I just generally do not want you." He answered throwing his clothes on the floor and replacing them with a navy terrycloth robe.
"If you want, you can think about Ella while I have sex with you." Amy offered, gently tugging at his robe's tie. "I really don't care."
He pushed her out of the way and went to the bathroom. It was still early and the dorms were full of teenagers sleeping off last night's bender, so he had his pick of the stalls. Gary didn't like to be long in there, because he swore that he could see the mildew growing up the walls with every drop of water that hit the tiles. But he needed to think, away from that harpy that would not leave him alone.
Amy was growing to be a problem, worse than he would've ever anticipated. They were supposed to be a team, destroying Ella in tandem, but all Amy ever thought about was her libido. They were plenty of other males on campus willing to have her, but all she ever wanted was Gary. It wasn't that he didn't think she was attractive… but he couldn't have sex with her, even if it might hurt Ella. Switching off the shower, Gary thought how he'd have to be rid of Amy soon; she was just getting in the way. If he was going to successfully glean power at Bullworth, he'd have to do it without her help. Yes, he'd dump her as soon as he got back; throw her out in the deep, deep cold of December, on her ass.
"Amy!" He called, as soon he stepped in the door. "Amy, I-"
She was rummaging in his desk, pulling out papers and throwing them on the floor. Barely looking back at him, she continued, fumbling blindly through the bottom drawer.
"That was pretty quick, Gary. I guess you didn't relieve any of your tension in the shower, huh?" Amy lewdly mimed the activity she assumed he'd skipped out on.
Gary seized her wrist, roughly pulling her away from the mess she'd made. "What the fuck do you think you're doing?"
"I'm looking for it."
"What?" Gary asked, and suddenly there were trumpets blaring in his ears, his lungs deprived of oxygen as Amy pulled a sheet of loose leaf that was folded so tiny, it was barely visible within the mess of papers on the floor.
"This, I've been looking for it since you hid it last time. Jesus, I've been trying for the past week to find it again."
Gary couldn't stop himself. "Give that back to me, Amy. Don't think I won't hurt you. Give it back to me and I'll leave you alone."
"Don't think I haven't read already. I practically know it by heart. Are you ready?" Amy's lips pursed just as Gary managed to snatch it from her outstretched hand.
He opened it, just so that it would be easier to tear into pieces so tiny that nobody could ever put it back together. Unfolding it, he wondered why he'd ever invited that stupid bitch into his carefully crafted life. But there was nothing. It was just a blank sheet of paper. A dud. A fake. And judging by the grin covering what was practically Amy's whole face, she knew exactly where it was.
"Give it back to me, Amy." Anger ripped his voice open, but she just shook her head.
She cleared her throat and began her soliloquy. "Dear Ella, or rather, just Ella, because you frantically crossed out the dear and just left the Ella, right? Ella, by the time you read this, I won't be alive anymore. It's not your fault, I just want you to know that. If you feel any guilt, El, just remember that you were the only sparkle in my life, the only thing keeping me from fragmenting. Ella, you're the only person that I have ever loved, and I loved you the only way I knew how, and now it's hurting me so bad that I don't know how to handle myself. Every time I see you the words want to spring from my throat, every time I speak to you I want to wrap my arms around you and just keep you. I'm frightened of you sometimes, and I think that's why I am so in love with you. There you go, I've said it. I love you, Ella. I've loved you since you taught me what love felt like. Don't miss me too hard, because it's not worth it. Just remember this: I love you, and no matter what happens to me, you'll be okay. Love, Gary."
Neither spoke for a moment. The EMTs had found Gary's notes when they came to his house last August, and they'd handed them to Pop Smith, who in turn had given them back to Gary once he'd gotten better. Gary hadn't the heart to throw any of them away. He liked the reminder of himself, even if the feelings were still tattooed upon him, in places that he liked to hide.
"If you had died, I'm sure she would've been embarrassed by that. I mean, I know it was only last summer, but you write like an eighth grader."
He didn't stop himself as he grabbed her, as he held her chin in his hand, gripping her face within his fingertips. He couldn't feel the flutter of her heart beneath his grab, couldn't feel her tears drip between his fingers. Gary held her so tight she was afraid he'd break her neck.
"Please, you're hurting me. Gary, please. I won't... I won't ever say it again. I won't say it, please."
"I hate her, Amy. I hate her. You're making me want to kill her, Amy. So that I can forget that I ever felt that way."
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. I'm sorry. Please don't hurt me, Jesus Christ, just let me go, I didn't think you'd react at all, you're such a robot, Gary, I didn't think..."
Amy's whine dulled after a few seconds and he spoke again. "I don't care about you. I don't care what you meant to do or what you thought you'd do. I don't care that you think you have something incriminating, because when I'm done with you, nobody will ever believe another word you ever say, not your friends, not the teachers, not even your family."
"I'll give it back to you, I swear, Gary, I swear." Her tears choked her, more than Gary did, his hands cutting off her air so that she turned more and more crimson with every breath.
"I don't care. It's not important to me anymore. I have come to terms with the boy who wrote the note, I have cut him off. I don't even remember how he acted, how he was afraid of everything that was bigger than him. I'm not that stupid little kid anymore, I don't love her, and I don't care about her, at all. I don't even remember what she looks like. I don't know her, and she sure as hell doesn't know me. So you can go back to whatever hole you crawled out of, Amy, because if I don't need her then I definitely don't even want you." Gary let go of her, let her heels touch the floor once again, let her look at him and his wide eyes with that scar and his chest puffed even though she couldn't even hear him breathe.
"Gary, I'm so sorry. I am so sorry." She whispered, slipping into her ballet flats and edging towards the door. "If I had known you were so ridiculously fucked in the head, I would have never even..." She trailed, shutting the door so hard behind her that his furniture shook.
"Good," He whispered, knowing she couldn't hear him. "Because I wouldn't have sex with a dirty slut like you anyway."