FP is beaten up at home when he tells his dad that he wants to go to college.

xxx

Chapter Five

FP POV

"Maybe. But I'm not gonna hit my kid; not like my old man hits me."

I was pretty sure that I could do anything after that night with Alice. I didn't care when I threw my arm around her in the halls or held onto her hand in class. She seemed to like it too. Even though we haven't been on a real date, we have this thing between us. It's still just fooling around but it's consistent, something we can both count on. And I really, really like that. It gives me enough confidence to say the thing to my dad that I have always wanted to say.

I walk in with my varsity jacket on and my hands in fists. He is sitting in front to the television with a beer in his hand, four empty ones around his legs and on his side table. He is dirty and smells of vomit. I try to ignore that terrible smell as I walk in front of him, blocking his way to the tv. He looks angry right away, which is a bad sign.

"You ready to join my damn gang and shut up about school, boy?" he asks, throwing back another chug of his beer. He grins at me with his yellowing teeth. I swallow hard, trying to muster up the courage to tell him what I need to without choking.

"No," I tell him.

"What the hell is this about? I am trying to watch my programs before my shift!" he shouts.

"You mean your job managing a bar that no one but your gang members go to?" I ask him.

He looks angry then, really angry. I clench my hands into fists. I won't show him how scared I am. I won't show him how badly I am shaking on the inside. I don't want him to hurt me. I don't want to have to live with him when he is this angry. But maybe if he hears it and I stand up for myself, he will just respect that.

"I was a soldier, boy!" he shouts.

"Was!" I shout back. I shake my head, putting my hands down by my sides to calm down. I shouldn't be the one freaking out right now. I have to get this out. He has to know. "I don't want to argue with you, Pop. I just wanted to tell you that I am not going to join your gang."

"What?" he says, shaking his head. He leans back in his chair, not at all surprised. He looks more like he is surprised that I think it is going to happen. He has a cocky expression on his face that pisses me off. I take another step forward, totally blocking his way from the tv. Finally, I have his undivided attention.

"I am not going to be a Serpent. I want to be the first Jones to go to college. I want to earn a degree and get a real job," I say. I have to say it very fast because it feels hot in my throat when I get the words out.

"Are you kidding?" he asks me with a short laugh. He stands up out of his chair, setting his beer down on the table beside him. I feel panic rise in my chest as horror falls over my entire body. I feel like I am on fire, like I am about to explode with it and then be completely destroyed.

"You don't mean that," he says.

"Yes I do," I promise him, trying to stand tall. He is taller than me though and when he walks over, taking just two steps, he is practically towering over me. He grins with anger in his veins. His hands go into fists.

"I want to go to college and I don't want to be here, sitting in the trailer park with a dead beat job and a kid that I hate for the rest of my life!" I shout. "I want to live a real life out there in the world. And I don't want to be a Serpent."

I don't have time to think. He punches me across the face.

It makes me dizzy. It hits the side of my head and across my nose. It hurts like a rock hit me. It hurts so bad that I am immediately tired and weak. I can't feel my hands. It hurts so bad that I can't think about anything but the throbbing ache.

I try to straighten up, to stand up and face him but I feel his grip on my wrist. It is tight. I try to pull away from him, kick at his ankles but he kicks me in the ribs once. It isn't very hard but it is hard enough for me to stay down on the ground. He grabs my wrist and looks me dead in the eyes. There is so much pain all over that I can't think of how to escape, how to get away. I can only feel hurt.

"Come on," I say to him. "This can't really be about college."

"Oh it is," he says. "You need to learn, boy! You are mine! You are my legacy! I won't have you ruin what I created here! You think you can afford to go to college? You think you're smart enough for that? No! You know you ain't! You better wise up, kid. You'll realize that you have no other choice. You'll be thankful for the Serpents one day! You'll see!"

He smashes my arm down onto the table in front of him, snapping my forearm in half.

When I wake up, I am in excruciating pain and I'm cold. I'm outside of my trailer with my arm wrapped across my body. I still have on my clothes, which is a good sign but my trailer is probably locked because dad put me out here so that I can't get back in. I push myself to sit up and try to stand but I get so dizzy, I fall right back over.

I feel stupid and in so much pain I want to cry.

It hurts so bad. Why did he have to do that? I look down at my arm. It's purple all over and huge, swollen to the size of a baseball around the broken part. Even around the edges toward my wrist and hand are purple too, not as swollen. It is definitely broken. I can't move my fingers very much. When I try, I scream out in pain and then put my hand over my mouth. The last thing I need is someone realizing that I am out here.

I'll just crawl under the trailer and sleep there tonight like I've done before.

"Forsythe?" I hear.

Alice.

Oh no.

She turns the corner and when her eyes land on me, horror spreads across her face. Her hands are shaking. Her eyes look fearful and sad. She rushes to my side, sitting on her knees, dirt covering the tears of her jeans. She leans down to look at my hand. Her hands go out, as if she is about to touch it, but then leans back and doesn't, looking down with fear.

"Alice?" I ask. "You don't have to help me. I'll be fine."

"What happened?" she asks.

"I fell off my bike," I tell her.

"I didn't know you rode a motorcycle," she says with a small smile. I want to smile back. It gives me some comfort knowing that she is trying to make me smile.

"Apparently I don't," I say, trying to make it sound convincing. No one knows that my dad hits me. No one knows that he beats me and that sometimes I have to sleep under the trailer to get away from him. But especially not Alice. "At least, not very well."

She smiles and then looks down at my arm with a sad expression. She reaches down to lift it off of my leg where it rests. She holds it in her arm and looks down at the purple, brushing her fingers over the center of the swollen part.

I call out, yanking it away, which only causes it more pain than before. It shoots up my arm and down my chest. I hunch over, groaning and trying to catch my breath.

"FP," she mumbles, putting her hand to my face. Her gentle fingers caress the side of my face. She isn't looking into my eyes. She is looking at me but I can't place it. I blink the blur from my eyes and realize quickly that she is looking at my tears.

She brushes one away from my face, under my eye and then another that I feel fall down my cheek. It's embarrassing, horrifying. I can feel my cheeks flush red and my body start to shake but then I look at her face: her soft expression, her gentle look.

"It's gonna be okay," she says. "I'm going to help you."

I swallow hard before I even think about speaking.

"I know," I say.

She helps me stand, never letting her hands away from me and stares into my eyes for a long second. Alice leans up on her tiptoes. I look down at the glamor she has put on herself, her dark lipstick, her dark mesh half shirt, her jeans, her dark crosses and it almost doesn't hurt for a second.

Alice brushes her hand underneath of my eyes, across my cheeks on either side with a light expression that is so full of trust, I want to wrap her in my arms and never let her go.

Instead, I catch my breath and mutter, "Thank you."

Alice nods. "Let's get you to the hospital."

Ohhh…his father is a jerk but hey, Falice is pretty awesome!