Tatiana puts me to work as soon as I ask to help. I think she can tell that I need this. That keeping my hands busy keeps my mind away from everything else. I think it's why I love the garage.
All day long, a steady stream of people arrive. It feels like barely five minutes between each ring of the doorbell. Alex and Anastasia take turns answering the door and welcoming in whichever relative it is.
Most of them are hanging out in the living room but a few have drifted into the dining room and are talking with Anastasia. I can see her from where I'm standing by the stove and she looks bored out of her mind.
Two of her uncles are involved in some political debate, both of them arguing their points over one another. Occasionally they ask for her opinion but they quickly ignore whatever she says or they turn the debate on her, explaining why she's wrong. And even though I don't want anyone to take notice of me, I call her name to drag her away from them.
Anastasia brightens up as she walks over to me, practically collapsing against the counter I'm standing in front of. "Jesus," she mumbles, tipping her head back and pinching the bridge of her nose between her index finger and thumb. "They were boring the fuck out of me."
"I could tell," I say, grinning when she opens one eye to look at me. "You're welcome for saving you by the way."
She rolls her eyes and pushes away from the counter. "Whatever. You and mom have this covered but I don't want to go back over there. So give me something to make me look useful."
Tatiana comes back over to the stove from where she was with one of her cousins and without even really looking at me, she pats my arm – like she's making sure I'm still there. She goes back to stirring some mixture in a pot on the stove and I keep chopping up vegetables that are supposed to go into a casserole.
Anastasia whines softly next to me and I take pity on her, glancing up at her before I drop my gaze back down to the pile of green onions I'm working my way through. "Alright, can you get me some kind of container to put these in so I have room to cut the rest?"
She quickly leaves my side in search of a container and I keep cutting the vegetables, letting it all pile up on the chopping board. Tatiana glances my way after a few seconds of silence and without words, she asks if I'm okay. If I'm still good to do this. And the answer's yes. As long as I'm in here with her, cooking and helping out, I'm not having to come up with awkward conversations and trying to blend in. With Tatiana, I can just be me – bruises and all.
"Here. Now make me look useful," Anastasia says, setting the container on the counter next to the chopping board. I roll my eyes but I look at her and she sighs, leaning back against the counter. "You try being my age surrounded by all these old people with stupid opinions."
I want to argue that she should try being me, surrounded by people I don't even know with bruises on my face and burns on my back but I don't. I can tell that she's trying to get me out of my head. So I drag in a careful breath, letting her words work to ease my mind away from everything else.
"A lot of people have stupid opinions, regardless of how old they are," I respond softly, pushing the remainder of the chopped vegetables off the cutting board and into the container she got me. "Have you forgotten what high school's like?"
She groans loudly, shaking her head when I glance at her. "It's so much worse when they're old, though. It's like… it doesn't matter how many facts you present, it's always just "the way it's always been." Complete bullshit if you ask me," she mutters under her breath but Tatiana still calls her name softly.
Tatiana looks at me and gives me a smile, holding something out to me. She drops a square of fudge into my open palm. "Thanks for your help, miel," she says, patting me on the shoulder before she turns back to what she's making on the stove.
"Hey, I want a square too," Anastasia says, holding out her hand expectantly.
Tatiana doesn't even look up from her stirring before she shakes her head. "You know the tradition, Ana. Only those helping out in the kitchen get one before dessert tonight."
Anastasia whines. "Oh come on. I am helping. I've been entertaining the old guys so you could keep cooking. And I just got Dash out this container, look, see!" she insists, swiping the half-full container of cut vegetables off the counter and brandishing it in front of her mom.
She gives up when her mom doesn't even look her way. She plops the container back down on the counter next to me and lets out a sigh. When I glance her way, she sticks out her tongue. So I break the piece of fudge in two.
I offer one half to Anastasia and she perks up instantly, taking it from me despite her mom calling her name. "What? He offered it," Anastasia says around the fudge in her mouth. "It's not like I took the sacred dessert fudge before it was time – you technically gave me this piece."
Tatiana rolls her eyes but a smile is pulling at her expression and it makes me smile too. I eat my half of the fudge square and I listen as Tatiana instructs Anastasia on what needs to be done next. I laugh when Anastasia starts complaining about how Alex should be in here too and Tatiana blows her off. The way they interact is different than how it was with me and mom. I don't know if we were never close enough to joke the way that Tatiana and Anastasia are but seeing them interact stirs something in me akin to jealousy.
Anastasia jokes that Tatiana likes me more than her and Alex because they've always had to do a lot more than chop vegetables to be granted a piece of fudge. Tatiana rolls her eyes and calls Anastasia dramatic.
The two of them laugh together and joke about past Christmases' and I soak it all in because I don't know what else to do. I feel like a part of the conversation even though I'm not contributing much. I feel like I belong here in this small kitchen, talking with them and pretending like I understand everything they're saying. I feel like I'm finally home.
I stay in the kitchen for as long as I can. But eventually Alex comes looking for me and he pulls me away from the quiet serenity I've encased myself in over the past few hours. He directs me past everyone gathered in the hallway outside the dining room. He quietly ushers me further down the hall and out the back door, handing me my jacket before he shuts the door behind us.
"Shit, it got colder out here," he mutters, a shiver running through him as he talks. He zips his own jacket closed as I shrug mine on.
Even though I try to tell myself not to worry about this, I'm nervous about whatever Alex has pulled me outside for. He stands next to me in silence, staring up at the sky. The sun's disappeared now but there's still a bit of lingering light in the sky. It shows up between the trees and encompasses the whole backyard into this eerie, stillsort of quiet. The kind that tears at me and begs to be let in.
"I'm guessing… you didn't call me out here to appreciate the cold," I mumble and Alex looks at me.
He watches me in silence for a few seconds before he exhales out, nodding. "Yeah," he says softly, dropping his stare. He studies our feet in silence for what feels like forever before he drags in a breath. "I just got off the phone with Chuck."
Fear and anxiety flood through my veins like they're stitched to my bones once more. And it's hard to breathe around the weight settling on my chest but I make myself. I drag in a deep breath and I expel it out, watching it hang in the air before I speak.
"Wh-What'd he say?"
Alex pulls his stare from the ground to look up at me, letting out a soft breath in the silence. He shakes his head, his eyebrows drawn down and fear splits through me. I don't know what that means. Is he okay? Is he… not? Why am I still here with the Moreno's when I should be at the hospital, waiting on news about my dad?
"The doctors said that… Howard's expected to make a complete recovery," Alex says, delivering the news so swiftly, I almost miss it.
Relief floods through me, and I let out a breath slowly, turning my gaze to the sky in silence. I don't know why the fear is still at the back of my throat or why sadness has begun to claw at my bones but they're both here. I've been hoping that dad would be okay since the moment Chuck told me he'd been shot. I don't know why my heart's seizing up now. This is good news.
Tears gather in my eyes and I sniffle quietly, trying to keep them at bay. But it's quiet outside and Alex hears me instantly. He looks toward me but I won't meet his gaze. I keep my stare on the sky above and pretend that I'm not fucking tearing up again.
Dad's gonna be okay. He's gonna be okay. I should be happy about this, I should be fucking ecstatic that my father is gonna make it through. But instead, I'm terrified and I don't have a right to feel that way. He's my dad. That's all that matters. That's all that should matter.
"God," I breathe out, running my hand down my face to stop myself from fucking bawling. He's gonna be okay. That's all I should focus on right now. I shouldn't think about what this means for me or about what I want from this situation. Dad's gonna make it.
Alex steps closer to me and his silence begs so many questions. I don't know how to answer any of them but I meet his stare and I let out a breath, shrugging one shoulder as a response. I don't know what I'm supposed to say. I don't know how to communicate that a small, horrible part of myself was waiting for the bad news. To hear that dad didn't make it and all of the shit that I've been through would have been buried with him. But dad's gonna live and nobody will ever know how much of a horrible son I can be.
"That's… that's good," I mumble softly, more to myself than to Alex. But he takes it as a need to reassure me and he puts his hand on my shoulder. I don't want to give in to that touch and I don't want to let it heal me. I want this to hurt. I want this to burn. I want to remember this feeling of shame crawling over me at the thought of what I almost wanted instead.
Alex gives my shoulder a little shake and then seems to recognize I'm not steady anymore because he gently pulls me into his arms. At first, I don't hug him back. I just let him hold me. But as the silence settles over the two of us, I let my emotions get the best of me. Like I always do.
I slide my arms around his back and I hold on to him tightly, too afraid to speak a single word. I don't want him to know what I was thinking or what that horrible part of myself wanted in this moment. It's not right for me to think that about my own father. And I don't want Alex to see me that part of me.
"Everything will be okay," Alex promises me and I don't know how to tell him that he's wrong. That nothing will be okay because dad is alive and not dead. I don't know how to make myself sound like less of a horrible son than I am. It's in my bones and it's in my veins. And I don't think I ever had a chance of denying it.
When Alex and I go back inside the house, we help get everything ready for dinner. Christmas Eve dinner is apparently a big deal in the Moreno house. They set the table with special dishes and glasses and my hands are sweaty as I set them in place, terrified I might drop one.
Alex doesn't leave me alone for more than a few minutes at a time and I think he can sense how shaken I am. I don't know how to be anything other than messed up after thinking the way that I was about my dad. And I hate that the people around me can tell.
"Can you carry these to the table, miel?" Tatiana calls softly and I look up from my place in the dining room. I've just finished setting forks at every place around the table and I don't know if I can unstick my feet from the floor.
Alex glances up from where he's at in the dining room and starts for the kitchen. "I'll get it, mom. Just these potatoes? Do you want the gravy in another dish or is that one okay to set on the table?"
Tatiana frowns as she watches me and I drop my gaze from her, tasting that fudge in the back of my throat. I don't deserve it. I don't deserve any of this. Here's this kind family, taking me in because I have nothing and I'm here almost hyper-ventilating. Because I can't decide if I want my own father to live or die.
I hear Alex say something softly to his mom and I can't take the quiet words they're exchanging about me. I don't want to know what they've said and at the same time, I want to know so fucking badly. But I don't have the right to ask. And even if I did, I would never find the bravery to.
Alex says something softly to Tatiana so I slide my phone from my pocket, afraid of how my bones might shake if I don't.
To: Danny
How do you deal with people talking about you?
It's not what I really want to ask him but I can't have him call just to distract me. He told me I could if I needed him to but what I really need is the strength to just get through this on my own. I don't know if Danny can infuse that strength into me but talking to him has to be better than trying to figure this out in my own head.
From: Danny
I usually try to ignore them. If they're talking about me, they must have pathetic lives
To: Danny
It's Alex and Tatiana
I think they're trying to decide if I'm okay
From: Danny
Are you?
To: Danny
No
I don't want to drag him into this. I don't want to make him deal with my shit again. It's Christmas Eve. He should be spending time with his family and celebrating holiday traditions. Not putting up with me and more of my bullshit.
From: Danny
They care about you a lot, Dash. If you're not okay, you should tell them. They've proven again and again that they're here for you. Let them be there for you when you need them
Like now
It's not that easy. I can't let people help me or be there for me when I need them because what if they're not there next time? What if I always let people help me and then I can never stand on my own again? What if they don't want to help me but they're all too kind to push me away? What am I supposed to do?
"Dash?"
I jump in place when Alex calls my name and I let out a shaky breath, running my hand through my hair. He watches me in silence for a few seconds until I manage to look up at him. There's still a few moments of hesitation in the both of us but Alex gets over his faster than I do mine.
Alex sets a few bowls down on the table and looks up at me again. "You're sitting beside me for dinner. Everything's almost finished, mom's taking the roast out now. So go wash up and come back in here. I'll tell you where to sit when you're back, okay?"
I nod, trying to keep the fear at bay as I turn toward what I can see of the living room from the dining room. I can hear a ton of people in there, talking and laughing and it unnerves me. It scares me just a little and I wish that I could find Anastasia in the crowd. But I haven't seen her since I went outside with Alex.
Even though I want to wait until I see Anastasia or just ask Alex to walk with me, I don't. I force myself to walk through the living room with my head down and mumble a quiet "excuse me" every time I have to squeeze past a group of people.
A few people turn away from the conversations they're having to glance my way and I don't look up. I don't know if they're trying to figure out who I am or if Alex has already said something but I don't stick around to find out which.
It takes me a few minutes longer until I find the bathroom but the light's on inside and the door's shut so I knock quietly before ducking a little further down the hall to wait it out. I don't want to go back and talk to anyone and one of my legs has already started that nervous tremor. Fuck, I don't want to be nervous.
I used to be better at this. Being around strangers didn't fuck with me like this when I was younger. Then again… I rarely spent time around other people when my face looked like this. Maybe it's not the fact that they're all strangers and I'm the only person here who's not related. Maybe I'm anxious cause I look like a truck ran over my face.
The bathroom door opens and Kendra steps out, shutting off the light and pushing the door closed behind her. She lets out a quiet breath and leans her back against the door before she glances down the hall, looking right at me.
Kendra practically jumps in place, her hand fluttering up to rest over her heart. "Oh, I didn't see you there."
I push away from the wall and run my hand through my hair, letting out a nervous breath. "Sorry… didn't mean to scare you," I mumble, walking a few steps closer to her. I hesitate before I look up but I manage to meet her gaze and I count that as a win. "You uh… hiding out too?"
She smiles and seems to instantly relax. "Just a little. I can't imagine what it's like for you… at least I knew all these people at one point in my life," she says softly, giving me a sympathetic look that I'm so fucking grateful for.
"Yeah, it… doesn't help that I…" I lose my nerve to actually say it and I just end up gesturing at the bruises to which Kendra nods, a sad expression on her face.
She puts a hand on my arm. "I can't imagine what you're feeling," she says softly, patting me on the shoulder before she steps back from me. "If you want, I'll sit with you at the table and whisper to you who everyone is."
There's a smile in her eyes when I nod and she laughs quietly. "I don't blame you. The Moreno's can be intimidating at times."
Understatement of the year. I give Kendra a smile and mumble that I'm gonna wash my hands and she steps out of the way. I send her a silent thank you as she waits for me in the hall and then we're both walking through the living room together.
Someone compliments Kendra on the dress she's wearing and she takes the remark with a smile and a graceful, "thank you." She doesn't stop to talk to anyone, no matter what they say, and soon enough, we're back in the dining room and I'm breathing just a little easier.
Kendra gives me a smile and bumps her hip against mine and I relax a little. I can do this. I can sit at this table with the Moreno family and I can pretend that everything's fine. That I'm not bruised because of my own father's hands.
"There are you, I was wondering who stole you away," Alex says, crossing the dining room over to Kendra. He kisses her softly and I remember what it felt like to press my lips to Danny's. How it felt when my tongue slid between his teeth and when he was straddling me and how-
I quickly become interested in the dishes on the table, lining the utensils up and trying to ignore the furious blush on my face. I don't think that I can remember the way it felt to kiss Danny without blushing.
"Yeah, you're lucky this one came to find me," Kendra says, nodding toward me and I look up at that. Her gaze lingers on Alex but her smile slips for just a few seconds. "Aunt Sofiawas showing me more photos of her sons."
Alex rolls his eyes, pressing another kiss to her cheek. "I think she's forgotten how to have a life outside of them. Who cares that they're now big-shots in the world? They're still some of the shittiest people I knew growing up."
Kendra nods sympathetically but smiles when he does. They part from each other easily and I stay rooted in place, pretending to be straightening plates or glasses or anything on the table just to avoid looking up.
"Alex, where are you sitting?" Kendra calls after him as he disappears into the kitchen.
He calls back something in Spanish that I don't understand. Kendra must know what it means because she nods toward me and I follow her to the other side of the table. We're still a few chairs down from the very end but we're in a position that's easy to get out of. There's no wall behind me like the end chair has and it's pretty much a straight shot from my chair out of the dining room.
"Seems like a perfect place to me," Kendra says, pulling out a chair for herself and glancing up at me.
It takes me a second to remember what I'm supposed to be doing. But I pull out my own chair and sit next to Kendra. I try to will my leg to stop shaking but it's a lost cause at this point. So I just scoot my chair underneath the table a little farther to hide the tremor and hope that she can ignore it if she's somehow seen.
"Tonight's dinner is nothing compared to what tomorrow's will be," she says, smiling at me when I look up. "Tatiana loves to cook and this is one of the only times she gets to really go all out so… she takes advantage of it. Don't be surprised if you've put on ten pounds by the time you leave here."
She winks and it makes me laugh. I can't imagine why she would ever not spend Christmas here. The three Moreno's I know are the kindest people I've ever met and even if their relatives aren't as kind, it's still nice to be around the three of them. Whatever drove Kendra away must have been horrible… because at this point, I think it would take a hurricane to push me out.
Tatiana calls everyone in from the living room, announcing that dinner's on the table. She brings over a platter of pot roast and sets it down in the center of the table. She starts to serve up a little onto everyone's plates and when I offer to help, she swiftly turns me down.
"You're our guest, dear. Your only job is to sit back and relax during the next few days, alright?" she says, beaming at me when I manage a nod. She turns and calls Alex and Anastasia's name, along with a lot of Spanish I don't understand.
Kendra laughs softly and I make a mental note to ask her what it means later.
Alex appears in the dining room, followed seconds later by Anastasia who gives her mom a "what the hell" look. Tatiana responds with a look of her own and Anastasia backs down, asking what needs to be done.
Tatiana instructs her to start putting food on everyone's plate and as she starts working, people start trickling into the dining room. One by one, every chair at the table is filled. A few young children are still running around the house but with a few sharp calls from each of their parents, they come thundering into the dining room.
Alex slips into the chair next to me and I try to let his presence expel out the last of my nerves. I keep my gaze on my lap as Tatiana and some of the others at the table work together to corral the kids into settling down and sitting at the kids table set up at the edge of the dining room.
I'm sitting in between Kendra and Alex and I try to let that be enough. I try to let it work the nerves and the tension out of my gut but I don't think it's working. And I don't think I'll be able to keep down even a bite of the meal tonight.
Tatiana elects someone to say grace and I pretend that there's something soothing about it. Like the words some random guy is saying eases the knot in my chest and makes it easier to breathe again. But every breath I drag in feels like it might be my last and I work to keep the panic down.
When the prayer ends and everyone starts to talk at once and dig in, I can't move a muscle. I just keep staring down at my lap and it takes Alex's hand on my knee to realize that I'm shaking. It's no longer just a tremor in one of my legs. It's in both now. And my gut is clenched so tightly, I'm afraid I'm gonna puke. I don't want that to be the way that everyone here remembers me so I do my best to force it down.
I lift my head and keep my stare down but I manage to pick up the fork beside the plate in front of me. I stab at the pot roast and even though I put bite after bite into my mouth, I'm not really tasting it. I'm just trying to make it through this meal alive. And even now, the tension has spiraled so high in my chest, I feel like I might drop dead at any moment.
Alex puts his hand on my knee twice more while I eat but I don't look at him. Everything in me is coiled so tightly, I don't know if I'll ever sit still again. I think even Tatiana picks up on my discomfort as the meal goes on because she casts a look my way every now and then.
"So, Kendra. I have to admit, it's good to see your face again after all this time," some guy across the table says. He's a skinny man with wire-rimmed glasses and a large glass of wine in his hand. He swirls the liquid inside once before he takes a sip and points the glass at Kendra. "What took you so long to come back?"
Alex clears his throat and I glance his way as he sets his silverware down on either side of his plate. Conversations go on around us but the one that this guy is trying to start up pretty much falls flat right there. Kendra drops her gaze to her plate and the guy flits his gaze between her and Alex before he tries again.
"Poor Alex here just kept waiting on you to come back from that big city you ran off to. After everything that happened, we all expected you to hang around for at least a little while longer," he continues, swirling his glass again and raising an eyebrow at Alex's obvious anger.
Tatiana glances at Alex and exhales softly, turning to look at the guy. "Carlos,that's not an easy topic to discuss. They're working it out. And I think it's best if the rest of us stay out of it," she says, a tone of finality to her voice – letting us all know that the conversation is over.
Carlos shrugs, his gaze shifting from Tatiana over to Alex again. "You don't want to talk about it? I thought we were family here."
Alex lets out a breath and when he closes his eyes, I can tell how hard he's trying to keep calm. And as much as the anxiety spiking through me is threatening to choke me, I don't want to watch Alex lose it. He deserves better than having to deal with pushy relatives and topics of conversation he'd rather shy away from. So I take it upon myself to distract this guy.
I clear my throat softly and Carlos' stare turns to me. I can feel the trembling my legs again and I pray to something that I don't stutter when I speak. If I'm going to turn the attention away from Alex, I'd rather it not linger on me too long.
"Alex doesn't want to talk about it in front of me," I lie, shrugging when this guy raises an eyebrow at me in question. I don't know if Alex's hesitation has anything to do with me but it shifts the conversation in a different direction. Directs the attention away from Alex. It puts it front and center on me instead and it's hard to breathe. "He… doesn't like talking about it around me."
I'm lying through my teeth but it's working. I can see his uncle's curiosity shift from Alex over to me. I hope it doesn't stay this way for long. I don't know if I can deal with being under his scrutiny.
"I've been meaning to ask just who are you. I don't remember ever seeing you before," Carlos says, swirling his glass again and I almost lose my nerve. Because I've drawn more than just his attention now. A few of the people sitting either side of Carlos have broken off from the conversations they were involved in. They're looking at me now.
All around us, conversations are still going on but to me, it feels like this is the only one happening. Like nothing else exists besides me and everyone else listening in. And as much as that tries to spike my anxiety, I do my best to swallow it down and I keep my head up as I talk.
"I'm a friend of Alex's. He invited me to spend Christmas here and since I've had Tatiana's cooking before, I couldn't really resist," I say, trying to make a joke about it. I think I even manage a smile. But it barely cracks the serious expression on Carlos' face.
He leans forward just a little in his chair but his stare is on Alex this time. "So who is this kid?" he asks, like I didn't speak at all.
Alex looks ready to lose all patience on this guy but he lets out a controlled breath, almost like he's trying to keep himself in check before he speaks. "I believe he told you already, Uncle. He's a friend of mine. His name's Dash."
"Dash," Carlos says softly, tapping his chin like he recognizes my name. Something akin to fear spikes in my gut and I try to breathe past it. But recognition clicks in Carlos' eyes and he snaps his fingers before pointing in my direction. "Baxter, right?"
I numbly nod and Carlos takes another swallow from his glass before he continues. "I knew I recognized you. I just saw on the news when I was in the airport. About the chief of police being shot? Something Baxter. The reporter said the guy had an only son. Couldn't reach him to get a comment though."
My heart sinks into my gut and for a few seconds, I can't hear anything around me anymore. Someone probably came to my house to get some kind of quote and I wasn't there to give it. I wonder what that makes people in this town think of me. Do they just assume I've been too busy dealing with all the hospital stuff to have time to make a comment? Or does everyone think that I'm too heartless to take the time out of the holidays to comment about how my own father's doing?
Alex's hand on my knee again makes me jump but I manage to push down the noise that built up in the back of my throat at the contact. I wasn't expecting it and Alex recognizes that. But he pats my knee gently and I try to relax.
I try to stop myself but the lump is in the back of my throat and I have to drop all pretenses of conversation. Even when Carlos' asks a question that I know is directed at me, I don't respond. Alex takes over for me and I silently thank him for his ability to handle shit like this better than I ever could.
Between Alex and Tatiana, they get the conversation away from me and soon enough, Carlos is distracted by something else. I'm barely listening to anything happening at the table anymore and I zone out for a while to avoid having to respond. But when the conversations around me reach a point where everyone at the table is laughing and joking around, I slip from my chair and leave the room.
I find my shoes and jacket by the back door and I put both on before I step outside, carding my hands through my hair. I need to think and I can't do it inside that house with all those people. It's too much for the loneliness ringing in my bones and it scratches at the storm inside my head. I can't be around the feeling of family for too long or I'll go insane.
Behind me, the back door opens and I don't even have to look to know who's followed me out. I look over my shoulder anyway, maybe just as some sort of pretense, and I'm not surprised to see Alex standing there. He's pulling on a jacket and he gives me the barest hint of a smile that I can't return.
"You don't want to skip dessert, do you?" Alex asks. "Mom made her famous fudge – it's really good. It's a tradition to have a few squares on Christmas Eve," he continues, his tone light and full of happiness. I can't force that feeling out of me any longer and I don't want to have to.
I shrug and Alex exhales softly behind me, walking the few feet between us until he can put a hand on my shoulder. He waits a few seconds in silence before he tries to turn me around to face him. But I resist and he gives up.
He drops his hand from my shoulder with a gentle sigh. "I'm sorry. I wish I could make this easier on you but I can't. My uncle can be pretty damn aggressive at times and I'm sorry." He hesitates for a second. "It's not like I can tell everyone in there not to ask who you are, though. They're just curious."
"That's not it," I respond quietly, not even sure that I meant to speak in the first place.
Alex is silent for a few seconds but when he takes a step closer to me, I recognize the unspoken question. He's asking me if I'm okay. Or what's wrong. Or fucking something to explain why I'm acting this way. And the truth is, I don't know why I'm suddenly all twisted up at this situation.
Maybe hearing Alex's uncle talk so openly about my own father and not realize the other half of the story – the part where I've been hurt in all of this too. Or maybe it has nothing to do with my dad and everything to do with me. Maybe I'm just too fucking selfish to let anyone around me enjoy this time with their own family cause I'm still upset about my own pathetic, broken one.
"What's going on?"
I don't know if I have an answer for him. I don't want to drag him down into this loneliness with me but I don't want him worrying about me all night either. I don't want to feel this way anymore. I just want to feel okay again and not be completely fucked up inside because of a stupid conversation.
I shrug but Alex won't take that as an answer. He puts his hand on my shoulder again and this time, he turns me around to face him. He gives me a look that's always worked to chip away at my walls before but I don't want to let it this time. I want to keep everyone out and be so fucking stubborn about it that everyone gives up on me and just leaves.
"I can't be in there right now," I spit broken words at Alex's feet, not entirely sure why I'm speaking in the first place. It doesn't matter. None of this matters. How I feel and what I'm thinking right now doesn't fucking matter. Alex brought me here because I have nowhere else to go and I should just be grateful for it. Not ready to throw it back in his face the second that this shit gets a little too hard for me to handle.
Alex lets out a soft breath, and waits a second before he nods. I guess he's waiting for me to continue.
I don't know what he's bracing himself for but I hate the way it looks. I hate that it picks at me and threatens to shatter all the walls I've spent so long building up. This isn't supposed to hurt. Not with Alex. But goddamn, it fucking burns.
"They're your family," I manage to say from between my teeth, my hands balling into fists at my sides almost unconsciously. I can't be here and pretend that it's not tearing at the parts of me that just want my own family back. "I can't be in there around all of that."
Alex nods as I talk and I hate that even more. He's trying to understand but there's nothing to understand. I'm pathetic. I'm the person that agreed to come here for the holidays and the second that it gets a little too difficult, I'm ready to throw the fucking towel in and go home. Even if my "home" is just a couch in Alex's apartment and my shit in his living room, I'd rather be there than surrounded by people who don't know me or who I really am.
"I'm the one who brought you here but a lot of people in there care about you, Dash. My mom has been asking me about you all night. She wants to make sure that you're okay but she's afraid of smothering you."
I bite on my tongue until I taste blood. I don't want to hear this.
He gives my shoulders a little shake as a smile quirks at his lips. "And Anastasia might talk big and act like she's tough shit but I know her. She's worried about you too and just wants to help but she doesn't know how. And Kendra… god, Kendra's really taken to you and I know that you barely know her but…" Alex pauses, letting out a breath slowly. "She told me the other night that she wants you to live with us for as long as you can. Because she cares. She cares a lot."
I don't want to be this way. I don't want to hear that lot of people care about me and not give a shit. I care about them too. I care so fucking much but I'm scared. I'm so goddamn scared that this is all gonna go away. Or I'll wake up tomorrow and it won't be enough. It already feels like it's not enough because I just want my family back. I want my dad to have never put his hands on me and I want my mom to just come home and be my mom again.
"They barely know me," I breathe and Alex's shoulders drop as a sigh tumbles from him.
He hangs his head in silence for a few seconds and I don't know what to say. I don't know how to make this better. But tears are in my eyes and I can't blink them away this time. I feel them run down my face and I know Alex sees them.
I sniffle loudly in the quiet that's settled between us. Alex reaches out to wipe away the tears running down my face and I know I can't let him. He drops his hand in the space between us when I distance myself. For a few seconds, I can only stare at the ground. I keep us locked in silence as I try to work up the nerve to talk or explain why I'm still so goddamn pathetic even after all this time.
"You should come back inside, Dash. You need to be around people that care about you right now," he says softly and I know the concern comes from a good place. I know he's worried because I can't stop the tears from running down my face and I'm seconds away from making a big fucking deal out of nothing. But I can't go back in there and pretend that everything's okay.
I shake my head and he tries to convince me. He keeps saying that Tatiana will be worried. That he can't leave me out here by myself. It's too cold. I need to be around other people right now. I can't bottle this up inside and pretend that everything's okay.
"I'm not pretending anything," I snap, finally looking up at him. The tears are free-flowing now and I can't stop a sob from bubbling up out of my throat and into the open air.
Alex stops everything there and I practically spit the words at him.
"I just lost my mom. She doesn't want anything to do with me anymore. She fucking hates me and what's worse is, I fucking get it, Alex."
Alex doesn't say anything for a few seconds and I take his silence as a sign to keep going. A reason to get all of this out in a single moment rather than bottling it up and letting it rattle me to tears again. I don't want to do this all over again.
"My dad's in the fucking hospital. How the fuck am I supposed to be around your family when he's in some room, breathing through a fucking machine while I'm over here? While I'm wishing that he wasn't breathing," I cough out, the words burning as they leave my throat. But I manage to say it and what's even fucking worse is, I still mean them. I still want that. And I fucking hate myself for it.
He meets my gaze in an instant and it's hard to see him past the tears. I don't want to cry over this stupid shit. I don't want him to hold me and try to make me feel better about this whole fucking thing but it's here now. It hurts and I want him to make it go away. I want him to make me better because I don't want to fucking feel this way anymore.
"Of course you want that," Alex's voice is barely above a whisper as he talks and when he reaches for me again, I let him put his hands on me this time. Because I need somebody holding on to me or I'll collapse right here and now. And I don't think I have the strength to pick myself up again.
I let Alex pull me into a hug and fit me against his chest even though every part of me still feels too raw to be touched. I'm on fire from everything I've admitted and I'm terrified of what he really thinks of me now.
Alex holds me in his arms and even though I try to let that heal me – even though I try to let that be enough, I'm still the one to pull away. I distance myself because I'm starting to feel numb and I don't want his concern to drag more tears from me. I want to pull myself together and be alone for a little while before I face everyone again.
I try to tell Alex that I'll be okay or that he doesn't have to stay with me but I can't find the words. They get lost somewhere between my heart and my mouth and I end up choking when I try to speak. And even though Alex puts his hand on my back and tries to make me feel better, it doesn't work.
The back door opens before either one of us find any words to speak and I'm almost grateful for it. We both turn to look as Anastasia steps out onto the back porch, shoving her hands into the pocket on the front of the hoodie she's wearing.
A shiver runs through her and she exhales out a breath that hangs in the air before she nods toward Alex. "Mom's looking for you inside. I think she wants to brag about you again," she says with an eye-roll and a smirk. "As if our relatives haven't heard enough about you already."
Alex smiles in return, a clear joke between the two of them. His expression darkens when he looks toward me and I hate it. I don't want to be the reason that his smile loses some of its light and I don't want to be the reason that he holds back from anything.
"Go, I'll be fine," I mumble, pushing a hand through my hair and sniffling loudly in the silence. I don't want to cry anymore and if Alex goes, I might have a chance to pull myself together.
He hesitates on leaving me but Anastasia says that she'll hang out here with me for a bit and that convinces him to go. And even though I don't want to be around anyone, I think having Anastasia with me will be easier than trying to talk about this shit with Alex.
"Come sit with me," Anastasia says almost as soon as Alex is gone. She nods toward the stairs on one end of the porch and crosses over to them without waiting for me.
I hesitate beside the door for what feels like forever before I finally cross over to where she is. She's pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter from her pocket when I collapse on the stairs beside her but she looks up at me when she props one between her lips.
"Want one?" she asks, a certain tone of joking to her words but I don't take it that way.
I've just spent the past couple of hours trying to bullshit that I'm okay. That I'm stable. My dad's in the hospital and my mom hates my fucking guts. I think if my life were some kind of fucked up movie, this would be the moment where I'd get a beer or a cigarette. And I'm pretty sure that'd be the least of my problems.
I shrug, scooting closer to her on the stair. "Sure."
Anastasia snaps her head up and for a few seconds, she just stares at me in silence before she swears under her breath. "I didn't expect you to take me up on the offer," she mumbles, fidgeting with the pack for a few seconds before she looks up at me again. One glance at my expression makes her decision and she slides another cigarette from the pack.
"Don't let Alex see you with this or he'll kill me. I'm way too young to die, you know that right?" she jokes, passing the cigarette to me.
I take it from her and roll it between my fingers. I used to smoke pot with the guys after practice. But it's been months since I gave it up. Dad caught me with a blunt. I lost the taste for them after that.
"Here, watch the way I light mine," Anastasia says, propping her cigarette between her lips better. She flicks thecigarette lighter twice before the flame catches and she brings the lighter up to her mouth, cupping her hand around the flame to shield it from the wind.
I watch as the flame ignites the tip of her cigarette, making the end burn a bright orange that's captivating. I've never smoked one of these before. But if all cigarette's look as beautiful as that does, I think I could get used to it.
Anastasia takes a drag from her cigarette and exhales out a mouthful of smoke before snapping the lighter shut and passing it over to me.
"You gotta flick the spark wheel. Just-"
"I've smoked before," I cut her off. I try to keep my tone light but I feel like it comes out harsh. I look up at her then, letting out a breath. "Mostly marijuana though."
Anastasia hesitates for a second before grinning. "Really? You never struck me as a pot-head."
"That's because I'm not."
I flick the lighter the way she did and the flame bursts to life in front of me. I prop the cigarette between my lips and lean forward to meet the flame. I watch the way it ignites and it's just as beautiful as Anastasia's was.
She watches as I drag in a mouthful of smoke and exhale it out. The smoke burns at the back of my throat but it's a good kind of burn. It reminds me of sitting in parking lots of abandoned buildings late at night, smoking weed with my teammates. Blake always managed to score us some – Dale too. I used to spend a couple weekends a month with them, getting high and devouring whatever snacks we'd brought with us.
"Damn, kid."
I shift my gaze from the sky to her as I lift the cigarette to my lips again. "What?"
She watches me inhale another drag before she shakes her head. "Didn't expect you to be good at this."
I shrug, leaning back on one hand as I exhale out another cloud of smoke. This isn't the same as smoking with the guys. Marijuana always gave me an instant high that I always longed for. But after dad introduced my ribcages to a baseball, I couldn't even stand the smell of it.
"Alex really will kill me, you know," she says.
I take in another hit, almost wishing it was weed instead. "Yeah, well. What he doesn't know won't hurt him."
It falls silent in between the two of us as we smoke. The burn builds in the back of my throat but I like it that way. This pain gives me something else to focus on.
Anastasia nudges my shoulder and when I turn to look at her, she swipes the cigarette from my hand. I reach to take it back but she stubs it out against one of the stairs.
"I wasn't finished with that," I say, but there's no strength behind the words.
Anastasia sighs, taking in a drag off her own cigarette. When she exhales out another cloud of smoke, I watch it drift higher in the night sky and for a few seconds, we're both silent again. I can hear the faint sound of laughter coming from the house just behind us and I think about breaking the silence. I consider asking Anastasia how I'm supposed to handle being here for the next few days when I've never been part of something like this. But I don't have the nerve and I doubt she has the patience for my fears again.
"Don't ever start smoking," Anastasia says, stubbing out her own cigarette when I look at her. She exhales out, mumbling 'fuck' under her breath before she drags her stare up to meet mine, shrugging as a way of explanation. "It doesn't fix you, if that's what you were hoping for. And despite what old movies will show you, it's not cool."
I didn't want to smoke because I think it's cool. I just wanted something to puncture this heaviness that's been settling on my shoulders since I came to the Moreno house. I thought that a cigarette might help but it didn't. I'm starting to think nothing will.
Anastasia glances my way at my silence and I shrug in response. She lets out a low breath, pushing her hair back with one hand, attempting to detangle it with her fingers. "Sorry, kid. I don't know if that's what you were looking for or not but… I don't want you to end up like me and Alex. Two sad almost thirty-year-old's still trying to kick habits from our teen years."
"Aren't you twenty-four?" I ask, not entirely sure that's what I meant to say.
She looks up at me and smiles, kicking my foot with hers. "Yeah, I'm twenty-four. Like I said, practically thirty." She gives me a smirk and bumps my shoulder with hers again. "Point is... don't start something as stupid as this. Trying to numb the way you feel cause it's all too much sometimes. Alex can tell you firsthand how badly that's worked out for him. You'll regret it by the time you're our age, I can promise you that."
I want to ask her what she means about Alex or what their uncle was hinting at earlier tonight but I don't. Maybe it's not my place to ask and maybe I'm just too much of a coward to speak. Either way, I stay silent and Anastasia doesn't say a word.
Eventually, she slips another cigarette from her pack and lights up again. I spend a while just watching the smoke rising high in the air and pretending like seeing it is easing all of the fucked-up parts of me. Even though it's not even close.
When it's too cold to do anything more than shiver, Alex comes outside again. He nudges Anastasia in the lower back with his foot, staring pointedly at the pile of cigarettes she's gone through in the time we've been out here.
He folds his arms over his chest. "Everyone's gone to their hotel rooms for the night. Except the usual's. You can stop hiding out now but your chimney has to stay out here."
"Fuck off," she says, stubbing out the last of her cigarette before she stands from the stairs. She groans softly as she stretches her arms over her head and even though I should probably follow her as she heads for the door, I don't make a move.
Alex hesitates beside me for a few seconds before he sinks down on the top stair. "You okay?" he asks softly and I want to be. I think I could be okay if I'd stop letting all of this shit fuck with me so much. But right now… I just want to sleep and not think about what tomorrow will bring.
"Yeah," I respond before I stand up too, brushing my hands down my jeans. I throw another glance to the sky overhead before I blow out a breath and look down at Alex, who's risen to his feet now. "Can I take a shower?"
He nods, looping his arm around my shoulders, being careful of how close he gets to my back. "Of course. Mom and I gotta take care of a few things anyway. You're sleeping in my old room tonight so you'll have it all to yourself. I figured you might want some privacy," he says, giving me a smile that should probably ease the tension in my gut but it just makes my stomach drop. I don't know if I want to be alone tonight.
I nod anyway and he drops his arm from around my shoulders as we head for the door together. He opens it for me and I follow him inside, shivering from the cold. The warmth of the Moreno house hits me full-force and I almost shatter under the sudden change.
"Bathroom is straight up the stairs, third door on the left. Your bag's already in my room," he says, frowning just a little before he glances past me. "Ana, will you show him to my room?"
I glance over my shoulder in time to see Anastasia nod but I don't get a chance to follow her before Tatiana calls my name.
"Come here, miel," she says, coming out of the kitchen. She's drying her hands on a towel that she passes off to Alex before crossing the distance over to me.
I let her pull me into a hug and even though it hurts my back, I don't say a word because this closeness is worth the pain. I'm still shivering from the cold outside and Tatiana calls Anastasia down for not bringing me inside sooner.
"What was I supposed to do – drag him inside?"
Tatiana pulls away from me, maybe to call Anastasia down again, but with the movement and my exhale, her focus is on me again in an instant. She frowns, tilting her head to one side before she puts her hand on either side of my face.
"Miel, is that cigarette smoke I smell on you?" she asks and my stomach drops at the question. Shit.
I don't want to lie to Tatiana but I don't want to rat Anastasia out so I shrug, dropping my gaze to the ground. I don't know if she'd understand that need inside of myself the way that Anastasia does. I didn't even really want that cigarette. I just wanted something to do more than scratch the surface of the way that I feel. I wanted something that would numb the pain or maybe make it burn more. I just wanted something. But I don't think that was it.
"Sorry… I don't know why I had it, I just… couldn't think," I mumble, stepping back a pace from Tatiana in the silence. I keep my gaze on the floor, not daring to look up at her, but she keeps her hands on my face, not letting me go anywhere.
She tsks softly, patting me gently on the face before she whispers my name and I feel obligated to look up at her. I meet her gaze and she frowns just a little, shaking her head. "It's really terrible for you," she says softly, moving her hands from my face down to my shoulders.
I nod, not sure if I'm supposed to apologize again or if there's anything I should say in this moment. If this was one of my parents, I don't think an apology would do any good. I think that Tatiana deserves one but I'm not sure that it would matter coming from me.
"If it's… alright with you, I'm gonna take a shower and go to bed," I mumble, unable to hold her gaze for longer than a few seconds.
Tatiana lets me go and I'm quick to leave, following Anastasia up the stairs. I hear Tatiana call Alex's name and even though I want to hear what she might ask about me, a part of me doesn't want to know. I don't want to hear her reaction when she's told just how broken I've become lately.
"Alex's room is through here," Anastasia says as soon as we're on the landing. She motions for me to follow her and starts down a narrow hallway, darkened by the time of night.
I follow after her, trying not to trip over my own feet, and she stops in front of Alex's door. She twists the handle open for me and steps back to let me in first. "This isn't even a fraction of what this place looked like when he was still living at home. Imagine posters for punk rock bands, piles of laundry, poorly hidden porn magazines and cigarettes and that was his bedroom."
It's hard to imagine Alex as anything other than the person I've always known. In my mind, Alex is nothing like that. But I nod anyway and cross the room to his bed as soon as I see my bag on the end.
"I'll go make sure no one's staked claim on the bathroom. In this house, it's move fast or you don't shower until tomorrow morning," she says, a grin to her tone that I just can't give back. So I nod again and she leaves the room.
While she's gone, I take my time picking through the clothes I packed with Alex earlier today. I don't know what I'm looking for exactly but I want something easy to wear. Nothing that'll sit too heavily on my back or be hard to pull on over my head. I don't want to cause any more pain than I'm already in.
"Bathroom's free," Anastasia says from her spot in the doorway again. She raises an eyebrow when I look up at her and I guess my expression is hard to read. She doesn't seem to know what else to say so she gestures down the hall and I nod again, tucking my clothes underneath my arm before I start for the exit.
Anastasia steps out of my way and I've taken three steps down the hall before she calls my name softly. She's leaning against the doorframe again when I turn around to look at her and for a few seconds, she doesn't say anything. She just watches me and I wonder how much she can see. It's dark in the hallway, save for one small window that's letting a bit of moonlight in. I wonder what I look like to her now. If my bruises and my pain are as obvious now as they were outside. When she was smoking and I was dying to feel better.
She exhales softly and pushes away from the doorframe. "Towels are underneath the sink. Soap is too, in case no one replaced it. I'm one door down from the bathroom so… let me know if you need anything."
I quietly give her my thanks before I continue down the hall and step into the bathroom. As soon as the door closes behind me, I give myself the permission to fall apart. I'm not in front of anyone and despite how many tears have escaped me today, I don't think I'm rid of them all yet. But even though everything hurts and I feel so fucking lost and I'm finally alone, I don't shed a single tear while I shower.
Maybe I'm saving them up for the next time I'm around someone willing to put up with me and maybe I'm just not in the headspace to cry anymore. Either way, my eyes are dry the whole time I'm alone and I don't know what to make of it. Everything sucks and everything hurts. Shouldn't I be a pathetic, fucking mess by now?
The pounding of the shower reopens all the welts dad left on my back. Each one hurts a million times worse than before. I do my best to face the shower head instead of letting my back take the brunt of it but it doesn't help much.
I cut the water off when I can't take the pain anymore and I end up leaning against the wall of the shower as I catch my breath. It's been a long time since something as simple as showering has hurt this badly. It's been years since dad's opened my skin with anything other than his fists. I guess I'm just not used to it anymore.
The silence is heavy around me as I towel off and get dressed, trying to be careful about the t-shirt I pull on over my head. I thought it would be more comfortable than some of my long-sleeved shirts but this one clings in all the wrong ways and the welts on my back ache from the pressure.
I see a laundry basket in a space between the shower and the sink so I ditch my clothes in there, making a mental note to ask Alex where the laundry room is tomorrow. I give myself a final once-over in the mirror before I leave the bathroom.
I don't know why I even bother to look at my reflection anymore. After dad's through with me, my face is always unrecognizable and I should stop trying to think it'll be anything different. The bruises on my body are always gonna be a part of me – whether they're visible or not.
The door to Alex's room is open and I hesitate in the hallway, my phone clutched in my hand, for a few seconds before I find the courage to go down the hall.
Alex is sitting on the end of his bed, staring at his phone screen and tapping out a message or something. He looks up when I push the door shut behind me and he offers up a tired smile before he drops his phone on the bed.
"Hey. You doing okay?" he asks softly.
For once, I decide not to lie. My back hurts so badly, I don't think I'll be able to sleep for hours. I skipped treating my back last night but I don't think I can this time.
"No," I say, pushing away from the door with my gaze on the ground. "Can you… help me?"
Alex stands up from the bed when I cross over to him. He places one hand on my shoulder. "Of course. What do you need me to do?"
Fix me. Make this hurricane in my head go away. Tell me that I'm welcome here for however long I need to stay. Tell me that all of this fear that's wrapped around my bones is just in my head and I'm not as much of a burden as I always think I am. Tell me I'm okay. Tell me I'm more than okay.
"My back," is what leaves my mouth and I'm proud of myself for holding back the word vomit clogging up my headspace. This isn't the time to unload all of my insecurities and drop them at Alex's feet.
He lets go of me when I pull back a little and I ease my shirt off of my head and drop it on his bedroom carpet. I let out a breath before I turn my back to him and his attempt at stifling the noise that leaves him fails. I hear his surprise and I wish I could see how bad it really looks.
"Okay, I'll get the um… yeah, I've got the burn cream the doctor prescribed. It's in my bag," he says softly, letting out a breath before I feel his hand on my shoulder. "I'm gonna… go get it. Just hold still for a second."
He doesn't say anything for about thirty seconds but I feel his hand on me. He breaks the silence with a soft swear tumbled from his lips and a frustrated groan. Like he's tired of seeing me like this. And I don't know if he's just tired of me being in pain or if he's tired of me. It doesn't matter either way.
"I'll be right back, okay? You just… stay here," he says softly, before he crosses over to the door. He pulls the door closed behind him and the sound is almost deafening to me.
I sink down on the edge of Alex's bed and clutch my phone tightly in my hands. I don't want to be here anymore. Not like this. I'm in so much pain I can barely breathe and I hate that Alex has to deal with me like this again. I've always taken so much from him and never even thought about what it would be like for him. But I'm here again and he's helping me cause that's just who he is.
The house feels so much quieter now. I can barely remember what it sounded like when the dining room was filled up with people I care about and strangers that I wanted to know better. All I remember about earlier is how the panic settled in my bones and how I so desperately wanted to get away. Now that it's over and I'm sitting here with my back as fucked up as it is, I almost wish for that panic again.
When the door creaks open, I look up. Alex is stepping inside with a bag in his hand. He pushes the door shut behind him and crosses over to the bed, instructing me to turn my back toward him.
Alex sinks down on the bed just behind me, placing his hand gently on my shoulder. "Jesus, this is bad," he practically whispers before his touch leaves my skin. I can hear him unzip his bag and I close my eyes at the sound, trying to remember the last time I was in this much pain. Maybe after I fucked up my calf during last season. Or when dad took a baseball bat to my ribcage two summers ago. Maybe when I saw the tears in Danny's eyes that night out on his porch when I left him behind for someone that doesn't give a shit about me.
"This is going to hurt," Alex warns me and I brace myself, curling my hands around the comforter. He puts his hand on his shoulder, almost like he's bracing himself too, and he lets out a soft breath before he moves his other hand down to where the marks start.
Painful doesn't even begin to describe the feeling of his hands on me as he applies the medication. It feels like it did in the hospital. When I had to have Alex practically hold me down just so I could take it. I'm keeping a death grip on one end of the comforter just to stop myself from reaching back. I know eventually the medication will start to numb everything but holy fuck, I'm dying.
"I'm sorry," he whispers, pausing his movements for a minute to give me a break. He gently runs his hand down my arm, trying to soothe me with the action but it doesn't work. I think he gets that because he stops almost as soon as he starts.
I tense as soon as his hand leaves me and he groans softly. "I think my mom should do this," he says, a sigh tumbling from him as soon I shake my head. "She's a nurse, Dash. She'll know how to do this better, I don't even know if I'm doing this right."
"Dr. Porter said to massage it into the worse areas and let it dry," I remind him, letting out a breath before I clench my teeth again. "Please just… get it over with."
Alex blows out a breath but he braces his hand on my shoulder again and starts applying the medication. It hurts even worse this time but I keep my teeth gritted and bury my face in the comforter to smother my noises. The pain is so bad, I think I almost pass out.
"I got all that I could," Alex says softly and it takes me a few seconds to realize his hands are no longer on me. The pain is still radiating through every area of my back but I pretend that the worst of it is over. "I still need to wrap it though."
I slowly release my death grip on the comforter and let out a low breath, nodding in the silence. He's quiet behind me, putting the medication away in his bag, and I listen to his every sound. I wish I knew what he was thinking. If his frustration is because of me or for me.
He gets the gauze from his bag and I straighten up when he needs me to, moving my arms out of the way. The numbness has started to kick in and I barely feel the pain anymore. God, I don't want to do this every night.
When he's finished with my back, he stands up from the bed but hesitates beside me, seeming unsure of what to do now. I want to pretend that this didn't just happen but I don't know if I can spend this night alone. And as much as Alex deserves time away from all of my shit, I can't find it in myself to give him that.
"Alex, I… don't want to be alone tonight," I admit, my voice barely above a whisper. Like I'm afraid to say it out loud. But I can't be alone and I don't want to be away from Alex in this big house filled with people I don't know.
He drops his bag on the bed again and puts his hand under my chin, turning my face up to look at him. He's frowning and I don't know if it's because of what I've asked of him or still from the state of my back. His touch is gentle and his expression is kind.
"I'll stay with you. All night," he promises.
Everything in me relaxes with that one promise and I think I'm able to give him a halfway decent smile. His expression is still sad but he manages a smile too before he pulls me against his chest. He keeps his hands far away from my back, running his fingers through my hair instead, before he leans down to press a kiss to my hairline.
"Let me get the rest of my stuff from Anastasia's room and I'll be back, okay?" Alex pulls away from me, gently running his thumb down the side of my face. I don't want to let on that it hurts so I force another smile as I nod and he drops his hand before stepping away from me.
I watch him cross the room and slip quietly out the door before I let out a breath I didn't realize I was holding in. I don't know if I'll ever reach a point where I'm not scared of Alex's reaction to something I've finally decided to admit to him but maybe one day. Maybe there'll come a time when my first thought isn't of him pushing me away.
The door opens almost as soon as I get up from the bed and I turn to look. Alex steps into the room again with a pillow tucked under one arm and a blanket balled up in the other hand. When he sighs, I catch the expression on his face and I think it's exhaustion. It's pulling at every part of him and I guilt runs through me. I shouldn't have asked him to stay with me – he should be able to get some time away from me and not have to deal with what I'm going through anymore.
"I managed to bribe Anastasia into letting me shower first so… I'm gonna go do that and I'll be back in just a couple minutes, okay?" Alex says as he crosses through the room. He starts digging through the duffel bag he packed at his place this morning and pulls out a pair of pajama pants and a black t-shirt that looks almost one size up from what I changed out of.
He catches me watching him and without asking, he pulls another shirt from his bag and offers it up to me. "This one might be more comfortable than the other one you had on."
I take it from him, mumbling my thanks, and immediately slip it on over my head. The fabric still weighs heavily on my back but it's better than that other shirt was so I leave it on. Alex keeps his gaze away from me as he gathers his clothes and I can't tell if the avoidance is for my benefit or for his.
"You can go ahead and lay down. I know you're probably tired," he says, zipping his bag closed and finally looking up at me again. He gives me a tired smile and puts his hand on my shoulder again. "I'll try not to wake you when I come back in."
I nod, even though I'm pretty sure I'll still be awake by the time he comes back. When the door is closed behind him and the silence settles in, I cross the room and cut the light out. I don't want to sit with the light on and wait for him to get back. I think that's the textbook definition of pathetic.
Alex's bed is warm when I crawl into it and draw the covers up under my chin. The house is quiet around me and I can only stand it for so long. When the seconds turn into minutes, I lose my patience and I pull my phone from the depths of the covers where I shoved it as soon as I got in bed.
My phone brightness is almost blinding when I turn my screen on so I nudge it down a few notches. I don't know if it's right to text Danny first again but it's what my heart wants and for once, I let myself go to him. I kissed him. He kissed me. That has to mean that it's okay to text him first.
To: Danny
How's your Christmas Eve been?
I don't know if it's fair to drag him away from whatever he's doing but I want him in this moment. I want him to be the one that will lie next to me in the quiet and I want his arms around me as I try to sleep. But he's got his family to be with over the next couple of days and I've got the Moreno's around me for now.
From: Danny
Between my dad taking an obnoxious amount of photos, my mom chugging half a bottle of wine, and Sam almost coming to blows with my sister over some kind of disagreement I missed… it's been interesting :P
How's yours going?
I can picture it. I hate that I can picture it even though I don't know his family that well. But I can see Jazz teasing Sam or doing whatever she did to rile Sam up that much. And I can see Mrs. Fenton downing glasses of wine while Jack takes photos of everyone, probably telling them all to say cheese as he snaps away.
To: Danny
Sounds amazing, to be honest. Mine's over for the most part. I'm in bed and I think everyone else is headed that way too
That should be where I end it but I'm alone and I want something to chase that feeling away even if this is only temporary.
To: Danny
Got any photos to share with me that your dad took?
From: Danny
Ahh, I see. Where are you at – I know you said you're spending the holidays with Alex's but are you at his apartment or…?
I don't have any photos that my dad took but I'll send you one that I took earlier, hang on
[NEW MEDIA MESSAGE]
I think I die a little at the photo that loads on my screen. It's a picture of him, sitting on the staircase in his house, festive garland and holiday lights strung around the banister. He's leaning against the banister, wearing a smile that looks almost sad as the lights from the garland reflect on the side of his face.
He looks so cute. He looks so fucking cute. He's wearing the hoodie I gave him yesterday and I love the way it looks on him. I love how he makes it look and I love that he's wearing it. I wonder if he thought of me when he slipped it on at some point in the day.
I type out several messages to Danny before I remember that I can tell him the truth now. I can say that he looks cute and it won't be weird because he knows now. He knows how badly I want him and he told me he wants me too.
To: Danny
You look really good in my hoodie
It's cute on you
From: Danny
My dad loves it, honestly. He says it makes me look less pale haha
To: Danny
I think it makes you look taken
I almost lose my nerve at what I chose to type back but I send it anyway. I'm chewing on my fingernails as I watch the text send and I practically bury my face in my hands, waiting on his response. This isn't as easy as I thought it would be. I thought that as soon as he knew how I felt about him, that everything would fall into place and I'd suddenly know how to say all of the shit inside my head. But I'll never be smooth and I can only hope that Danny won't mind that much.
From: Danny
Holy shit, Dash
My heart jumps at his text and for a few seconds, panic tries to gnaw at my bones. Maybe it's too soon to be making jokes like that and maybe it's a bad idea because it's not really a joke, is it? He is taken. Not that… I own him or anything, that's just fucking creepy. But he is mine. At least… I thought he was?
His texts start pouring in and each one eases the tension trying to wedge its way into my heart and by the end of them all, I'm pressing the covers to my face to try and quiet my laughter.
From: Danny
My parents are literally only a few feet from me, okay?
I just blushed so hard and I think I made a noise cause they looked up at me
And Jazz is trying to be subtle with the grin she's giving me but I know what she's thinking
Warn me next time you're about to make me go red like that?
To: Danny
Will you send me a picture of what you look like now? ;p
From: Danny
NO, you jerk!
I bury my face in the covers on Alex's bed, trying to smother the laughter better but damn. It feels good to laugh – even at something as ridiculous as this.
To: Danny
Oh come on, just one little picture?
From: Danny
[NEW MEDIA MESSAGE]
A photo of his middle finger loads on my screen and I laugh out loud, momentarily forgetting to cover my mouth. I manage to one-handedly type back my response and I bury myself further under the covers, still snickering at his photo.
To: Danny
That's so classy of you
From: Danny
You started it
The door opens behind me before I have a chance to respond and I look over my shoulder as Alex steps back inside. He smiles softly before he clicks the light on and closes the door behind him.
"Sorry, did I wake you?" he asks, crossing over to his bag and putting a few things back in it.
I shake my head when he looks up at me and my phone vibrates softly in my hand. Alex glances at my phone before he looks toward the light switch. "Do you sleep with the light on or off?"
"Off," I respond, and wait until he crosses over to the switch before I turn back to my phone. I don't turn the screen on again, nerves eating away at me. It should be easy to just talk to Danny but Alex is here now. And I don't know why that makes me nervous but it does and I can't shake the feeling.
Alex clicks the light out and crosses the room back to his bed and I make room for him. I scoot over on the mattress and he crawls in beside me. I keep my back to him and he's careful of his movements. I guess he's trying not to jar me.
"Will it bother you if I'm on my phone for a little while?" Alex asks softly, exhaling out into the quiet. "I can never fall asleep as soon as I lay down so I read on my phone until I'm exhausted."
I shake my head but remember that we're in darkness. "No, that's fine. I'll… probably be on mine, too."
"Cool," Alex responds, rolling over. He's quiet but I hear his phone unlock. I guess he silences it after that because that's the only noise I hear from him even as he starts to type.
It takes me a good few minutes to work up the nerve to turn my phone screen on again but I manage to do it. I turn my sound off too before I read over Danny's latest texts, my heart tensing up a little at the messages he's sent me.
From: Danny
I know you probably don't want to deal with this stuff right now so feel free to tell me to shut up and I'll get it
But have you given any thought as to what happens now?
Obviously, you don't have to come a decision about this over the holidays but… are you still planning on moving in with Alex?
Shit. I don't want to think about this right now. I don't want to deal with this until the holidays are over and I can stand on my own without shaking. But I don't know if I'm made of the kind of strength it takes to move on from something this shattering.
To: Danny
I haven't thought about it much. And I don't want to yet
From: Danny
Of course. I completely understand
I'm here for you when you do want to think about it. Or if you need somebody to talk to about this, I'm here for that too
To: Danny
I just want to survive Christmas
From: Danny
:(
I'm sorry
Is it getting any easier?
To: Danny
No
I mean, in some ways, yeah
I don't know why tears are gathering in my eyes but I fucking hate that it's happening now. Alex is right behind me, I shouldn't be on the verge of crying. I've already asked him to stay with me for the night, I can't drag him into this brewing panic.
From: Danny
I know it's hard. But I'm really proud of you for going through with this
Part of me wishes I had never come here. I love Tatiana and Anastasia but I don't know the rest of Alex's family. They don't know me. And it's twisting me up inside, it's making everything harder and I don't know how to breathe around the lump in my throat.
From: Danny
I'm sorry. I wish I knew how to help you
To: Danny
Don't worry about it, it's not your problem to deal with
From: Danny
Maybe not but I care a lot about you. And I want to help you but I know I can't
I'm here for you, okay? Whatever you need
If Danny had the power to fix everything for me, I would probably dump it all at his feet and sit with him as we sorted through it together. But it's not his responsibility and I've already put so much shit on everyone else, it's not fair of me to drag Danny into this too.
To: Danny
I know. Thank you
I don't know what else to say and I'm exhausted and in pain. So I click my phone screen off and slip it under the pillow, shutting my eyes in the darkness. I feel Alex shift on the mattress beside me and I listen to his quiet breathing until sleep takes me far away from all of this.
The night seems to last forever. I wake up so many times because my back or my face is hurting and it drags from sleep. It takes me a while to fall back asleep every time but most of the time, I watch Alex sleeping and it helps lull me back to dreamland.
I wake up at some point in the night, not out of pain but out of something more sinister. I don't remember what I was dreaming but whatever was playing out behind my closed lids jarred me into consciousness.
A scream is ripped from my throat before I can silence it and I try to cut it off by pressing my fist against my closed lips. The panic is rippling through every part of me and I can't stop shaking. I can't stop my mind from running and when Alex speaks softly next to me, his words don't register.
I'm starting to panic and when my stomach lurches, I expect to throw up. My stomach clenches and unclenches rapidly and I try to get the covers off me but I can't. My hands aren't working. Panic is making itself a home dead center in my chest. Coursing through my veins with every beat of my pounding heart.
"Dash," Alex calls softly, his voice breaking through the fog that's wrapped around me from the moment I woke up.
I can't come down from this and I can't stop shaking. I try again to rip the blankets off of me but my hands are clumsy and the swears tumbling from my lips are scared and panicked. I'm not strong enough for this. I can't handle this.
"Dash, hey, it's alright," Alex says softly, grabbing onto my shoulders. He stops me from going anywhere and it forces more of the panic out of me. I struggle against him and he only holds on tighter. "It's alright. You were dreaming, it's alright."
I try to let his words take away this panic but it's coming from somewhere deep inside myself and I can't breathe. I can't do a single fucking thing to stop this and Alex won't let go of me. He wraps his arms around my chest and drags me back toward him.
The blankets are tangled around my legs and I'm fighting like hell just to drag in a breath as Alex tightens his hold on me. I think I say something but it doesn't make sense in my head. It's all garbled and doesn't sound like actual words.
"It's okay," he calls over what I'm saying and I think he's trying to calm me down. But I'm hyper-ventilating and nothing can stop it now. I'm shaking and every part of me is cold to the bone and on fucking fire at the same time. I can't stop this. Nothing can stop this.
Alex locks his arms around my chest and brings me back against his. "Dash," he's saying, his voice near my ear. "Dash, it's okay. I've got you, okay? I've got you. It was just a dream."
The panic is ringing in my bones like it wasn't just a dream. Like the things my mind was tormenting me with were real. And I can't stop hyper-ventilating. Even as Alex keeps me against his chest, my back stinging from the sudden contact, I can't breathe right. It's coming in gasps and wheezes but Alex won't let me go. He keeps his hold on me and having someone's arms around me slowly wedges a breath of sanity in my head.
"I've got you," he whispers again and this time, I hear him. Over the pounding of my own heart and the panic tearing through me like a wild animal. I hear him. And I fucking fall apart.
There's something close to hysteria running through me as the tears come and I twist my fingers around strands of my hair, trying to just calm down. Alex doesn't try to get me to stop. He just holds me and tells me that it's okay. That everything's okay. That he's got me. He's got me.
I don't know if the tears or the hysteria stops first but something gives and I'm left just leaning against Alex's chest. Despite how small it makes feel and despite the pain running through my back, I don't leave his arms. Because having him hold me feels better than trying to hold in all this sadness. All this fear. And he might change his mind and it might not last forever but for now, he's got me. And it's enough to calm the most panic-riddled parts of myself until sleep takes me far away again.
A/N:
Yoooo! Happy Halloween ;p
SO. Before any of you come at me, I WARNED you last chapter that angst was coming. If you expected more fluff, well that's on you
I'd love to know what any of you think about this update. Any thoughts about Kendra and Alex? Or the uncle that wouldn't shut up over dinner? Or how Dash smoked outside with Anastasia? I'd love to know anything you're thinking, I love hearing thoughts about the things that have lived in my head for so many months (which btw, I checked the day I started writing this chapter and apparently it was nearly a year ago!?)
The title of this chapter comes from Everybody Hurts by R.E.M. This song is so Alex Dash in my mind haha. I'm sure most of you will have heard it by now but if you haven't, you should give it a listen. It's super chill and relaxing
Thanks for checking out another update. I hope you enjoyed it and that you're still getting something out of this story. I know it's super long. I know some of it's unnecessary. But I love it. And I'm glad you love it too. It means the world to me when someone casually talks about bingeing this story. It's been nearly three years of my life now. But it's still such a big part of me.
I don't know if I'll squeeze in an update in November – the next month is looking insane right now – but next update, you can expect more holiday fun, TONS of angst, some fluff, and just general Moreno goodness. Oh and there might be something revealed that was mentioned 30+ chapters ago. Just saying ;p
Thanks again for sticking with this story. Your support is everything
See you next update!
