I sat on the porch steps, basking in the afternoon sun. The air carried a warm breeze as birds flew overhead, black wings a stark contrast to the blue sky. Today felt bittersweet. A heavy feeling stirred in the very back of my heart, but I sternly forced it away. There was no point dwelling. Still, the events from last night loomed in the back of my mind.
I nervously twirled pasta around my fork, making repeated tracks through the red sauce. My brother and father sat enthralled in conversation. It could have been about move in day, or their plan to steal the Declaration of Independence for all I knew; I heard none of it.
Tell them 'I'm going to Ticsh.' It's not that hard. I'm going to Ticsh, I'm going to Ticsh, I'm going to Ticsh, "I'm going to Ticsh." I hadn't meant to say the words out loud, but now they were out. The words hung in the air between us. My words had quieted my family's conversation.
"What?" My brother asked.
I sat down my fork slowly. It clinked against my plate as it settled. My heart pounded within my chest. "I applied to Tisch art program at NYU, and...I, I got in."
"What?" My brother stood up, pushing his chair back. "That's awesome." I stood to meet him as his arms embraced me, smiling against his shoulder. A weight felt lifted off of me now that I had told them, now that – "No." My father's voice was like a splash of cold water to my system.
I stepped out of my brother's embrace and turned to face my father. "What?" I questioned, certain I'd misheard.
"No, you are not attending that school, Clarissa." He replied, still calmly eating his spaghetti.
"Yes." I forced my chin up, gathering on every bit of stubborn resistance I possessed. "I am."
He blotted at his mouth with his napkin, though there was nothing there to clean.
"I said no. That is my final answer."
"I don't accept that." Heat spread across my cheeks, caused by anger, not embarrassment.
He stood, moving so that he was directly in front of me. Jonathan shifted closer to me instinctively.
"Do not question me, Clarissa. If you do, you won't like the result."
I stepped forward with a brusqueness I didn't feel, batting away my brother's warning hand.
"Try to stop me." I said, surprised at the edge my voice carried.
I took in a deep breath, not prepared for it to get stuck. I gasped as my father wrapped his hand around my throat, his fingers digging in and crushing my windpipe. I tried to cough past the pressure, my face warming with an entirely different heat. I pried at his hand, digging my fingers into the flesh of his hand. It didn't faze him. My feet whispered against the floor as he backed me into the wall and lifted me so that my face was level with his. I kicked out at him, desperately trying to break his hold. My lungs screamed as I tried and failed to drag in any air at all. It felt like an eternity, but was maybe a few seconds before Jonathan yanked my dad off of me, moving to stand in front of me protectively. I caught myself on the edge of the table, determined not to fall in front of him as I coughed against the burning in my throat, dragging in greedy gulps of air. "Dad, no!" He said, eyes blazing.
My father passed a glance over my brother, apparently taking only a moment to decide to ignore Jonathan's 'act of defiance'. "Remember, Clarissa." He cautioned, catching my eyes. My veins burned with a furious hate towards him, my brother in front of me the only thing stopping me from retaliating. "Never defy me." And with that he turned and headed into his room, as if he had just reminded me to not stay up too late before retiring. My brother's body remained tense until several moments after we had heard the bedroom door click shut. My brother turned to me. I warded him off with an outstretched hand. "No." I said, walking past him. I needed to be out of that corner, to feel as if I was no longer trapped there.
"What happens when you're gone, left for college?" I asked.
Jonathan pressed his lips together, his eyes pained.
"I'm done. I'm so fucking done." After that, I headed to my room, making sure I shut – and locked – my door behind me.
"Ready?" The voice knocked me out of the memory. I looked up, finding Jace looking down at me. I nodded, letting him pull me up. As we buckled into the car, I found myself looking at him. I decided, right then an there. I was going to leave all of this pain behind me. My father, while a painful part of it, was going to be my past. And he was going to stay there. But Jace, my brother, my friends, my new school, and even my new relationship with Mom and Luke – that was my future. As Jace finished clicking his seatbelt in, I reached over and gripped his chin, turning his face as I kissed his lips. The kiss was small and quick, but it held so much emotion. Our bags were packed. We were driving up to the school, to the next chapter in our lives. We were going to get settled, and then meet Jon in a week to help him move in to his dorm. It was a new life, one far away from the past. "What was that for?" Jace asked as we parted.
"Just because I love you." I said simply.
He smiled at me, one of those small smiles that still managed to light up his face. He tugged on a curl, and pressed a second, light kiss to my lips before turning and easing the car out of my driveway. I watched the road ahead, refusing to face the past as it passed me in the rearview mirror.
Hmm. Not super sure about this one. I hope y'all liked it. This is about to get real interesting... – Megan
