Author's Note: Oh, hey. Sorry this chapter took a little longer than the other two, I was pretty busy between having a guest in our home, the holidays, and starting school in early January. Also, this chapter is a bit on the short side, but it's the best I could do without intruding on the other chapters to come.
Thanks to sheneverupdates, Artemis of Luna, Sony89, sanaa, Maou, ayushi, Kenrai, DayDreaming0f y0u, InuNarufan01, peachesbunny, blueanimefreak, TeenageDream92, cartoon-watcher-4-eva, saekuto, S. Ivanov, Kamakaze Kheri, ToraHimeSama, rach, and Shiningheart of ThunderClan for the reviews! It's really appreciated.
Disclaimer: I don't own Beyblade.
Chapter Eleven: Sink Ships
Hilary's heart had dropped and risen unhealthily at the same time. It was the only way to describe it. She could feel the gut wrenching churning of her stomach feeding on her heart, while simultaneously her throat was closing quickly around it. It was horrible. She had no idea that watching Tyson vanishing from her sight could make her feel this way.
She immediately glanced to her Father, his back still facing her as he silently seethed over the boy. Hilary took this to her advantage and slid carefully off the counter, letting her heels touch the floor with care. This was not the time for abruptness, unless she wanted to end up toppled over on the ground.
Mr. Tatibana ran a hand through his hair slowly, unconsciously feeling for the gray strands that were surely now growing on his head. Side stepping around her Father, Hilary attempted to pass him by without dealing with his undeniable questions.
"Where do you think you're going?" Things again weren't working in Hilary's favour. She hesitated on her trip around her Father; she didn't want to stop for too long, allowing Tyson to leave in his angered haze.
"Dad... It's not what you think."
When her Father met her gaze, her heart felt like it dropped another notch. His dark eyes were tired, creased, and disappointed as they looked into her own. They reminded her of Tyson's moments ago and a pang of guilt struck her. "What do I think?"
"Tyson's not a bad guy. He didn't do anything," Hilary side stepped toward the door cautiously. She, unfortunately, could not hide this from her Father as he knowingly watched her.
"Don't make me disappoint your Mother," he warned, his lips stretched thin.
Hilary resisted the urge to roll her eyes in annoyance, knowing it would only provoke him further and work against her favour in the long run. "We didn't do anything," she sighed, heading out the door with as much reluctance she could showcase for her Father. "He's a good guy."
She felt the need to repeat that thought as she hurried down the hallway once she knew her Father could no longer see her. With every stride she focused purely on not losing any more time. She held her arms out at her side in her balancing act, reaching the end of the long stretch of hallway to meet her greatest foe: the staircase.
Latching onto the railing with both hands, she quickly manoeuvred her way down the foreboding steps. Her feet stumbled over each other, the heels betraying her occasionally and causing one of her legs to flail about. She soon became skilled at regaining her footing and luckily had not toppled over completely.
Hilary could hear the sound of a few voices within her house now; she assumed her Father had gotten away because the toasts were now over. Not recognizing any of their voices, she decided to ignore the mingling guests in her home as she finally descended the last step.
Barrelling into the door, she pulled it open as she once again successfully fell forward. Falling uncomfortably to her knees with her palms on the ground, she could feel the initial sting of contact. Hilary hastily tossed the pain aside; her head bouncing up to quickly scan the front of her home for Tyson.
It took her a moment to see him, but he was across the road illuminated by the lights that decorated the darkened street. "Tyson!" Hilary called loudly, her voice probably breaking up numerous conversations in her backyard.
The boy stopped walking, but the brunette was unable to see his face. It wasn't that he was too far away, his back was to her. He was standing rigid under a lamp post, she could see he had his hands balled up down at his sides.
Carefully standing up from the ground, Hilary nervously wiped herself off. "Tyson?" she called again for extra measure, hoping to get him back.
He turned on his heels to face her, the light accentuating his angered features. Shadows enveloped a great deal of his face from where he was standing; his bangs and furrowed eyebrows worked together to mask his dark, intense eyes. His body language refused to relent; anger was feeding its way through his system.
The pangs of guilt for Hilary kept coming, her own body language crumbled at his very appearance. She couldn't muster yelling out his name again, feeling she no longer had that privilege. She hadn't seen him look so betrayed and upset in a long time; and even then, it was never directed at her. She wanted to fall to the ground again, ashamed of how she had acted. "Tyson...," she whispered.
Breaking out of his statue mind set, Tyson turned his attention briefly to the road. He looked both ways momentarily before he made his way back toward Hilary in front of her home. As he passed the lights, the brunette could see his unrelenting gaze even better and the down turn of his lips.
He dragged his feet over her lawn, cutting the length of the yard to get to the brunette quicker. He stopped short of her, leaving a noticeably large gap between them as he shifted his jaw back and forth in silence. Tyson merely stared coldly back at the female, awaiting what was so important he had to come back.
Hilary bit her lip at the painful silence; she hated seeing him in such a state, such indescribable anger. She didn't know what to say, what words could possibly leave her mouth to make everything better, to make everything go back to normal. She hesitated, "Tyson..."
"Mind telling me what I'm doing here?" Hilary flinched. She had heard him say that before, in her dream. But this time he wasn't wearing a wedding dress, he was in a tuxedo she made Kai get him for this occasion. And, she didn't think this was possible, his voice was rawer than in her dream. He was so angry his voice turned low and quaky, the intensity too much for his vocal cords. He stared at her so unforgiving, it tugged at her heart. "I'm waiting. Why am I here?"
Hilary opened her mouth to speak, but no words were willing to escape. Her body was trembling and she was sure it was going to reverberate into her voice. She pushed forward nonetheless, forcing sound to come out of her mouth unwillingly. "I'm... so sorry...," the brunette finally choked out, her wide eyes meeting his unusual hardened ones.
"I don't care," he bit back, his tongue lashing more snide than usual. Tyson refused to relent as Hilary's expression crumbled further. He watched as she tried to maintain what little composure she had left. "That doesn't answer my question."
Hilary ducked her head down somewhat, lip trembling slightly from the prospect of talking and hurting her friend again. She very much doubted she was even considered a friend anymore from the animosity he was giving off.
"Tell me why I'm here!" Tyson shouted. He had reached his limit a while ago and could no longer grasp his temper in an attempt to hold back. Honestly, he felt he now had the right to be frustrated with the girl; unlike all those other times, she had stepped over the boundaries.
"I'm sorry...," those were the only words that Hilary could utter. Her vision became clouded with tears as she bit her lower lip sharply, she needed to hold back from crying in front of him. He wasn't the bad guy this time.
"It's not a hard question to answer," he scowled bitterly. Tyson's eyes bore into hers without fail, challenging her to lie to him once again. "I'm getting the suspicion you're suddenly having trouble with the truth."
Hilary bowed her head down even further, avoiding his eye contact all together. She heard him grunt as a response to this, causing her to shift uncomfortably. She played with her hands in front of her in silence, at a loss of what to say.
"I mean, if you're lying to your own Father, what can I expect?" Tyson continued, his words laced in something reminiscent of sarcasm. He waited unmoving for a response, his frustration causing all of his bones to keep him in place. "Say something, Hilary. Unless you don't think I deserve it."
Hilary grimaced at his words. The way he said her name... it sounded like the very pronunciation made him sick. Yet she was still unable to fathom what she could say to him to make everything go away.
Awarded with silence once again, Tyson let out a breath of air in annoyance. "Thanks," he said darkly, turning around in preparation to finally walk away.
"Tyson," Hilary's voice squeaked. Having not gotten far once again, the boy stopped to face the girl as perturbed as ever.
"What?" he asked shrugging. His movements were erratic and over the top, his anger building on newer levels. "Are you going to actually talk to me now or continue to waste my time?"
The brunette met his intense gaze uncertainly. She needed to force herself to speak or face the consequences of pushing Tyson over another edge. "I...," her voice cracked as it met the open air between them, "I didn't mean to..."
"You didn't mean to?" Tyson repeated, rolling his eyes at the first thing she decided to tell him. His fists clenched harder together as he waved his arms spastically at his sides. "Let me tell you something, you meant it. You can't just tell your Father we're dating by accident and then never tell him the truth. You meant to lie, or you would've fixed it by the time I got here. Don't kid yourself."
Hilary swallowed uncomfortably at his tirade, guilt washing over her whole body. She could feel it affecting her in so many ways. Her stomach was churning, her pulse was frantic, and her hands were shaking. She should've listened to Ray and the others; she should've been honest from the start.
"And that's just what you told your Father. Who knows what you told everyone else," he shook his head in disgust. "And, you know what, I normally wouldn't care at all what you did if it didn't affect me. Just how many lies do affect me? Was this whole wedding a sham?"
She wanted to say that all of her Aunt Veronica's weddings were a sham or that the vows were bound to not last, but she figured Tyson wasn't in the mood for any jokes. "The wedding's real...," her voice shook as she anticipated his reply.
"You know that's not what I meant. Stop playing around, just tell me the truth," Tyson was speaking through his teeth now, his jaw set tightly in his already worn through patience. "If you can handle that," he added flatly.
"I didn't want to lie," Hilary told him softly. She strained to look at him for long periods of time, his pained expression continuing to break her down. "I had to..."
"No you didn't!" Tyson interrupted, his voice coming out as a snarl. He took a few more steps toward her daringly; every muscle in his body was tensed in comparison to Hilary's current composure. "Stop with the excuses, I don't want to hear them. I thought I made myself clear."
"You don't understand...," she told him wearily, her retort not holding much confidence. "You don't understand, my family..."
"Oh, I get your family now," he forced his laughter bitingly as he shook his head. He gestured a thumb toward himself, "I know they now think I'm a huge jerk. A dog. I made a total idiot of myself because of you, do you not realize that? They think I'm just using you... that I'm one of those guys that just jump from one girl to the next. Do you think I want to be known like that? What if all that stuff gets out there? You could have just singlehandedly ruined my reputation. They may not have an idea of who I am, but I guarantee they're going to talk."
Hilary hadn't thought of that. She watched as his shoulders moved up and down in time with his rapid breathing. "I'm sorry...," she repeated again, "Between my family and you... I just didn't know what to do..."
"Me?" Tyson scoffed, letting out another long breath of air from his mouth in annoyance. "Are you trying to say I brought this on myself?"
"No... no," Hilary sighed, looking out toward the road that was decorated with her extended family's cars for a distraction. "I didn't know how to tell you about what happened... the guys were kind of split about what to do too. I just thought it would be easier if I..."
"The guys?"
Her stomach dropped further as it churned. She probably shouldn't have mentioned them and dragged them even further into her issues. Kenny had been right about her keeping her mouth shut and not covering lies with more lies; the paths she had chosen only brought her problems.
"All of them knew?" Tyson asked, new anger rising in his already boiling veins. She nodded meekly. "That's why Max was here the other day? And why Kai agreed to get me this tux? And why Kenny knew so much about the invitation?" Hilary nodded again reluctantly. "I'm going to kill them."
"They were just trying to help me out," Hilary tried to change his mind, not wanting his betrayal to be coursed through the entire team.
"Yeah, by lying to me in the process," Tyson spat, "What kind of friends do that? Apparently I can't trust anyone on my own team."
"I don't think Daichi knew...," she realized in an attempt to console him.
"Great," he rolled his eyes.
"Kai was the only one that didn't care what I did. Ray, Max, and Kenny kept urging me to tell you the truth...," Hilary tried to explain to him in an attempt to clear her friends' names. "Max only helped me because he's Max... I threatened Kenny. Ray really wanted me to tell you, so please don't be mad at them. Be mad at me, you have reason to..."
"I have reason to be mad at whoever I want," Tyson stated, crossing his arms with his hands still closed in fists. "Tell me... what you said about that kid; was it all a lie too?"
"Yeah...," she admitted weakly.
"You must be very happy I didn't see him at all? Things were going very well for you," Tyson continued dryly, the slight quake in his voice still present. "You were never going to tell me. You were ready to make me an inside joke for your family."
"I didn't want to do that," Hilary frowned, knowing his hurting over the situation was stemming deep. "I just wanted to get them to shut-up..."
"No. You wanted them to have someone else to talk about. Thanks so much."
Hilary opened her mouth to protest when a light suddenly basked the two of them. The brunette turned to look at who opened the front door of her house to see her Father standing disapprovingly with his hand on the door; a few people stood in the house as well, looking their way curiously. Tyson squinted through the light, uncrossing his arms to block direct contact with his eyes with his hand.
"I thought I told you to leave," Mr. Tatibana hissed, not wanting to make a huge scene.
"I'm leaving," Tyson stated, turning away from the light so his eyes could adjust back to the darkness. His intense gaze bounded for Hilary's once more, "I think we're done anyway."
Hilary pressed her lips together firmly, not knowing what to say. Her vision became blurred once again as she watched the boy stalk away in clear frustration. Her Father cleared his throat behind her, signalling for her to come back into the house and forget all about the boy that was supposedly not worth her time.
She turned on her heels cautiously; passing her Father with her head turned the other way. He didn't need to see her tears. Closing the door with finality, Mr. Tatibana let out a breath of air, "Good riddance."
