Chapter Six - Change
Ciara and I sat across from each other at the kitchen table, having a staring contest. Whoever looks away first loses.
She put her head in her hands and sighed.
Ha! Loser!
"Willow," she said, her voice broken, and all of a sudden I felt a horrible guilt. She looked old against our white walls with her hair in a bun and head in her hands. But I couldn't blame her. This whole thing had been stressful for everyone.
"Ciara," I responded flatly.
Ciara took her head out of her hands and sighed again, at me. What was this supposed to mean? She always sighed at me when I was being difficult. Or at least, that's what she said.
"Why weren't you there?" she asked me.
I wanted to punch her. "What do you mean, why wasn't I there? I don't go to parties, Ciara. You know that. And even if I was, what do you expect me to have done?"
"Something. Anything." Ciara threw up her hands like she'd had it and I scowled, standing up and knocking over the chair (surprisingly on accident) as I did it. I walked out of the house and slammed the door, not caring what she did.
Seth was already waiting outside when I walked up to his house.
"How did you know I was coming?" I questioned.
He shrugged. "Just had this feeling."
"I don't want to see anything gory today," I said to Seth as he went through his collection of DVDs. It was endless, filling up a cabinet in the living room, part of his bedroom, and a small corner in the kitchen (why it was in the kitchen, I had no idea.) Seth nodded; he could understand, after what had happened with Heather.
"Something funny?"
"No."
"Burgular mystery?"
"No."
"Some gushy crap?"
"Hell no."
I could tell Seth was tired of me; I'd been getting on everyone's nerves lately. Nonetheless, he stood up and said, like a gentleman, "Well, is there anything else that would interest you?"
"No. I don't feel like watching movies today. I just want to sit here." I stretched my legs out on the stool that stood in front of his sofa as he sat next to me, practically knocking me off the couch with his hugeness. He opened his mouth like he was going to say something, but then closed it.
"The doctors said she's going to have to go to therapy for a little while." Seth nodded again.
"That's big," he said.
"No," I said, now pissed at him for no reason at all, "it's not. It's stupid. She shouldn't have to go to therapy. She shouldn't have to do any of this. If I was there, that idiot could have backed off. My sister might not have had to do this crap." I turned away from Seth and tried to hold back the sudden tears, something I'd been doing a lot of lately.
Ever since Heather had come home from her friend's party two nights ago, things had changed. The doctor had announced date rape and apparently, Heather's various injuries came from when she tried to resist. I didn't like to think of this and it had given me plenty of nightmares from which I woke up crying, sheets sticking to my skin.
Given the circumstances, I guessed I was doing okay at work. I smiled at the customers and did my job. Things were going well until I'd burst into tears that afternoon. Seth and Paul had to lead me outside and sit me on the bench, then return inside, watching anxiously through the doors with customers constantly tugging on their shirt sleeves.
While I sat there and freaked out.
Heather was released from the hospital that evening. Seth and I went to pick her up and I burst into tears all over again at the sight of her; she looked awful, with her eyes screwed up and all of those injuries from that freaking bastard. Heather gave my shoulder a pat, just like Embry, and followed us wordlessly into the car.
"Are either of you hungry?" Seth asked us after a minute. I was busy squeezing my nose with two fingers and trying to stop the crying, but I nodded.
"Yeah," said Heather in a hoarse voice. I looked at her in shock, surprised that she'd spoken, but Seth continued driving as though this was completely normal. Maybe it was, and I was the weird one. "Do you know any good Italian places around here?" she asked. "I'm in the mood for pasta."
"Sure do," said Seth cheerfully, taking a right. "What about you, Willow?"
"Oh, uh. It doesn't matter. Wherever you're going now, I guess."
We went to some place called Frankie's and sat outside with our food. I wasn't used to being at peace with my sister and kept expecting a war to erupt. But it didn't.
Of course it was a rainy day; the wind was blowing and there was a clump of grey clouds above. I couldn't believe I was saying this, but for once in my life I was glad it was going to rain. We needed it, seeing as the endless days had been hot hot hot lately and I thought I was going to melt if I wasn't careful. La Push weather was weird.
We were just paying our waiter when the strangest thing happened. Some kind of howling was coming by a nearby forest, and it was loud, echoing all around us. The waiter clucked his tongue and rolled his eyes. Seth, on the other hand, looked confused for a second, and then a whole explosion of expressions flickered across his face before he turned back to normal and smiled at the waiter.
"Those wolves can be annoying, can't they?" he asked.
"Tell me about it."
"I didn't know that wolves lived around here," I said to Seth as we drove back up to La Push. "Aren't they supposed to live a little more south or something?"
He shook his head. "Nah." Seth must have noticed my expression, because he quickly added, "Don't worry. They stay in the forest and that's it. You don't bother them, they don't bother you. It's simple."
"Oh."
By the time we got to La Push, it was raining pretty hard. Seth let us out in front of our house and we made a mad run for it, getting mud all over ourselves and tripping all over the place. But when we came into the house, we didn't care.
For the first time I could remember, my sister and I were laughing together.
Ciara swept into the room like a ghost and said, to whom I wasn't sure, "Hey, hon." Then she brushed a strand of hair out of Heather's face (I was astounded; this day was getting weirder and weirder) and asked, "How are you?"
"Okay," said Heather, seeming just as surprised as I was.
Ciara nodded seriously and vanished. So much for her actually caring.
Heather went to take a shower, and I traveled upstairs to check on CJ. When I leaned over his crib, he moved his hand a little bit and let out a contented sigh in his sleep. I gave his fingers a kiss and quietly exited the room.
Our shower was constantly out of hot water, so Heather was out of there in a matter of minutes. She was sitting on her bed and combing her hair out when I came into her room. I sat next to her, wanting to say something, but unsure of what, exactly.
"So," I said softly after a minute, "do you want to talk about it?" We hadn't had a chance to talk at all, and neither of us really felt like discussing what had happened around Seth. But now it was just the two of us, limitless.
Heather didn't say anything. Finally, she finished with her hair and sat her comb on the table next to her bed. "No," she replied, wincing a little bit as she moved her broken wrist (now with a cast around it) in a sudden jerk. "But I'm going to have to tomorrow anyway, so it doesn't really matter."
Tomorrow was Heather's first meeting with a physciatrist. I'd totally forgotten about it. I waited for her to continue and hoped this wouldn't be too painful, even though I knew it would be.
"Well," Heather began, "I remember being at the party and having a good time dancing and everything. There was a guy...I don't remember his name...But anyway, he started talking to me and eventually we went outside. I didn't mean to, you know, sleep with him, but apparently, that's what he thought."
She took a deep breath before continuing.
"Then he put me in his car and..." Heather put a hand over her eyes, and after a second, dropped it. "I kept telling him that I didn't want to go so far, but he wouldn't listen. I tried to get him off of me and, well, you can obviously see what came out of that. I only managed to get away after it was over."
We both sat there without saying anything. I could imagine it all happening, as though I was Heather.
"Hey, there." Some guy smiling at me from behind tinted glasses. "What's your name?"
An empty can of beer. "Wow, you're hammered." A chuckle. "You might want some fresh air."
Being slammed against the seat and--
I forced myself to stop thinking about this when I realized how horribly I was trembling. I tried to direct my mind to other things. "Heather," I said, "it's not your fault."
She just shrugged. "I don't know," she replied with a cracked voice, "I feel like it is. I mean, if I was stronger and could fight him off, this would never have happened."
I couldn't believe this. "It's not your fault," I repeated. "How can you expect to be able to beat up a full-grown man? Most people can't, Heather. The only person at fault here is him. Not you."
"Yeah, but-" Heather broke off, and I realized that she was crying. I had made my sister cry. I felt horrible for doing so, but for once in my life, I hadn't meant to.
I put my arm around her and wiped away the tears with a stray pillowcase. I couldn't think of the right thing to say. All I could do was hold her close and be the sister I should have been all along.