Crushing Gravity
Chapter 17
"Sammy," she hesitantly steps toward me. "You've gotten so big..."
It's a shock to hear that voice outside of my own head again, and right then I know that she's real.
"Lyla," I croak again, lunging into her arms, sobbing. So many bad things have happened since we were separated.
Her hug is familiar, warm and constricting, but I've missed her so much. How many years have I wished for her to find me, to come and take me back? To say, 'let's go home' and then take my hand and lead me out the door.
I'm crying and sniffling, the first time in forever, and she's really here, squeezing me in one of her tight, tight, hugs that I used to love.
I finally calm down enough to break away, but it looks like Lyla isn't quite ready for that, so I wait patiently until she is. Normally I would freak out, but she's my sister and she's here and she came back.
Why would she come back?
"Lyla," I sniff when she finally pulls back to hold me at arms length. "Why are you here?" I finally remember the other people in the room and turn to my social worker. She looks stunned. She's never seen me cry before. "Why is she here?"
"Sammy," Lyla draws my attention back to her with a single uttered word. She takes a glance at Julia before guiding me into the living area like this is her own home, and sits me on the couch.
"Sammy, when you left...the University accepted me back in with my full scholarship. I graduated and, Sammy, I'm a doctor."
I grin for her. It was always her dream to be a doctor, to help people.
"And," she hesitates, "I'm married now." She holds out her hand for me to admire her ring, and I do so sadly.
She's been so fortunate since I was taken away. It looks like she moved on completely. So again, "What are you doing here, Lyla? Why are you here?"
She smiles at me again. "I'm here for you. Sammy, I've got a steady job back in California, a good house, good income; you can come back with me. Mathew is okay with it, and we want you to come live with us."
At first I'm ecstatic and then...a little less so. What about Leah?
She's my first friend, my first girlfriend; can I really just leave her behind? I was expecting to have to anyway. But I was assuming to not have a choice. Would I choose to leave, to go live with my sister?
I've wanted this for the longest time.
"Sammy," Lyla stutters suddenly, like she already anticipates me saying no and is trying to convince me otherwise. "I know I made a mistake sending you away," what? "But I was just laid off, I couldn't afford food on the table-and I- I miss you so much-"
"You..." My voice is horse, barely a whisper, but she still immediately falls silent. "Sent me away? You called them? You wanted to get ride of me?"
Lyla pales as my voice steadily rises, and my out-of-body feeling snaps into anger.
"I-I thought you knew..."
She's the reason? This whole time I've been blaming the government; they took me away, but Lyla sent me?
"You-y-you-you don't know what they did to me! You subjected me to that! What-what they did- they- how could you?!" I scream, leaping to my feet. She stands up as well, quickly.
"I'm so sorry-" her voice cracks and she reaches out to me.
She's- she's just like them. Doesn't want me so sends me away. Doesn't want me.
Well I don't want her.
She's suddenly too close, so I do the only thing I ever do when I feel threatened. I shove her.
She falls too easily; she wasn't expecting it, I've grown used to shoving werewolves, and she hits the ground hard.
I've never hit her before. I've never hurt her. But she never hurt me before- until she sent me away. Everything that I've been through, every beating, every rape- it's her fault.
"Get out!" I scream. "Get out, get out, get out! You don't know what they did!"
She stands slowly, crying, and reaches out for me again.
"Sammy-"
"No! Don't touch me! I hate you!"
She sobs, my sister, my conscience, and I turn and run to my room, pushing past Julia and Mrs. Fuller and Brady, who had come out of his room to see what all the yelling was for.
Lyla, the one in my head, is dead silent. Which is good because I hate her too.
My door slams and I lock it, sliding down to the floor, huffing and trying to catch my breath.
It feels like I've run a marathon and I'm still so angry.
I slam my fists into the floor and pain spikes all the way up to my elbow. I do it again, and again, and then leap to my feet, turn, and punch the wall.
The wall gives slightly; my knuckles split once more.
I punch again and again until there is a sizable hole and blood from both my knuckles are being left behind.
Only then do I cry, collapsing to the ground, because my hands hurt and my own sister didn't want to keep me.
She was the only one I was sure would want me.
I stuff my thumb in my mouth and it acts as a pacifier, muffling my cries.
I fall asleep there, head resting on my knees and tears stinging my bleeding knuckles as they drip onto them.
...
The sound of knocking drags me out of the grog of sleep. My eyes feel itchy, but when I go to rub them, my hands burn.
My sluggish mind takes in the swollen and bloody knuckles in confusion, before making a few connections. I'm too tired to feel self-pity, so I clamber to my feet and swing the door open without even thinking about who could be on the other side.
Leah gasps as soon as she sees me, and rushes forward to cup my cheeks. I can just imagine the tear stains on them.
"'M fine," I mumble, leaning into her touch.
Her sharp eyes immediately spot the new hole in my wall, and then dart down to my hands. They are shaky and painful every time a finger twitches. There is a constant stinging sensation that is both familiar and different.
"Oh, Sam," she sighs, carefully lifting my hands to kiss the palms.
She gently tugs me to the bathroom down the hall, kicking it closed behind her, and sits me on the toilet seat after flipping it down.
I feel like I'm young again, watching Lyla pull out rubbing alcohol from under the sink, and kneeling down in front of me, pushing my bangs out of my face and asking, "did you win?"
She never scolded me for fighting, just cleaned me up afterward and asked, 'did you win.'
My hands shake as Leah gently pours the antiseptic over the split skin, and then rubs some sort of goo over them.
When she's done, she lays both hands on my knees and looks up at me with the most earnest eyes I've ever seen. At least she wants me.
"Are you okay?"
In answer, I lean forward slightly and she meets me in a soft, lingering press of lips.
And I'm slightly more okay after that, especially when she gives me a goofy smile.
"Let's go on a date," she says, suddenly standing up and offering a hand.
"Alright," I shouldn't feel so happy right now, what with what happened a few hours ago, but Leah just has that effect on me.
I can't even remember how I could have been so angry at her the first day we met. I know she knocked me down, and spilt my own lunch on me, and then hit me in the head with a door, but...it's Leah.
I'm surprised when she walks me outside and Jacob's car is in the driveway.
"You planned this, didn't you?" I smile as she holds the passenger door open for me.
"I've been planning this the moment I knew I liked you. It's only now that I thought you might say yes."
I giggle to myself as she jogs around to the driver's side.
"So where are we going?"
"Well, I was actually thinking about going to Port Angelus. Have a late lunch, catch a movie, wander around, and then dinner. Is that okay?"
"That's great," I smile, making myself comfortable for the longer than normal drive.
It's a little later in the day than I'm normally woken up, so we get to a nice little cafe around one o'clock. It's nice in the fact that it's just not the one on the reservation. As you can guess, there aren't really any options to choose from on the small res.
"So when's your birthday?" Leah asks after she had eaten half the menu.
I'm slower in eating and only on the second end of my sandwich.
"July 14; when's yours?"
"Mine already past back in December. The third. Are you doing anything for your birthday? It's only a few weeks away."
I shake my head and take the time to finish swallowing.
"I never do anything for it, but I guess this year it'd be fun to spend it with you."
Her answering smile is blinding and I already know that, right then, she's starting to plan something. I can't wait to see what she comes up with.
"Are you finished?" She nods to my empty plate, and getting a confirmation, stands up to pay for it. Apparently that's something that you do when you date.
The movie she chooses for us is an action one, with an international spy trying to find out the terrorist plot before it happens. It's actually quite interesting.
The only part I didn't like was when he started to have sex with the foreign agent. It didn't make sense and it made me feel awkward. I didn't know what to do with myself so just stared down at my popcorn until it was over. They spent an uncomfortable amount of time on it.
Leah holds my hand the entire time, warming my entire body with how conscious and careful she is with my knuckles.
We do walk around for a bit, ducking into stores and looking at silly knickknacks and reading all the goofy cards in a hallmark store.
It's really fun, and it stuns me to look at a clock as see that it's dinnertime.
Leah takes me to a fancier restaurant than the cafe, one with dim lighting and impeccably dressed waiters.
The formalness of it is uncomfortable at first, until I look at my date and see her in even more tattered clothes than me, slumping in her usual unladylike way. So I relax and act like I always do, even if it is inappropriate for this type of restaurant.
Even as we are driving back home, I don't want the night to end, and neither does Leah, because she drops the car off at Jacob's and we walk down to the beach hand in hand.
"So what happened the other night?" Leah asks, caressing my bandaged knuckles with her thumb.
"I don't want to talk about it," I sigh. No, I don't want to think about it. I'm happier not thinking about it. I haven't been happy in years.
She doesn't want to let it go, and if it were me, I wouldn't either.
"You hurt yourself."
"I was angry."
"You were crying."
"I was sad too."
She pulls me to a stop, the grey ocean just a background noise to our conversation.
"Why were you sad?" I suddenly don't want her to know about my sister. Like, maybe if she somehow found out, she'd see that I'm not good to want after all. That my own sister didn't want me, so I must be bad to care for. "Brady said there was a lady at the house...that you started yelling at her..."
I look up at her, and my eyes suddenly burn again, like last night. "Please?" I ask.
She nods immediately, tugging me into a hug. "Okay."
And she doesn't push anymore.
A/N: So what do we think of Lyla? Is she sincere or a big plotting nitwit? You think Sam should forgive her?
~Silver~