Chapter 23 Not the Plan

When I write this part, I'm not going to use my point of view. I honestly don't think I could. Because I don't remember it being me. Like it was happening to some other girl. A weak, powerless, desperate reflection of Cathryn Tarver. But not to me.

Let's see. A girl walks down her driveway, her mouth set in a firm, determined line. On the surface. But if you studied that mouth for a few seconds longer, you would have seen that it was also defensive. Scared. It's about seven o'clock in the morning, so the girl is walking slower than she usually does, yawning and wondering how far it is to her school and whether or not she would even go. She is seriously craving a capichino. She is also craving certain people. A few of them seemed larger than life, protective. Almost fatherly. A few of them wild and peppy to the point where it was annoying, but so disgustingly content with the world that the girl just had to laugh. And one quiet, confusing, impossible, even bigger than the fatherly ones, and…different, somehow. This person she wanted in a subtly different way. But she wasn't in the mood to think about that now.

Unfortunately, the only person that she did not want at the moment was currently driving by in one of the most horrible vehicles known to man. He stopped the car and got out, calling to her.

The girl turned around to face him, her face a mask of fury and disbelief. "What the-Dude. You hit me. We are, like, so far from drive-to-school-status right now, it isn't even funny."

The boy hunches his shoulders, looking properly abashed and almost sweet, like the mastermind he is. "I know," He murmurs quietly, soothingly. "And I want you to know how sorry I am about that. I can't even think. I honestly don't know how I could do something like that to you. Even if you are cheating, baby, I'll always love you."

The girl, instead of softening, touched by the boy's sincere words, just looks horrified. "You- stupid-Gah!" She sputters. "Do I care that you love me?"

"You should," The boy mumbles in the same seductive tone.

"Yeah? Well, I don't. We are through."

The boy looks up now, his face so full of agony that even the girl believes it, and she takes a step closer. "Pease don't do this," he whispers brokenly.

The girl squints at him for a moment, deliberating. Then, suddenly, she jerks away from him as if breaking some sort of spell. "You're crazy," She hisses. "You're a selfish, violent, insecure idiot, just like your father!"

The girl should not have said this. Even she realizes that. The boy advances on her, his own face now furious. His whole demeanor had changed so fast that it is bewildering. He slaps the girl, hard, across the face. She stumbles. He takes advantage of the moment and pushes her. She hits the ground hard, letting out a choked moan as she does so.

But the boy isn't finished. He kicks her roughly, so hard that she rolls over. He kicks her again. And again. The girl tries to get up, to curl up into a ball, to grab his foot, do o anything that would make the pain stop, but he is too fast. He doesn't stop kicking. "Take that back," He snarls.

"Fine! Fine." the girl gasps, desperate for some sort of relief.

He kicks her once more, this one the hardest of all. The girl squeezes her eyes shut, trying to keep the tears in her eyes from escaping.

The boy kneels down, crouching over her bruised form. "You leaving me, bitch?" He whispers.

Silence.

The boy stands, and takes his foot back, preparing for another kick. "No!" The girl says quickly, almost a yell. "No, I'm not leaving you."

The boy smiles sadistically and picks her up, cradling her against his chest. His mood has, once again, changed so abruptly that it is scary. "Look at you, baby." He whispers in her ear. "You're all beat up. You can't go to school like this. Let me take you back to my place."

These words seemed to trigger something within me, and my out-of-body-experience was over. Too bad. Now I had to feel the damage. And My God was it painful. My whole rib cage was throbbing, my knees were bleeding badly from having fallen. My jaw was hurting again. Had he kicked that, too?

But after a few disorienting seconds, I could think around the hurt. This guy was insane. What had I ever been thinking? Staying with a guy whose daddy taught him that it was okay to beat people up. I should have stopped that thing right then. I should have squirmed away from his hold and walked away, back home. I should have told my parents what was happening, and watched happily as Hart was sentenced to jail, or rehab, or whatever it was that the whack job needed. But that was what logical people did. And I, while having quite a few qualities, some of them even good, logic was not one of them. And Hart's arms were comfortable. All warm and soft. Almost like some one else's arms I'd been in fairly recently. But not quite.

So I leaned into him and let him strap me into his car and drive me to his house and nurture me and kiss me and tsk, tsk over my wounds, like some one else had given them to me. I was lazy. I didn't feel like being brave, or smart, or headstrong, or any of it. I just felt like existing. I was too tired to do anything more than that.

Chapter 24 Ashamed

They hadn't faded. It had been four days since Hart had beat me up, and the bruises weren't even beginning to yellow. I looked terrible. Every part of my body from my jaw to my shins had been painted black and blue by my darling boyfriend. I hadn't slept. How could I have, what with the searing pain every time I tried to so much as role over? And the stress had sent me off of my healthy kick. I was gaining my weight back, and quickly. Plus the sugar wasn't doing much for my complexion. I gazed critically at my reflection in the mirror. All of these things put together equaled fat girl with circles under her eyes and a zit on her chin wincing every time she poked her multi-colored rib cage.

Wonderful. Just wonderful.

And I couldn't stop it. Not any of it. If I tried to break things off with Hart, we'd have a repeat of what had happened that morning I'd skipped school. All I could do was hope that if I got ugly enough, he would dump me. But I had a feeling that he wouldn't. I had heard about guys like him. On the news and stuff. These people never quit. They never stopped. The girls that they were dating all ended up dead, or pregnant, or dumb and spineless and weak, with nothing but him to hold on to. I didn't want to end up like them. But what choice did I have?

I heard a knock on the door from downstairs. "I'll get it!" I yelled, and pulled my shirt back over my head, and yanked my jeans on, sucking in as I buttoned them. They didn't fit right any more. I took the steps two at a time, desperate for a distraction. It is a sad, sad story when you have nothing to do but examine yourself in the mirror when your boyfriend isn't around.

I threw open the door, and my jaw hit the floor.

Cocoa. She looked like herself this time, all decked in shredded jeans and t-shirt, lip ring and punked out hair. She rolled her heavily made-up eyes as she took in my expression. "Close your mouth." She told me. "You'll catch a fly."

I didn't close my mouth. It wasn't done being shocked yet.

"Well?" She asked me, raising a pierced eyebrow, "Are you gonna let me in?"

I closed my mouth. And the door. I leaned against it, breathing a sigh of relief. I'd rather be bored than have to deal with her.

"Who was that?" Lizzie asked me, peering over the top of the couch where she was watching Charm School.

"No one important." I muttered. I wasn't in the mood for a chat.

But Lizzie continued to stare at me, her brow furrowed in concentration. "Hey, are you okay?" Se asked suddenly.

"Yeah," I said, a little too defensively. "Why wouldn't I be?"

Lizzie bit her lip, deliberating. "It's just…look, no offence or anything, but you've gained a teensy bit of weight, and your nose has been shiny, and all of a sudden you're wearing make up, but on your jaw of all places, not where you need it. Not that you need it." She added quickly before continuing her quest to destroy my self esteem. "And you are in your room even more than usual, and I didn't think that was possible, but apparently I was wrong, and you, of all people are getting wrapped up in your boyfriend. And I haven't seen that hot creep of yours that saved your ass that one time in months, and I used to see you guys together almost every day, and-"

That was about were I stopped listening. I knew that my life was going down the drain, but I didn't need to hear my airhead of a sister noticing. I trudged up the stairs, and opened my door.

Only to wish that I had just left it closed.

Cocoa was there, lounging across my unmade bed, absentmindedly stroking my dog, listening to my ipod. Now, I like to think of myself as a fairly decent person. I mean, you know, I definitely have my issues, and the whole predicuce-against-werewolves-but-a-boyfriend-who-literally-kicks-me-when-I'm-already-down-is-just-fine thing didn't make me seem like a great person, but I do try. Most of the time. I mean, I go to church on Sundays. I don't steal. I've never made my mother cry. I haven't killed anybody. But a girl can only handle so much. I'd found out that mystical creatures existed. I'd been beat up by my boyfriend multiple times. I couldn't break up with him for fear of him doing much worse than punching. I'd become a friendless loser. I'd lost the few good looks that I had. And now a girl that I despised with every fiber of my being had broken into my room and was hanging out in it like she owned the place.

I like to think that after all that, I was justified in cracking.

I ran across the room and leapt onto the bed, scaring Papaya off of it. Then I proceeded to slap and kick Cocoa for all that I was worth, effectively relieving my frustrations. "HOW DARE YOU TAKE MY IPOD?! HOW DID YOU EVEN GET IN HERE?!" I screamed as I attacked. "I ALREADY HAVE ENOUGH TO DEAL WITHOUT-GOD!!! WHY CAN"T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE?!"

"Dude, chill," Cocoa mumbles, pushing me off her with ease. I had never been great with physical strength. Or anything physical, now that I think about it. "I'm not leaving. No matter what." She turns my ipod off. "So you can just get over it."

"What if I call the police?" I threatened. Not that I would ever do that. Or that I thought for a second that that would stop her. She didn't look like she was exactly a stranger to the law.

And I was right. "Ha," She snorted, "Been there, done that."

"Ugh," I moaned, rolling off the bed and putting my head in my hands in defeat. I was seriously beginning to stink at life. You know things are bad when you can't get a complete stranger to leave your room.

"You have killer taste in music, by the way." She added.

Killer? What the heck did that mean? "Is that good?" I asked her, not bothering to look up.

"Uh, yeah. The Veronicas rock."

Ahh, finally. Someone who understood.

"What song were you listening to?" I asked her, this time with interest.

"Forever. I was right at the good part, too. When they just play the guitar? And you went and ruined it by jumping on me."

I ignored that last part, instead choosing to ask her about other songs she liked. It turned out that we both adored the Red Jumpsuit Apparatus, the All American Rejects, Avril Lavigne, and Skye Sweetnam. But she was a Gwen Stephanie fan, while I was Lady GaGa all the way. Which lead to an hour long dissection of both artist's lyrics and arrangements until we were eventually forced to call it a draw. Also, she was more U2, and I liked Bruce Springstein. But we didn't even get into that one, as both of them were well known geniuses. We just didn't see the point. After awhile, we got off the topic of music and started talking about other things. It turned out that she was actually kind of fun to talk to. It was a huge relief for me to be able to dish it out to some one without worrying that they were going to smash my face in if I went too far.

But then I got lazy. I was whearing a T-shirt that was way too big for me, and I'd stretched out across the bed, causing one of the sleeves to fall off my shoulder. Revealing one of my battle scars. Which Cocoa noticed.

Just my luck, right?

"How did that happen?" Cocoa asked me. Suspicious, like she already knew the answer.

"Oh, that?" I tried to look surprised as I scrambled for an excuse. My eyes caught the window, where hail was falling angrily from the sky. How had Cocoa managed to get up here in that? Then I remembered that the streets had been iced over for the past couple of days. "Ice is never good for the uncoordinated." I was obviously the clumsy type, that shouldn't be too hard for her to believe.

That's what I thought, anyway. But Cocoa looked unconvinced.

Brrrriiiiiing! My cell phone.

"Get that." Cocoa commanded, examining her nails. "It's annoying."

I didn't like her tone. "No." I told her stubbornly. "Maybe I don't want to talk to the caller."

After a few more rings it stopped, and I lazily flipped it open to see who had called.

Hart. My palms started sweating. "Crap!" I whispered, fumbling with the buttons in my haste to call him back. I wasn't sure, having no personal experience, but I had heard that victims of an abusive relationship always answered their phone if they wanted to avoid a couple punches. I grimaced. I was a victim now. What had happened to me?

"I thought you didn't want to talk to anyone." Cocoa said coolly. Weird, but my haste to call Hart seemed to anger her. Good.

"Yeah," I said impatiently. "But that was my Boyfriend. He hates it when I don't answer."

At least, I was pretty sure her did. I tapped my fingers nervously, waiting for him to pick up.

"Okay,. I'm going to go then." Her voice was strangely subdued. "See ya later."

"Yeah, whatever. Maybe." I really didn't care at the moment.

Cocoa snorted, and headed for my balcony. Where the hail hadn't yet stopped. "You know you can use the front door." I told her.

"Yeah," Cocoa said dismissively as she lowered her self onto a branch on the tree outside my room. "But this is way more fun.

Fun? The girl was even more deranged than I was.

"Hello?" Hart's voice filled my ear. My heart stopped. He didn't sound happy.

"It's Cathryn," I whispered, bracing myself for the worst.

It came. I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth and took all the crap he gave me without ever saying a word back. I hadn't done that since…well, never. In pre school I'd stuck my tongue out at the teacher.

I didn't think about Cocoa again until later that night when I went outside to admire my car for the billionth time.

Only to find it gone.

Of course, I knew immediately that it was her who had taken it. The lust in her eyes when we'd talked about it….

"You realize you have five freakin awesome cars in your garage?"

"Yeah, I do. The Porsche is mine."

What had I been thinking? You don't tell a seventeen year old juvenile delinquent without a license that you've got a beautiful unused vehicle just downstairs! If the hail scratched the paint, she was a dead woman.

I waited in the garage for her to return. Yeah, I know. Who's to say that she was planning on taking it back? And you're right. I didn't know that she wasn't halfway to Canada at this point. But something told me that she wasn't. I mean, she was obviously a bitch, but…steal my car? She wasn't that mean.

And I was right.

She came driving up the driveway in my gorgeous car about half an hour after I noticed it was gone. While I was relieved that she wasn't a soulless monster who would take away the one good thing in my life at the moment, anger was still the dominant emotion when she got out.

"My God Cocoa!" I screeched. "Can't you keep your filthy hands off MY stuff?!"

"I could." Cocoa said calmly, closing the door. "If your stuff wasn't so cool."

"Get. Out." I told her through gritted teeth. "Don't come back."

For some reason, not being able to come here again upset her. My stuff wasn't that great. Of course, to somebody who was currently living on their friend's couch…I couldn't judge. "Whoa whoa whoa," She held her hands up the way criminals do when the police pull a gun on them in T.V. shows. "Lets not get hasty. I will, uh," She drew a deep breath, as though it caused her actual pain to say what came out of her mouth next. "try to make it up to you."

Yeah. That was gonna happen. "Ha!" I laughed humorlessly. "What are you going to do? Not break into my house? Not steal my car?"

And, yeah, I know that I may have been being hard on her, and she returned it and everything, but I was way past my limit here. I had used up all my patience on the phone with Hart.

Cocoa, however, had an answer ready. And she knew my weakness. "Free star bucks for a day."

Tempting. But a day? "A month." I demanded.

"Uh, no." She gave me a get-serious look. "A week. If I get to drive the car again."

I could deal with that. "Fine." I told her. "Well, I'll think about the car thing." I tacked on as an afterthought.

"Good." Cocoa said. "I'll be seeing you tomorrow then."

"Duh," I snorted. I wouldn't be wasting a single second of free coffee.