A Twist in this Story pt. 2
Aspen
Aspen hadn't even noticed that she had been giving in to her temptations until Bryant had followed through. He pressed up his mouth against her parted lips. It was a gentle kiss, no force hidden behind it, no pressure hidden behind it either. And most importantly, no regret.
Even though she felt it was right her emotions were blocked by large steel walls, impenetrable, and restricting. She felt the urge to push away at an instant, but she knew that she didn't want to. She knew behind the walls she wanted to stay there with him. But if anyone knew that Bryant had kissed someone like her…
Aspen pulled back, breathing aloud. She immediately apologized, the words spilling through her mouth in a splattered stream. She tried to get up, but he held her hand down, unable to see her leave that way.
"Aspen don't apologize! Please just stay-"
"No I can't okay I can't!" She yanked her hand out of his and stormed off of the bleachers. She needed something to say, something to push him away. Being the amazing smooth Aspen, “I can’t” was the only thing she could come up with.
Bryant jumped off of his seat and caught up with her, "Look I'm sorry for being so forward but-" he lied. He wasn't he wasn't the least bit sorry for that. He was just completely desperate for something to say.
"That's not the issue here!" She stormed in the other direction. He grabbed her arm and pulled her back so she was facing him again. She was having trouble not catching his gaze.
Bryant towered above her, his voice harsh and stern. It was a side Aspen thought she would never see in such a positive guy like him.
"Then what is, Aspen? Why are you so resistant?"
He was standing above her, his breath like a gentle breeze through her hair .Aspen turned away from him, but every time she did she knew it was no use. She couldn't look at him like this; then again, she couldn’t leave him like this either. But all she could think of is how she wanted to stay with him .That’s probably why her feet wouldn’t move, as much as she tried to run.
Then, as if to answer her prayers, the bell rang.
Aspen looked back up to the football player, as she kept reminding herself that he was one, and was out of her league. “I have to go.” She said, as monotone and emotionless as her voice allowed her to be.
~~
Bryant
Bryant wasn’t one to quit on his emotions either. But he knew that he didn’t care about anything else besides getting Aspen to open up to him, and to see him for who he really was. But as the bell rang throughout the halls and its voice spread across the high school, he knew that his moment, his chance, was gone. At least for today.
Bryant exhaled as he looked down at the sand colored hair that marked the beautiful beach tanned girl standing below him. It was obvious she was beautiful, so why was she looked down upon?
Or why did she think she was looked down upon?
She wasn’t what she thought she was. She wasn’t an outcast, a wallflower. She was just behind a steel door and wouldn’t give anyone the key to release her. Regrettably Bryant broke out of Aspen’s gaze and stepped back. Aspen immediately longed for his steady breathing over her again.
He reached out for her arm, but she was already gone, sprinting to her next class.
~
He stepped onto the bus 5 minutes after the bell had rung freedom. He was so distracted that he almost missed the step onto the bus. Hey, at least he didn’t bang into the door before it could open.
As he sat down next to one of his football friends, he felt something brush by his left shoulder. He didn’t even have to look. He knew the freshman had thrown it, and knew he had some serious issues to. Not just with folding math worksheet airplanes. Bryant wasn’t dissing on him because he was a freshman. Just because he couldn’t leave Bryant alone. He had gotten pretty good at ignoring it though. Today he didn’t even get a comment out of Ricky. He walked off the bus without a word.
As Bryant took his turn stepping off the bus and toward the porch, his dad stepped out of the garage, wiped the grease off of his forehead and walked towards his son. Bryant enjoyed the times his dad was working on his car. It was one of the only times he could see his dad not fashioned for work. Like a large replica of himself, his dad was tan with black hair, which appeared brown against the hot sun. “Hey son. You got a minute to help out your dad?”
Bryant took a small step towards the door, “Yeah, I’m just gonna go and change and then I can-"
His father cut him off, “I mean it would be expected to you to work on your first car, right?”
Bryant blinked, as if he saw a pot of gold behind his father. Like a child he stood, unable to comprehend the words that came out of his dad’s mouth. Once his eyes regained focus, Bryant couldn’t think of anything else to do but clarify. “You mean..."
His dad laughed and smiled down at his son, eyes glistening.
“She’s yours.”
Bryant ran over to the beat up truck faster than ran to the posts at football practice. He ran his hand over the hood, catching a bit of grease on his fingers. His dad came up behind him and slapped him on the back, grease covering his hands. Bryant flung forward, and there goes my chances of skipping laundry today. He straightened, and his back cracked. Now he knew where he got his strength from.
After hours of car fixing and elbow grease, he finally came inside. His mother greeted him at the front door. Her arms were gently folded across her chest, “So, how was working on the car, hm?” Bryant smiled and bent over to hug his mom.
“All those hours and you couldn’t come in to say hello?” Blonde hair suited the small and thin woman well. Bryant had always known he got his height and strength from his dad, but he could never see his dad feeling anything but power and success.
That’s where his mom came in. Maybe his emotions towards Aspen came from his mom. Maybe he wouldn't even be into Apsen if it wasn’t for his mom. For that, he had to mentally thank her.
He wouldn’t tell her about Aspen. This was different. This was a more intense feeling, something that almost felt dangerous in his chest. He had to work through it on his own. Now that would be a challenge. But he would do it. He would do it for her.
For Aspen.
~
Aspen
Aspen finally got home, and ran straight for her room. She face planted onto her bed, sheets suffocating her, drowning her in a sea of regret. It gave her no choice but to come back up to breathe, and to show her unsettled and unconfident face to the world.
Unconfident, since when was Aspen unconfident at school? She felt like she had mastered that mask since 8th grade. Understanding confidence was what kept her from making stupid decisions.
Stupid decisions like kissing football players.
This was a condition. A mental illness. The illness of Instability. She hadn’t been prepared for anything like this at Beckett High. NO, she hadn’t been prepared for anything like Bryant. What was she supposed to do now?
“Hey Assface! Could you fucking make yourself useful and get me a beer!”
Oh, that’s what I’m supposed to do. The petrifying and utterly agitating screech of a voice echoed through her room. Weren’t moms supposed to be caring? Understanding? Most importantly, weren’t mom’s supposed to REMEMBER THEIR DAUGHTER’S NAMES?
No, she wasn’t her daughter. And she wasn’t her mom.
She slowly got up, “Coming!” She dragged her feet across her room to the hallway and finally to the kitchen fridge and grabbed a beer. She banged the cap on the counter’s edge and it popped off. Huh, I’m getting better at that.” She took it over to the table and set it down in front of her “mother.”
Really, she wasn’t her mother. She couldn’t have been. For all she knew her real mother could have died in child labor and her father could have remarried a couple years after. Of course, he had to die. The one person who knew her, cared for her, understood her, loved her. Just gone in the blink of an eye and the crash of a car. That was it. No goodbyes, no last words. Just hello, goodbye. And the locket was all she had left.
Amy, her mother, had her arms sprawled out on the wood table and grabbed for the beer. As if blind, she was feeling around for it along the table’s edge. Now that would’ve been completely fine. If she were blind. Which would’ve totally been fine for Aspen, to. Heck she would’ve enjoyed seeing her search for things, cursing her heart out because she “couldn’t find her glasses” which would be tucked away in Aspen’s room, or pocket.
“Aspen where the fuck is my beer!”
“It’s right in front of you-“
“Don’t you fucking talk back to me you bitch!” She swung at Aspen’s face, but missed by a couple inches. Aspen bolted, but Amy could hear the feet running away. “Get back here. We have things to talk about.” Aspen slowly made her way back to the kitchen, checking that her basic 6 foot boundary was in place between her and Amy. Amy grunted, “You’re stuff for Boston State just came in.”
Aspen’s eyes lit up. She had been waiting months for her transfer papers. A chance to get away was all she needed to live a normal, happy life. A life free of Amy. “Where is it! She turned to the counter, and spun in circles like a crazed dog chasing a squirrel.
Amy laughed as she finally found her beer, “You could look, but I’m not letting you go.” She took a sip of her intoxication bottle.
Aspen’s eyes went from lit up to on fire. “You have no choice. I’m almost eighteen.” She turned to the toaster counter behind her. Papers were tucked into the toaster. Huh. Typical of her.
She pulled them out and examined them. Maybe she forgot to pull the lever down. Again, typical of her. Amy tried to get up and take a stance of authority, which most authority would laugh at. “Give me those papers…” She extended her hand out, which was shaking like a seizure was about to strike. Oh, goodie.
Aspen stepped back, “No. I worked hard on these applications. Don’t you even care?” But Aspen had already answered that question in her head. Two words. Hell. No.
Amy laughed again, which turned into coughing. “Don’t you care about me you asswhole? I need someone to take care of me. You think I can handle this place on my own?! I’m a little out of shape these days.”
Aspen couldn’t resist, “Oh you’ve noticed!”
There was two seconds of pride and victory on Aspen’s face. Two seconds after those words came proudly out of her mouth.
Then, the bottle hit.
Glass scattered everywhere. Aspen lay speechless, spread out on the floor. She clenched the papers, unable to move, out of fear and unspeakable pain. Blood coated her shoulder and the back of her arm, where the bottle hit, and dripped down her back. Aspen screamed. There was nothing else she was able to do.
“Now give me those papers, or that scream will be the last thing that comes out of your fucking mouth.”
Aspen tried to think straight, but all she saw were curved lines and shadows. She tried to think of a plan, but all she could see was the door. And all she could think of, was running. As far away as she could. To escape the pain, to escape the “evil stepmother.” To her father’s treehouse even. Hey, that wasn’t a bad idea. She knew the way, and it was obvious that Amy didn’t. It was a hiding spot of utter secrecy and seclusion. And it’s not like Amy would follow her. She was too drunk to step out of the kitchen. Perfect.
~
The bleeding decreased the farther she ran. She had grabbed her backpack on the way out, which had her leftover lunch and hopefully her sweatshirt to tie around her arm to stop the bleeding. Because even if the blood flow was decreasing, it was still bleeding hard. To think maybe a driver would notice a crying, bleeding girl sprinting through the streets in the middle of the night. Yeah, that would’ve been helpful.
She finally made it to the treehouse, which was as hidden as the tree itself. Lost in a deserted tree park, it hadn’t been discovered by anyone but her and her father. It stood in the shadows like a shadow itself, one with the darkness, one with the trees surrounding it. As she came closer to the darkness she could see parts of its towering branches, its million leaves, resting from the pain the blazing sun had put them through. The darkness allowed the tree to stay as hidden as it always was, but in the darkness it was hidden in plain sight. But not to her. Never to her. Because if a place is a home, it is never hidden. You always know its location, you always come back to it. And it never leaves.
She stood under it, towering over her like Bryant once had. The tree gave her the same feeling as Bryant had, too. The freedom to relax. The air to breathe. The assurance of safety. She choked back a final sob and climbed up the tree.
She unlocked the door of the huge tree house and, with difficulty, climbed inside. She locked it tight, and covered herself with dusty quilts she had found lying around. And immediately, she passed out, exhausted and mentally drained.