AGE EIGHTEEN
What are the signs of “almost” losing it, discarding the “lucky” badge, and galloping to the sun on a faulty unicorn?
For weeks, I’ve been hanging on the edge that separates sanity from its more destructive antonym. Maybe years.
Is it too late to sign up for therapy?
On second thought, Mum will probably disown me, so that’s not an option for…a lifetime.
Unless I do end up revolving around the sun on my unicorn, after all, and get roasted alive.
Do they have a therapist in hell?
I have no doubt that I’m heading there on the expressway considering all the voodoo I’ve been doing in my head.
Every single imaginary spell is directed at the girls who keep hanging on to Daniel’s arm as if it’s made of gold.
It’s not.
He’s just a manwhore, and I hate that and him, and every girl who gets to touch him when I can’t.
Jealous much?
No, it’s way worse. I’m bordering on extremely obsessive.
It’s unhealthy, toxic, and all the other terms my imaginary therapist will have a field day with.
I did my research and it said that the best way to get rid of an unhealthy obsession is to stay away, exercise, and keep my mind preoccupied.
Done, done, and done.
Now, best of luck telling that to my wet dreams about Daniel.
Ever since he expressed being disgusted with wanting me, he’s made it a point to flaunt all the girls in my face as if they were Prada bags.
I never gave him a reaction, always staring down my nose at him and his tool for the hour as if the dirt beneath my shoes was more precious than them.
I’m many things, but an emotional mess was never one of them. Always composed, always elegant.
Always…detached.
Sometimes, I stared at my doll and talked to it as if it were Papa. If his soul happens to be there, we’re all doomed.
But anyway, I asked Papa if I stopped being lucky, would Daniel have me?
The doll stared at me with its droopy eyes and remained silent. Which is my sign of a “no.”
But my faulty brain didn’t understand the concept. It doesn’t relate to words like “giving up” and “letting go.” It’s just not in me.
Maybe it’s because I usually got what I wanted, whether by working for it, asking for it, or manipulating my way to have it. It’s not arrogance, it’s pure determination.
Sometimes I wonder if I’m too fixated on Daniel because I can’t have him. But I did have him during the night of the fire, and it only made my emotions flare to a dangerous level.
I didn’t know it before, but turns out, I’m the type who correlates sexual and emotional intimacy together. They’re one, undivided entity.
Which is why everything he’s done afterward hurt more than I’ll ever admit.
One thing’s for certain, though. Daniel isn’t the only one who gets to play this “you mean nothing to me” game.
I got into his circle of friends and got close to the football players. Not only that, but I also allowed them to touch me and get handsy with me.
While he watched.
Daniel isn’t as good as I am at controlling his emotions. They usually spill like ink on paper and he glares or flares his nostrils.
The other day, Daniel saw me laughing with Chris on a mini date in the school’s garden. When we got back inside, Daniel waited for him to approach the classroom, then slammed the door as he was walking in, hitting him in the nose.
I didn’t believe the scene at the beginning. The way Daniel apologized and smiled was like he really didn’t mean to.
But as soon as Chris walked away, I saw the sly smirk on Daniel’s face.
Then, when Chris was watching football practice from the benches because the captain and team manager were punishing him, Daniel kicked the ball straight at him but pretended it was Ronan’s fault.
Before now, Daniel had no problems with Chris, so I knew it was because of me and how close I’m getting to him. He said something similar the night we first had sex.
Why did you take the drug? Was it so you and Christopher could have a good time?
I didn’t think much of it then, but the fact that he mentioned it a few times says something.
So I’m testing a theory.
If Daniel thinks I have a thing with Chris, maybe he’ll get his head out of his arse and accept me.
See me.
Make me visible again.
After I had that taste, it’s safe to say I’m utterly addicted.
For the first time, Daniel only looked at me. Not at Astrid, not at the girls who worship at his Casanova altar.
Me.
The fire that ate the property was a few degrees below the one that feasted on my heart.
Daniel liked me.
He liked spending time with me.
He helped me put on my clothes and dragged me out of danger first.
I don’t care that he blames all of that on being drugged. Or that he wants to erase that night with a red marker.
It’s already engraved in my heart and no natural force will be able to tamper with it.
It’s only a push.
All Daniel needs is a push to realize that he’s meant to be with me.
Not anyone else.
Me.
That’s why I invited Chris over. I heard Astrid talking to Daniel on the phone about meeting up here for some burgers at Alli’s. One of the few places where he actually eats without throwing up. He sometimes acts like a pig in front of Astrid and steals her food, then as soon as she’s out of sight, he vomits it all back up.
Maybe he’s trying to impress her.
Maybe he actually likes her and you’re just a side piece, Nicole.
I shush the demon on my shoulder as I put on a short white dress with peach-colored lace. Then I let my hair fall straight to my butt and do a kissy motion with my red lipstick.
It’s reserved for special occasions. Like making Daniel jealous.
I complete the outfit with my golden heels that make me look like a beautiful goddess. Or that’s what the girls say.
Chris shows up right on time, dressed in denim and expensive shoes. He’s the son of the Metropolitan Police’s deputy commissioner and is known to stir up more trouble than black magic.
He used to be friends with Levi, who’s pursuing my stepsister with the determination of a bull, but they kind of fell out of each other’s graces at the beginning of this year.
Rumor has it, Chris started following the wrong crowd, as in meth heads, and Levi hates druggies with the same passion he loves football.
Anyway, I’ve never seen Chris high. He’s good-looking with a strong bone structure and a buff build.
Not as good-looking as the boy from my happiest dreams and most forbidden fantasies.
I’m starting to think no one can measure up to Daniel in beauty, wit, or charm.
I’m biased, sue me.
“Come in.” I lead Chris to the pool house.
Mum and Uncle Henry are at a charity ball and will probably come home late.
Aside from some staff, the mansion is empty.
Well, I’m pretty sure I caught Astrid preparing to get out, probably with Daniel, but I’m one hundred and one percent sure that she’ll bring him back here later.
Good timing to burn Daniel with the fire he’s been melting me with.
“Do you want to drink something?” I motion at the mini-fridge in the corner of the room.
Chris throws his weight onto the sofa and pats the space beside him. “Would rather drink you.”
Eww. Someone call the cringe police.
I smile anyway and stroll to his side, holding a bottle of water.
My skin crawls as I sit beside him. I’ve only ever spent time with Chris at school or in crowded places. Something feels different now, otherworldly even.
I place the bottle on the table and pick up the remote control. “We can watch something.”
He clutches my hand. “You’re much better to look at than TV.”
Before I can comment, he dives in for a kiss. His lips feel like dry wood on mine, lifeless, and so wrong. At first, I’m stunned by the sudden attack, then I try to pull back.
The look in his eyes straight out brings out chills from the depths of my soul.
I stand up on shaky legs, maintaining my cheerful façade. “I…I remembered I have to do something. I’ll see you out—”
“Fuck that.” He clutches my arm and yanks me down on the sofa, all his pretty-boy smiles disappearing. “You’ve been cock-teasing me for weeks, Nicole. It’s time I get a taste of the cunt you’ve been taunting in my face.”
“No, let me go!” I try to shriek, but he clamps a heavy, strong hand on my mouth.
I thrash and manage to bite him.
“Fuck you, bitch!”
My mind is a frantic mess of emotions as I use his disorientation to run.
This was an awful mistake. One I’ll regret for the rest of my life.
But in order to do that, I have to run—
Chris grabs me by the ankle, but I kick him as hard as I can.
He’s bigger than me, though, stronger, and no amount of adrenaline can help me.
“Seems you chose violence, and I will deliver.” He crawls atop my frail, thrashing body and slaps me so hard, my head hits the ground with a thud.
My vision blackens out and white dots start forming in my head.
I think I have a…concussion.
What happens next is a blur of motions. I’m disoriented, and my body feels like it’s a different entity from mine.
The assault.
The violation.
The burning pain.
Sometimes, I think I’m lucky I don’t remember most of it.
I’m lucky I only remember lying on the ground after he’s done and thinking everything’s going to be all right.
I think I saw Astrid in the middle of it all, but I also saw Daniel coming to save me, so it was probably a play of my imagination.
I hope the blood that’s on my white dress is also a play of my imagination.
My body still feels like an alien entity as I crawl to the bathroom on my stomach. My nails break on the floor in my attempts to get there faster.
Or maybe they broke when I tried to scratch him. The stench of weed, cigarettes, and male musk clings to my skin, and I need it gone.
I also need the blood on my dress gone.
I need all of this gone.
It’s a compulsive reaction, a need to get rid of it all, which is why I crawl faster, break more nails and scrape my knees against the ground.
Once I’m in the shower, I strain to hit the water button.
Cold.
Like my soul.
I sit against the wall in my clothes and pull my knees to my chest.
I don’t cry, though. I don’t have the right to.
My eyes lift to the ceiling and I whisper, “Papa… Please take me with you.”
I spend hours under the spray of water until I think I’ll surely get pneumonia.
Then I scrub my body until it turns red and painful, but I still can’t get rid of his rotten smell.
Of the stench of cigarettes and weed.
No idea where I get the force to rip the bloodied white dress to pieces and change into a pair of jeans and a tank top, but I do.
I have to get out of here.
I have to forget.
My whole body shakes as I drive my car. I have to stop on the side of the road every five minutes to keep myself from hyperventilating.
But I don’t abandon my plan. I don’t turn around. I keep driving until I reach my destination.
Daniel’s house.
Or more like a mansion.
His family is loaded and since his father is somewhat eccentric—and a horrible parent to both Zach and Daniel—he designed the house in a peculiar way. From the outside, it seems like a dome donned with different geometric shapes of windows and doors.
As soon as I step out of the car, the heavens open, and heavy rain soaks me in a second.
I feel nothing, not the water and not my steps. I’m floating on air until I reach the gate.
Aunt Nora appears, holding an umbrella, and lets me in. She’s a short woman with dreamy gray eyes and a soft bone structure.
“Oh, dear. You’re soaked. Are you okay?”
I must look like an injured puppy caught in the rain, and while looking less than pristine would’ve bothered me on other days, it doesn’t now.
I don’t think it will ever again.
“I…I’m fine,” I breathe out, having trouble speaking past the lump that’s been in my throat for hours. “Is Daniel home?”
“Yes, I heard his car earlier. He’s probably in the guest house.”
The house that’s as far away from his parents as physically possible. I know that because he’s been telling Astrid that he’s going to move out as soon as he’s done with school.
“Can I go see him?”
“Sure…” I don’t wait for her to say anything as I storm past her.
“You should drive your car inside, Nicole,” she calls after me, but I don’t hear her.
I don’t even care about the car that I left unlocked on the side of the road.
My pulse roars in my ears as I walk, then jog, then break into a full sprint under the rain, letting it wash away the rotten stench that clings to my skin.
By the time I arrive in front of the pyramid-shaped guest house, I’m panting, my hair covers my eyes, and my clothes feel heavy sticking to my skin.
My fingers spasm as I hit the doorbell.
A few seconds later, a light comes on from the inside and the door opens.
I take my first real breath in hours the moment my eyes clash with Daniel’s.
He’s my safety. The person who always made me feel calm and happy and…me.
And maybe I went the wrong way to have him. Maybe I should’ve just told him that I like him and I’d wait until he liked me back.
I love you. I think I’ve loved you since we were kids. I know you think I’m a bitch, but that’s only because I don’t know how to express myself and I was taught to never show feelings. But I promise to change if you teach me how.
I open my mouth to say just that.
“Daniel, I—”
“What the fuck are you doing here?” There’s a slur in his speech, a troubled look on his face, and a dark gleam in his usually bright eyes.
They look gloomier than the gray sky and the pouring rain.
His fingers twitch and I’m not sure if it’s because he’s drunk or something else.
“I had to see you and tell you that—”
“You fucked Chris in your pool house? Astrid broke the news. Congrats and fuck off.”
“That’s not—”
He grabs a handful of my hair at the nape, stepping in the rain with me. His fingers are harsh, unforgiving, as he speaks so close to my lips, he’s almost kissing me. “I always knew you were a conniving, manipulative fucking bitch. Always. But I kept finding loopholes and conjuring excuses for you, kept thinking that maybe it’s your survival tactic after losing your father. I kept being drawn to you and seeing you and watching you, and it drove me fucking insane to even think of you as someone other than the bitch you were. And yet, I couldn’t help being attracted to you and wanting you more than my next breath. I’ve even abstained from fucking anyone else after that first night I had you.
“But now I realize it was all for nothing. The excuses, the twisted feelings, and my sappy thoughts that you’d change. Every. Fucking. Thing. You just like to toy with others, to manipulate them, then laugh in their fucking faces. Well, guess what, Nicole? I’m off that list, effective immediately. Don’t come near me, talk to me, or even look at me. I’ll pretend you don’t exist and erase the mistake of touching you from my head. From now on, you’re nothing.”
He releases me with a shove and I nearly fall to the ground. My tears mix with the rain and I don’t think he sees them. I don’t think he’s even seeing me right now.
But I crush my murdered pride and step toward him, my chin trembling. “D-Daniel…it’s not…not…what you think… Let me…”
“What’s going on…” a brunette peeks from behind Daniel in nothing but a bra and knickers.
Without sparing me a glance, Daniel grabs her by the throat and slams his lips to hers. His eyes meet mine as he drags her inside and slams the door in my face.
I crouch in the rain and let the tears I couldn’t shed earlier loose.
Everything is over.
And it hasn’t even started yet.
