Chapter Sixty-Six: "I Lost My Nipples Walking Down The Driveway."
I WOKE UP crying in the middle of the night.
Not because I had to leave, but because I had another night terror.
I didn't want to leave, but I knew I needed to and I needed a break from California no matter how bad I wanted to stay. I need time to recover from Taylor, recover from Landon, and recover in general.
Of course, I would have chosen a place where neither of them are, but I'm very limited on where I can go for the next seven months. After I return to California at the end of the school year, I'll be on probation for another year after that. As for Canada, I just need to remain out of trouble.
Though trouble isn't going to stop me from getting revenge on Annabelle and Stacy. Annabelle will be getting the same punishment when I'm in town, and though Stacy got her ass kicked, that's not going to stop me from getting payback on her as well. It will take a while to get my revenge on both parties, but it's guaranteed both will face consequencesâespecially since one left me with shitty vision.
I'm not playing games.
Yawning, I stretch out and glance down to see my bags packed and stored near my door. I frown.
I'm not going to be here for another half year, and I'm already missing it.
Shaking my head, I get out of bed, throw my hair in the messiest bun in existence, throw my glasses on, and get dressed. I throw on a black camisole with white sweats and a grey sweater. I'm exhausted from my zero hours of sleep last night, and I couldn't care less how I looked when I return. Honestly, I'm going to sleep the day awayâeven though I'll be back around six in the afternoon, it's not like I'm going straight back to school.
Making sure everything is turned off and not going to start a fire, after an hour I have everything of mine at the door and ready to go. Now all I have to do is wait for the cab I called not too long ago.
A knock on my door has me jumping up, grabbing my luggage and yanking it to the foyer. I furrow my eyebrows because most cabbies honk the horn, but ignore it because I really don't care. Plus, mine came early, which is surprising in this area.
My eyes widen.
"What are you doing here?" I ask in shock.
Taylor, out of breath, is stood at my door panting like a damn dog in the desert. He's in sweats and a muscle shirt, clearly woken up not too long ago or has just been out running. "I. . . I. . ." He breathe heavily.
"Breathe before you pass out." I tell him.
He takes a few moments to compose himself. "I came here to see you."
"Picked a bad time." I say in annoyance. "I'm on a schedule."
"I need to apologize." He frowns. "I shouldn't have flipped out on you at the diner, and I shouldn't have let you walk out. I let that happen once andâare you wearing glasses?" He questions in confusion, cutting his rant short.
I roll my eyes. "Yes."
"Why?" He frowns.
"I had chemicals blow up in my face. I'm partially sighted." I explain. "What were you saying?"
He stares at me for a while, especially my eyes because I've been frameless all my visit. "Why haven't I noticed before?"
"I wore my contacts."
More staring until he finally blinks and continues his rant. "Anyway, I let that happen once and I hated myself for it and I promise I won't let that happen againâI refuse."
"Taylor." I frown. "I don't have time for this, my flight leaves in two hours."
"Please hear me out, darling," he pleads, "I messed up, I know it now and I knew it then I was just being stubborn."
I shake my head. "You should have thought of that before, then." I mutter. "Should have told me a week ago."
"I know, I know. I messed up and I can't stress this enough, darling." He says guiltily. "I. . . please?"
I glance down at my phone in my hand and read the time. "Don't call me darling." I say stoically. Taylor looks hurt by my words, but currently I couldn't care less. He hurt my feelings a lot the other day at the café, and I'm not one for holding grudges, but he has on my end I'm not dropping it anytime soon. "I don't have time to talk! So please just go, alright? I have places I need to be."
I have less than an hour to get to the airport, and that's not including traffic and security checks.
"Taylor, I really gotta go." I frown. "I'd like to hear you out, know why you're suddenly this huge asshole, but I can't."
"Don't go." He whispers.
"I have to," I mumble, and suddenly I hear a loud honk. Taxi's here. I internally groan, thinking that this idiot couldn't have picked a better time, and rub my eyes from underneath my glasses. "Look, I need to go. You can call me though, okay? We can talk then. But Taylor, I can't. I can't stay and you know that."
He exhales in a long breath, his eyes shining with sadness and heartbreak. I can tell he wants to touch me, but hesitantly, he reaches out and wraps his arms around my waist, but keeps his distance. I accept.
"When will I see you again?" He whispers nervously.
"I don't know," I say honestly. I need to get my emotions figured out before I make a decision, and I have six months to get my mind made up. If Landon and I can fix things and we go strong when the end of the year comes, then I might stay. But if it doesn't, then I'll leave and move back to California. And whether Taylor is there or not, I don't care, because the smallest things he's done lately reveals how much of him has changed. And honestly, even if things didn't work out between Landon and I, I won't make ends meet with Taylor because I've recently discovered that he's changed too much to salvage anything we had before. It would be a relationship as strong as a piece of hair and I don't want to go back into the gutter if I'm honest. Life above the bottomless pit is still being discovered by myself and I plan to have it stick that way for a very long time.
Though right now, education is my top priority.
The cab honks again.
"Just give me a damn minute!" I scream at him. I growl out in annoyance and look up at Taylor. "I don't know." I repeat. "I'm not guaranteeing anything right now."
He gives a small, hopeful smile. "I just want you to know. . . I still love you."
My breath gets caught in my throat. You sonofabitch! You can't just drop that bomb on me when I'm heading to the airport to another country where I probably will never see you again! "I should go." I say softly.
"See you around." He sighs and pecks my cheek, but I redirect it and place a tender kiss on his lips instead. It's for his benefit, not mine.
I smile when I pull away. "See you."
I lock the door behind me and Taylor helps me put my luggage into the cab, and then holds the door open for me, closing it after I get in. I roll down the window.
"Call me when you land?"
"Have a nice life." I say. "Live your freedom while it lasts, Taylor."
He kisses my hand and I gesture for the cabbie to drive off. I sigh, leaning my head against the headrest and close my eyes.
One down, one to go.
***
Swooping my bag off the luggage carousel, I walk slowly towards the exit of the airport. I had transferred flights again, which I always hated because I'd rather just stay on a single plane the whole ride but our transit didn't do a direct flight so I needed to stop at Toronto Pearson International, to Thunder Bay. It's a busy airport, but it's definitely not as busy as Toronto was. We even had an hour and a quarter delay because of the weather, since they're still recovering from a huge snowstorm that was a result of a drastic cold front.
Exiting the warmth of the building, I rush towards a cab and throw all my luggage in the backseat with me. Breathing out heavily because I held my breath to prevent losing any heat, I rub my arms together frantically.
"Cold?" The cab driver asks, a light chuckle to his voice.
"Freezing." I correct in a chatter. "I'm not used to this weather."
He chuckles again. "Where to, Miss?"
After giving him my address, it takes about forty minutes to get back to residence and by then, I'm tired, exhausted physically, and freezing my small butt off.
Once at the house, I take a huge gulp and try to gather all my belongings in one trip. "I'd say you get used to it, but then I'd be lying." He jokes, and I laugh breathlessly with himâand not because of the cold. I really have no idea what to expect walking through those doors, but I know that the next little while isn't going to be smooth sailing at all for me.
Sprinting and nearly tripping over my feet the whole way to the house, alongside falling a few times into the foot-deep snow, I finally make it to the front porch and hear some shouting on the other side.
"âI knew it, you sick bastard!"
I frown, not knowing what's gone on. I'm not even on the porch yet! Taking the few steps, I tiptoe as quietly as my luggage will allow me and rudely eavesdrop.
"It wasn't planned, it just happened. This was the first time!"
It sounds like. . .
"Get out of my house!"
Ella.
Suddenly the front door swings open and I'm face-to-face with the secretary of the family business. I've gone above and beyond to stay clear of anything they do regarding the animals and the woman helping Thomas run it all, and I avoided talking to her strictly because she doesn't like me. I don't know why, I've never bothered asking her, but it doesn't matter to me. She's entitled to her own opinion and if she doesn't like me, too badâI think I'm amazing.
She jumps, nearly running into me and a gasp escapes her lips. "What're you doin' 'ere?"
I point to my luggage. "I could say the same thing."
"I. . . I had to stay late t'do some bookin's." She stammers. "'Scuse me."
"At midnight?" I question with raised eyebrows.
"Erm, like I said, lotsa bookin's." She hesitates.
I narrow my eyes at her. "Then whatcha doin'? Get outta here and go home."
Instead of coming up with a snarky reply like she would usually do, she gulps, nods, then scurries away to one of the garages to, I assume, retrieve her car.
Our little encounter seemed to have dazed me because I suddenly remember where I am, what I'm doing, and how freaking freezing it is outside.
I don't even get why I'm still frozen; I lost my nipples walking down the driveway and as soon as that happened, I expected everything to follow in suit.
Opening the door and dragging my stuff in, I shiver and melt into the instant warmth provided by the house.
Though some reason, I'm still cold.
The atmosphere is tense, cold like arctic ice and I feel like I don't belong. Two figures stand very close together at a harsh confrontation, and I assume that Ella and Thomas are fighting once again since Ella looks very mad, and Thomas looks annoyed and guilty.
What's happened?
They both tear their eyes from one another and look in my direction once they hear me close the front door.
"Brooklyn, darling!" She exclaims happily, suddenly losing her angry persona and fills her voice with cheers. "It's late! You were expected here hours ago, I just assumed you stayed another night and forgot to tell us. How are you?"
"No, we just had some delays due to weather, so we got held back a few hours." I explain.
"Oh, gosh, why didn't you say somethin'? I would've had someone pick you up!"
"I didn't want to burden," I admit. Truth is, I didn't want to confront anyone todayâwell, last night, I guess.
"Nonsense, the boys would have loved to pick you up from the airport."
"It doesn't matter, I'm here now. Is everything okay?"
"Okay?" She repeats, and glances at Thomas. I don't fail to miss the glare she's directed upon him from the corner of my eye. "Everything is good, hun. Everything is good."
It doesn't feel good, I think to myself.
I give her a small smile. "Okay." I then notice that the house is silent. "Where are the boys?"
"Older ones are out partying. Louis is in his room and Lucas is down." Thomas explains. His voice is hoarse, and he sounds stressed; he looks the part too. With a permanent crease deeply placed on his eyebrows and tired eyes, this man has had a hell of a day and I can't help but wonder what on earth happened during the time I was gone.
I nod silently. "Well it's late, and you two look tired. I'll be upstairs."
Ella nods and gives me a very tight hug. "It's great to have you back, Brooklyn."
"Gracias."
"De nada." She whispers, and I pull back, looking at her in bemusement. "I've been practicing." She explains with a shy smile, and a big one breaks on my face.
They're making an effort. They're actually making an effort to learn and accept me!
Okay, so maybe it's just Ella right now, but it's still a start. Landon already knew some Spanish when I met him, but the others I swore despised me: Louis was pro-English, Liam was a flirtatious asshat, Lucas was a sweetheart, and the adults, well, they were all over the place.
Now, however, none of those are the same. Lucas is even cuter than I ever expected, and the boy can roll his 'R's like a boss. Liam is still Liam, except he's accepting of me and my languageâsame goes for Louis. He is still a brat and we'll probably fight into oblivion, but I know, surely, that deep down he might actually care about me.
And Landon, well, he's still a sweetheart but he's McDouchey as of right now.
"Thank you." I say, biting my lip. "You have no idea how much this means to me, Ella."
"I know, dear." She smiles assuringly, squeezing me tighter. "Now go sleep, you've been up a while, I'm sure."
I nod, giving her a kiss on the cheek and waving at Thomas. He gives me a curt nod, clearly here but not here, and I frown once I pass them, wondering what's happening with this family.
***
Jolting upright, I'm awoken from a huge crash downstairs. I thank that it wasn't another dream. I've been having those way too often recently.
I blink rapidly, trying to focus through the darkness. I grab my glasses, and look over to read my clock.
1:56 a.m.
Disoriented, I listen carefully, trying to decipher if this is something I need to worry over. Surely not, otherwise Ella and Thomas would be up, and so far I've heard nothing, or any fighting.
I decide to check it out, because it wouldn't hurt to be safe and I could really use a glass of water anyway.
Tiptoeing downstairs, I manage to do it in silenceâsomething that is a rare occurrence for me because I'm Klutzillaâand hold my breath as I peek around the corner to see what the ruckus is about. It seemed that the closer I got to the main room, the louder the noise got and I find that utterly strange because Ella and Thomas' room is right down the hall. Perhaps their room is sound-proof?
I exhale in relief when I see that it's only two boys stumbling inside.
The twins struggle to hold one another up, and Liam cusses at Landon for letting him crash his hip into the corner of the table in the foyer, resulting in Liam to get shoved, which then makes the two drunken idiots fall over, crashing down in a knotted mess together.
I don't know where Lance is.
"Way to go, doofus!" One of them says. "What part of 'quiet' did you misinterpret?"
"You're the doofus who thought it was a good idea to do all those belly shots." The other retorts. "Get the fuck off me, Moonpie weighs less than you and she's a fat, full-grown heifer."
"Just shut up before you wake mom and dad up." The other hisses. "We'll be in huge goose poop."
A loud chortle escapes my lips and the boys freeze, shutting up and looking around.
I hush up immediately and turn on the main light, flooding the kitchen in brightness. "A little late for that, don't you think, boys?" I ask with raised eyebrows.
"Baby, how ya doin'?!" One twin screams and pushes the other off of him, rushing over to me and hugging me tightly.
I pat his back awkwardly, cringing at the strong smell of alcohol on his clothes. I glance at the other and see his eyes wide, unmoving, dead.
I look away.
There's no doubt in my mind that that's Landon. Huh, I never pegged him as a non-swearer while under the influence of alcohol. Especially saying something like 'goose poop.'
Liam pushes himself away from me. "How you are, Cupcake?" He slurs. "L.A. good, or bad?"
I chuckle. "L.A. was fine, Liam." I look at Landon again. "You should go to bedâboth y'all."
"Good idea!" Liam chirps. "Shit! I mean, shh," he pauses and places his fingers sloppily over my lips. "Can I tell you a secret?"
I cringe againâhis mouth reeks of tequila. Or is it absinthe? I don't know, I can't remember the last time I had either. Poor thing is going to suffer a world war when he wakes up. "Um. . . yeah, sure. Go ahead."
"You can't tell Brooklyn, okay? She might get mad." He says, gripping my shoulders and staring at me intensely so I understand. It's weird how his mind is so clouded, yet his gaze is strong and intimidating.
I sigh and go along with his game. "I promise."
"Brooklyn. . ." He trails off, blinking rapidly, thinking hard. "I love her."
My eyes widen and my mouth drops.
What. The. Hell.
No, no, no, no, noâ
He snaps his fingers in my face to grab my attention. "I mean, we all love her. Like a sister! She's a pain in the ass with Spanish this and English that, but she is kinda okay. She's cute, too, but my twin already called dibs and threatened us if we interfered. Don't tell her though!"
It takes everything in me not to laugh. "I won't."
"Well bye!" He sings and laughs as he heads towards the stairs. "Remember, don't tell Brooklyn!"
I give him a smile and watch him disappear. I then turn to Landon, who currently is looking sheepish. "You should go to bedâyour hangover is going to suck when you wake up." I tell him in a soft voice.
He's silent as he tries to get up from his scrambled position on the living room floor, and I sigh and walk over to help him get on his feet.
God forbid this boy has to get drunk to the point he can't even stand up properly.
I wrap his arm around my shoulder and help haul him up. He's got to be two hundred pounds easilyâall muscle. I struggle a bit to lift him up, but now I can actually thank prison for this because before I could barely even haul myself up doing chin-ups and I was just over one hundred pounds. Working out on a daily basis for the year and a half I was chambered up in Hell was put to great use; I worked in the kitchen a lot for my job and was often lifting several boxes at once. I could even lift a hundred and fifty pound woman when she managed to get herself knocked out by falling off one of the cupboard boards to reach a certain spice and ending up hitting her head on the counter on her way down.
Let me tell you, dead weight is much heavier than when they're conscious.
I needed to carry her out of the storage locker because everyone else was too shocked to do anything, and at that moment, there was a fight broken out in the cafeteria and guards were paying attention to that instead, apparently.
She was fine. She had a concussion that landed her in the infirmary for a couple days, but after that, she was as good as new.
"I can walk myself." Landon tells me in a barely audible slur.
I let go of him purposely, and the idiot nearly falls face-first into the couch. "No you can't."
He mumbles something incoherent and I drag him to the stairs.
Five minutes later, I drop him on his bed carelessly. He chose this for himself, and I'm still mad at him so I'm not going to nicely help him when he chose to drink himself to oblivion.
"Why are you doing this?" He asks me in a choked whisper. His voice is hoarse and. . . is he secretly blubbering?
"Doin' what?" I ask, placing my hands on my hips and looking at him expectantly. I'm not having a whole conversation with a drunk ex-boyfriend who woke me up because he got hammered.
"Helping me," he says. "I was so mean to you. . . and you just helped me stumble up the stairs pissed out of my mind."
"You woke me up, and I probably wouldn't get back to bed until one of you shut up." I explain.
But really, I was hoping to see him. I miss him, even with all that's happened recently.
"You were mad. And now you're being niceâ"
"The last thing you want is getting yelled at when you're drunk, Landon." I sigh. "And I'm still mad at you. I'm a girl; it's our nature to be good actresses when it comes to hiding our feelings."
"I'm sorry." He says after a few moments of silence.
"Tell me when you're sober." I say and walk out, closing his door quietly and walking back to bed.
Well, this has gone slightly better than I imagined. Now there's the aftermath of tonight tomorrow.
Wonderful.