Chapter 24 â Not An Illusion
Our faces go straight to the door, slamming and swinging against the wall. A breathless and pallid Damien appears. My tiny little voice fights a battle against my constricting and dried up trachea at the sight of him. With Haynes on top of me, and I helplessly lying over the desk, all my strength and power used up to defend myself, I feel my tears bursting out. The sight of him becoming an instant joy doesn't happen all the time. But this time, it feels more than that. Just the sight of him gives me security.
In just a matter of a few seconds, after blinking my eyes multiple times to get rid of the tears, I see Haynes being dragged away by Damien, pulling the old man's collar and thrusting the latter toward the shelf. Books fall over Haynes as he collides with the furniture and eventually, plummets to the ground. With that kind of impact, I thought Haynes would have broken his hips and spine, but he didn't as he's able to rise to his feet and stand erect in a couple of seconds. However, he's limping, his one hand is on his side to support himself, and his foot is behind the other being helplessly dragged by force.
Feeling the ghost of Hayne's unwanted touch on me, I rub my palms against the skin of my arm, wishing the friction could alleviate the hair-raising current that flows in there.
Stomping his feet, his nose flaring with apparent anger, his veins on his forehead and neck slowly engorging and threatening to rupture, and his fingers curved as if ready to wring Hayne's pale neck, Damien approaches the man who's having a difficult time to move his legs. By the time his hands reach Haynes, he quickly hits him hard thrice in the face until the latter falls back on the floor with his face and stomach first.
Fresh blood spills out of his nose, soaking the collar of his shirt. The edge of his mouth starts to discolor from red to purple. Bruises all over his face make Haynes almost look like a convict on parole during French Revolution.
Damien grabs his stained collar and pulls Haynes up from his embarrassing fall. His teeth are grinding, and his eyes are sharp as a sword's blade. "I can get you fired, you animal!" he hisses.
"Etheridge..." Haynes utters, blood bubbling out of his mouth, makes a trail down to his cheeks. His limbs have lost its strength, and they fall helplessly beside his trunk. Damien's muscles on his arms bulge as he carries all of Haynes' weight.
"I was just..."
"You were just what!"
"I swear I didn't touch her!" pleading, Haynes cries.
Damien thrusts him back to the ground. His eyes are filled with resolute anger that anytime he loses his sanity he could murder the poor teacher. I should know if Haynes lost consciousness or if he's dead, but since there is quite an obvious rise and fall of his chest, I begin to think otherwise. He's far from doom, I guess.
"Angel..." Etheridge softly and gently trudges his way to me with both arms open, ready to receive the shaken me. But not even those strong arms can remedy this fear I feel. I know that he can't do anything this time.
My legs are still shaking, my eyes widened, and my hair at the back of neck rise in terror.
I wish Haynes is injured to the point of not being able to walk again so he couldn't mistreat others. It's not good to wish ill for others, but because of what he's done to me, he deserves more than just plain words. I wish it becomes true.
"Angel," Damien utters again. He pauses when I flinch away from him. Surprise is drawn on his face.
Yes, he did save me, but it cannot erase the fact that he's the instigator of this mess. Who would have known about that supposed one night stand other than him? If he didn't breathe a word about that bargain to Haynes, this wouldn't have happened. I cannot blame anyone but him. Damien is one damn good actor.
Not even the warm chicken broth and mac and cheese could ease the growing tension in the dining room. We're having dinner, and Mom and Dad's bright faces turned dull and gloomy after I've told them about graduation.
I told them about missing the research defense and Haynes new project with Etheridge save for the part where Haynes tried to sexually assault me. I also set aside the details about Damien constantly irking me, and most especially, the part where I made the greatest mistake of my life. My parents shouldn't know about that craziness. If they learn even a tiny part of it, I'm pretty sure I'll be more than damned.
The eerie silence makes my heart weary. I know I have severely disappointed them. And with the looks on their faces, I just know this won't pass quickly.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Mom asks, burying her face in her palms.
"I was afraid I'd disappoint you." I tell them it was my lack of motivation to work diligently on the research that caused me this fate. "I didn't want to worry you both... Dad, you of all people, when you were in your most critical condition."
"This is my fault," Dad whispers. "This is my fault."
Mom stands from her seat, walks to Dad's direction, and wraps her arms around him.
It can never be Dad's fault, I thought. My heart starts to bleed as I watch him control the tears from falling from his eyes. I know how much he is trying to fight frustration, and what pains me the most is to see him take all the blame for himself.
He continues, "I should have taken good care of myself. If none of these happened, Sarah, our daughter won't need those extra shifts at work. She wouldn't have to work day and night for me." His tears are no longer controllable, they freely escape his swollen eyes. "I am the head of the family. I am supposed to be the one providing you with everything." He turns to me. "It's my job to see you finish school. In that part, I fail greatly. I am useless. This is all my fault."
"Hush, George!" Mom lightly taps Dad's back, embracing him warmly. Her lips form a thin line. Even if she doesn't say anything, I know she, too, is suppressing tears.
"Mom, Dad..." I speak, "please don't be hard on yourselves. It's not your fault." Divulging the truth about Damien and the bargain slowly creeps at the tip of my tongue. One word about it, and I know I'd free them from the burden their inflicting onto themselves.
However, if I tell them, they'd worry more about me. In this situation, I can only perceive myself as the villain. I lie to them with the intention of not hurting them, yet I fail in that part. Even if I tell the truth, there's no guarantee my parents will be freed from the pain.
Just in what kind of a situation am I in?
Waiting for sleep to knock on my door, I toss myself on the bed and turn to my sides. It is very quiet, yet I doubt if my parents are asleep. After telling them about graduation, I don't think they could easily fall asleep. It's their daughter's future at stake here.
Before I went to my room, I saw Mom crying while washing the dishes. Dad was on the couch, resting his hand on his face, perhaps trying to figure out where he went wrong raising me. They didn't speak to me before I went upstairs. I have no idea what upsets them, the part where I lied to them about graduating this year or the truth that I won't be marching up the stage on graduation day?
I reach for my phone on the nightstand and quickly dial Marie's number.
"Hey, do you have someone to fill in your shift tonight?" I ask. Marie's a co-worker at Maxwell's.
"Thank, God, Angel! You're heaven sent!" I can hear her newborn crying through the speaker. "I've been calling Cid, but he's not answering the phone."
"Cid's on cram night," I reply dryly. Lucky Cid will be graduating this year.
"Is that so? No wonder he's been absent for two nights."
"I'll fill in the shift for you."
"Great! Thanks! You're doing my baby Marco a favor!"
I drop the call to an end.
I better do something productive tonight. I can't stand the silence in this place. My conscience is killing me for causing my parents great anxiety, and I think Ray's funny comments would be great for a diversion. But I don't think there's a need for him to know about the incident with Haynes. It's not worth telling about. That story is for me, Haynes, and Damien to keep and forget.
With a flushed face, Ray hurls his arms around me the moment I enter the cafeteria's utility room.
"Oh, God! I can't believe you did it!" he exclaims, tightening his embrace on me.
"Believe what?"
"Come on, Angel!" He loosens his embrace and leads me to the bench just beside the lockers. "Since when did you officially take me out of your life? Am I at the bottom of your priority list now?"
"What are you talking about, Ray?"
"I know you're humble, sweetie, but please stop pretending. This false modesty is not helping you. News travel like jet plane nowadays."
"I don't have an idea what you're talking about!" I raise an eyebrow at him.
"You don't really know? Didn't Damien tell you?"
Just by hearing his name, my blood surges, rising my attention to more than a hundred percent.
I shrug my head.
"It's on the bulletin board and the school paper already. You're graduating with Latin honors, and so does Damien! Though he's class valedictorian, can you ask more for getting second place?"
Wait! Hold on a second. I shake my head again in case I am hallucinating. Did I hear Ray right? Me... graduating with Latin honors? Last time I checked, I was crying in my room for disappointing my parents. Just how did this happen?
"Unfortunately, Haynes was sacked," Ray adds. "The administration quickly terminated him for unknown reasons. Rumors say that he was caught harassing a fourth-year student. Guess who caught Haynes?"
Damien.
"Damien!" Ray almost screams the name. "But the girl's identity remains a secret. I heard the school asked him to tell them who the girl is, but I don't know what went into his mind to choose that it be kept hidden. The girl must be in serious trauma. I think she needs counseling."
I gulp at the thought of people knowing it was me. What would they say when they learn it's me? I surely don't need counseling. What I need is complete discretion, and Damien didn't disappoint me there.
"Just how did I get listed for graduation rites?" I question, my voice shaking with absolute surprise.
"The school investigated your case with Haynes. I think Damien brought the case to the school heads and asked them to review your study. And if what I heard is right, the school is planning to put your work in publication next school year!"
"My work?"
"Actually, your work and Damien â the one about de Vere. They said it was unfair not to let you two graduate when your group thesis was exemplary. Can you believe it? I've got a friend who'll be published!" Extreme joy shows on his face. "And you won't believe this. You know Michael McLachlan?"
I nod. How can I forget Mike? He's Damien's friend who's caught me in the archives hiding behind the shelf listening to them.
"Damien hit him in the face at football practice this afternoon. He called it quits. They're no longer friends."
"What happened?" I feel my throat drying up.
"Don't really know the true story, but based on the accounts of the witnesses, they say Damien called it quits because Mike betrayed him," Ray answers. "Cheer up, dear Angel! You'll be graduating!"
But I can't seem to fake a smile. I wish I can so Ray won't suspect me of anything.
"And Damien told you all these?" I ask. I wonder if he came in the diner to look for me.
"No, I thought he'd be the one to tell you. Didn't he come to your house?"
I move my head from side to side.
No, he didn't.
"I thought he'd tell you." Ray's voice weakens as he sees me frown. "Looks like you're completely wrong about him."
"Ray, I've been a fool..."
As Ray sees me starting to cry, he moves closer and embraces me.
"I've been so unfair to him. I called him a douchebag, an ass, and all kinds of curse words. I've been blinded by prejudice but look what he's done for me. Oh, God, I feel terrible."
"I don't understand, Angel."
I am on the verge of telling him everything when the door opens and reveals Tony, the temporary chef for the night.
"Hey, Mohr, someone's asking for you at the counter."
I nearly fall off my seat when the first thing that strikes my mind upon hearing Tony was Damien. Who would want to see me at this time? Who would want to tell me the great news?
Goodness! I literally jump off my seat and hurry to the counter. Ray trails behind me, probably wondering what got me so excited. I can't even explain the rush I am feeling within me. I just know that I need and have to go to the counter and see him and maybe talk to him.
But it isn't Damien waiting for me there.
My jaw drop when I see Paul sitting on the swivel chair, wiping the rim of his beer glass with a tissue.
"What are you doing here?" I ask in a whisper, my eyes glancing on Ray who goes straight to the vending machine to take three cans of Coke for table six.
"Hello, Ms. Mohr!" he greets, smiling widely.
"I thought we have an agreement."
He sighs, squints his eyes as if gauging my reaction, and leans over the counter.
"Just a one-time event," I add.
"Very clever of you to instantly recognize my intentions, Ms. Mohr."
"You wouldn't come here for nothing, Paul."
I don't know what he needs from me.
"Hunter needs you again," he says plainly.