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The dad’s head pops up at Treasure’s name. “Who are you?”
“Tank.” They don’t get my full name.
“Tank? What kind of name is that?” her father sneers.
“It’s what uncultured people name their children,” inserts Erika’s mom. “Child. Move out of the way. We are on our way to see our daughter. Besides, I’m certain this is a women’s only dorm, and unless you’re one of those people, you need to leave.”
“Dorm rules allow men to be here during the day,” a soft voice behind me says.
I crane my neck over my shoulder to see Erika creeping up behind me. Her small hand curls around a portion of my T-shirt as if it’s her lifeline.
“Erika? Come out from behind that Neanderthal. We need to talk,” her mom orders.
“Maybe we should go inside Erika’s room,” I suggest. The curious are poking their heads out of their own rooms and I can feel Erika shrinking against me. She hates attention, which is partly why she dances at night, by herself, where no one can watch.
“We will go inside Erika’s room, but you will stay out here,” the mom declares. She attempts to push me aside, but I’m big and she’s small like her daughter and so the shove doesn’t budge me. Flustered, the mom steps back. “Young man, if you don’t move, I will call the police.”
“We all go in or none of us go in.” I don’t want to have it out with her parents while half her dorm floor is watching, but I’m not letting Erika be alone with her parents. It’d be like taking my treasure to that frat house, shoving her inside and locking the door on my way out. I love her too much to subject her to that kind of abuse.
Mrs. Ainsworth grabs the phone from her husband’s hand and dials a number. The volume is loud enough for us all to hear “9-1-1. What is your emergency?”
“Mom!” Erika yelps. She flies forward and snatches the phone from her mom’s hand. “Wrong number. I’m sorry,” she cries into it.
“Erika Jordan Ainsworth, what do you think you’re doing?”
“What am I doing? The question is what areyoudoing?” Erika fires back. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes sparkle. The fear she wore earlier has been burned away by some righteous anger. “You seriously aren’t calling 9-1-1 because you can’t get into my dorm room, are you? Because that’s crazy.”
“Don’t talk to your mother like that,” scolds her dad.
“Give me your phone, Jed,” Erika’s mom demands. “I refuse to have a discussion about private things out in the open like this. It’s intolerable.”
“The police aren’t going to do anything because Tank’s not doing anything wrong.” She spins and grabs my hand. “Come on, Tank. Let’s go get something to eat. I’m really hungry.”
“Don’t you dare move one inch.” The mom steps up, stopping only inches from Erika’s nose. It’s an intimidation tactic—one that weaker boxers use in hopes that their out-of-the-ring bravado can spark fear in their opponents. “You may be 21, but your bills are paid by us. The clothes that you’re wearing are ones we paid for. The food you put in your mouth is provided by your father and me. You wouldn’t exist if it weren’t for me. I made you. So you do not get to ignore me. You never get to ignore me.”
The words are low, almost whispered, but I hear them as if the mom shouted them in my ear.
Erika shudders, but my brave girl doesn’t back down. “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me. And I’ve tried my very best to be the person you wanted me to be, but, no matter how hard I try, I’ll always disappoint you. I didn’t want to accept that truth before, but I know it now. If I keep striving to make you happy, I’ll never find my own joy.” She pauses and takes a deep, heaving breath. I squeeze her shoulder to let her know she is not alone. She reaches up to squeeze my hand. “I’m not ignoring you, Mom, but I am putting myself first. If that means you don’t pay for college, then I’ll get a job, but I’d rather be poor, eating noodles and wearing clothes from Goodwill than have to answer to you for the rest of my life.”
Erika releases my hand and goes over to her dad, who is shocked into silence. She kisses him softly on the cheek. “I love you,” she whispers. She tries to do the same to her mother, but the old bat backs up, out of the way.
Erika’s shoulders slump for a moment. I step forward and take her hand again. She gives me a grateful smile. “I’m ready.”
Gently, I push her mother to the side, making a path for Erika and me to leave. Tears are falling from my girl’s face, and any other time, I’d pick her up, but I get the sense she wants to walk out of here on her own two feet. Her mom’s been the bad boss Erika could never defeat and now that she has, she deserves to walk away from the battle on her own.
That said, if her parents ever come after her again, I’ll be the one wielding the sword. Erika won’t ever have to do it again.
CHAPTER18
ERIKA
I peek over at Tank,who is clearly still on edge as we walk toward his place. “Go ahead.” I nudge him with my elbow. He looks down at me. “Pick me up if—” My words are cut off as my feet leave the ground. I can’t help but laugh at how over the top and protective he is. I rest my head on his shoulder and wipe the remaining tears from my eyes with his shirt.
I’m a bag of mixed emotions—happy because I finally stood up to my parents, nervous because I’m not sure what the future holds for me, embarrassed that Tank has to witness what crappy people my parents could be, but most of all I’m grateful that Tank stood by my side through the entire debacle.
“Thanks,” I whisper into his shoulder. It comes out muffled, but I know he hears me, because he caresses my hair. Right now being this close to him is the only thing I need in my life. I don’t know what the future holds for me, but I know it will be with Tank. That much I’m sure of.
I rub my nose along his neck. The smell of him is calming, his big body is protective and I’ve never felt more loved than I do in this moment. I decide not to hide my emotions from him. I won’t be like my parents where everything is fake and surface. I want him to show me all of him, too.
