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When I wakeseveral hours later, my head doesn’t hurt as badly, but my stomach’s growling. I shove off the bed and journey through the house. Sean is in the kitchen with a sandwich in his hand. His hair is ruffled up in every direction, he has bags under his eyes, and his skin is pale, almost green.
“Thanks for the party, but I’m going to grab some food and head home.”
“No problem, man.” He gives me a high-five before and stuffs the rest of his sandwich into his mouth.
I spin toward the door but before I can reach for the knob, he shouts, “Hey, Dane!”
“What?” I ask, turning around to face him.
“Alissa called,” he says around a mouthful of food.
“What did she want?”
He shrugs. “I don’t know. She just said to have you call her when you woke up.”
“Alright, thanks.” I head outside and jump into my car. I start the engine and head toward the pizza joint Alissa and I always go to.
With their lunch special in hand, I head back out to my car. Slipping behind the wheel, I take a bite of the delicious pizza that’s been teasing me since I walked into the restaurant.
Leaning my head back against the seat, I close my eyes and savor the pizza by chewing slowly.
“Hey,” Alissa says, causing me to jump.
“Hey. Sean said you called just as I was walking out of the door. I was going to call you when I got home. Did you need something?”
She shrugs and walks around to get into the passenger seat. She has dark circles under her eyes, and her already thin frame looks even more frail. She places her hands onto her lap and looks out the windshield.
My eyes fall to her hands and travel up her arms, which are covered in bruises.
“What the hell happened to your arms?” I ask, setting the pizza aside and picking up her bruised forearm.
She pulls it away. “I told you Ed would have a fit if he caught me out late.”
“Your foster dad did this to you?”
She doesn’t look at me, but she nods her head, confirming what I said.
I toss the small pizza box onto the center console and start the car.
“What are you doing?” She leans forward in her seat, holding on to the dash.
Gravel flying, I peel out of the parking lot and head in the direction of her house. “I’m going to teach that son of a bitch a lesson.”
“No, don’t!”
I don’t listen, I can’t. I’m blinded by rage and hate.
“Dane, you’ll only make it worse. Please stop!”
I don’t stop, not until I’m in front of her house. Once there, I throw the car in park and swing open my door.
She rushes around the car and puts her hands on my chest, tying to hold me back.
Then, I make a mistake. I look into her blue eyes and see all the fear and pain she holds in them.
My anger simmers down, and I stop trying to get by her.
