Juilliard or Else (12 page)

"I cut to help the pain that I carry. I know it's not the smartest way to deal with it, but it's the sting that comes with it. Instead of yelling at Stella, I hide in the bathroom with my razor blade and slowly cut on my wrists. My dad saw it first and threatened to put me in a mental hospital, so I started cutting where he couldn't see it."

Jade pulled up her black long-sleeved shirt until she was at the top of her shoulder where she struggled. At first I didn't see anything like on her wrist or the top of her arms but when she turned her body sideways and showed me the back of her arm above her elbow, small lined cuts were there, about ten rows of red lines.

Tears formed at the corners of my eyes and they slowly slipped down on my cheeks. I quickly wiped them away before Jade could see them. My heart broke for her, Jade was in pain like me and didn't know how to let it out without hurting anyone, but yet, it still would hurt everyone the longer we both held it in.

"I haven't done it though since I left. I don't know jack shit about making yourself throw up, but I know it's not healthy and I'm hypocritical in that department because I know what I do isn't healthy."

No, it wasn't.

Jade's words sliced and diced my heart as I listened to her. I couldn't explain the way I was feeling at this moment. Carol wasn't as bad as Stella but she sure was right up there, with her nastiness and step monster material.

Jade and I had another cigarette right before Rachel came out to the balcony. She sat down on Jade's arm rest and wrapped her arm around her shoulders then gave a kiss on top of Jade's head, in a loving sister way.

"Gabs, my mom is here," Rachel said while Jade tossed me her pack of cigarettes that I barely caught through my shaking fingers.

"Trust me, if you're going shopping with Rachel and her mom, you'll need them." Jade winked as Rachel playfully smacked her arm causing Jade to wince, but I only saw it.

"I thought we were going to meet her there?" I asked.

"She wanted to come get us instead," Rachel shrugged at me.

Passing our door man Michael with his very polite greeting of
Ladies
to us. I giggled like a school girl at him with a nod.

A silver Range Rover was parked out on the curb as we made our way outside the apartment building. The nice mid-September sun was beaming in warmth and the door of the parked car opened before Rachel and I even came close to it.

"AH! Rachel baby!"

A tall Barbie of a mother came rushing out of the car and contained Rachel in a very big hug, knocking Rachel off her feet and landing right on her butt with the Barbie on top of her. Michael came out in a flash, helping them up to their feet as they giggled to each other.

"My baby, I've missed you so much."

"Golly mom, I've been gone one night, chill out," Rachel joked.

The Barbie looked over at me with a warm smile and walked towards me. Her tight jeans and orange tube top so low, she almost could spill over if she jumped me as she did Rachel.

"You must be the ballerina Rachel told me all about. You could be a ballerina, you have that look." Her green eyes sparkled at me as she pulled me into a small hug.

"Nice to meet you Mrs. Dawson."

"Oh come on girlfriend, please call me, Trish."

"Okay, Trish."

"That a girl. Come on, let's shop."

And shop we did. Trish was a shopaholic, every store we went into she had to buy something, even if it was the smallest thing, and she had to buy it. We had to stop at the Range Rover four times because we couldn't carry all the shopping bags.

"Gabs, you
have
to buy this," I turned to see Rachel holding up a hanger with what looked like a tiny piece of fabric. The color was very pretty, in its dark deep purple color.

"Is is a top?"

"Yeah, try it on."

"No way," I shook my head, feeling my cheeks move.

Rachel didn't listen to me as she pushed me into a dressing room. I sat on the little seat in the corner and stared at the purple top, chewing on my bottom lip. Do I try it on? I debated back and forth with myself.

I groaned at my conscience and finally tried it on; I wasn't going to come out of the room though. Rachel would just have to wait until tonight. When I stepped out, Rachel whined at me for not coming out of the dressing room, I shrugged.

She held out another hanger at me, this one was a black mini skirt. "You'll need a bottom with that top." I snatched it out of her hand, knowing that she was right.

We shopped all day long, Rachel told Trish about the apartment and her school schedule and how excited she was to start Juilliard with me. I was ecstatic as well. Finally being in an actual ballet studio with other ballet dancers my age, gave me the chills and nerves started up in my stomach. I couldn't help myself but be nervous, I couldn't explain it. Rachel told her mom about the guys we met last night at the coffee shop and right when she was going to say something about Tucker, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I frowned to see it was Carol calling me.

"Excuse me," I said to Trish in the middle of Rachel's story.

"Hello."

"Abigail, you never emailed me a place and time." She used her Carol tone, the one that made sure you knew you did something very wrong and made you want to hide.

"Sorry, the time got away from me." I rolled my eyes at my little fib.

"Don't make excuses Abigail."

"I'm not," I snapped at her and Trish looked at me with worried eyes.

"Meet me at Café Tortella in twenty minutes before brunch is over." And she hung up the phone. Nothing pissed me off more than when Carol hung up on me. I angrily shoved my phone back in my pocket and stomped my feet back over to Trish and Rachel.

"I have to go meet Carol for lunch, Rach."

"Okay, you're done, right, Mom?"

"No, but we can drop you off."

Rachel rolled her green eyes and Trish copied her. They looked just alike when they both did that. The car pulled up to the Café and I already saw Carol had a table outside. Her perfect legs crossed in her crème colored pant suit. Her hair perfect as usual too.

"Thanks for the ride," I told Trish.

"You're welcome, doll and don't forget your bags." Trish handed me my bags of clothes I bought with the little number Rachel insisted I buy for tonight to meet Tucker.

I climbed out of the SUV to make my way towards Queen Bee. She didn't stand up as I approached her side. Her perfectly shaped manicured fingers were just laced together. I immediately started to shift from the heels of my feet to my toes. I know I got so nervous over the stupidest crap and it's one thing I hated about myself.

"Abigail, sit down."

I grumbled, "Give it a rest Carol."

"Abigail. Sit." Her tone was nothing but sharp and firm with me.

She knew she still had over some sort of power over me and I hated it. I tossed my bags over on the seat next to the one I plopped my butt into.

Carol slowly leaned forward, "Abigail, we need to discuss us."

I rolled my eyes at her, "Why?" I asked, crossing my legs under the table.

"Stop rolling your eyes at me. It's very unladylike. Your father and I agreed together, we wanted tell you about Shannon when the time was right. So far, the time has never been right. You had your practice for Juilliard auditions, your father is always working, and I was busy myself. It just never came up."

I asked myself, how you could leave behind a little detail about someone that they weren't your child. I slumped back into the metal chair and let Carol continue on.

"I loved your father while he was still married to Shannon. I had to respect his wishes that he wasn't going to leave her for me. I couldn't force him to leave her and I wasn't going to pressure him into it either. He made his choice and gladly walked away from me."

"How come you can't have children?"

Carol inhaled a breath at my words, hitting a soft spot.

"After your father left, I met another man who didn't treat me well, hit me, raped me, and used my parents for money to buy drugs. Then I got pregnant and my father forced me to get an abortion or he would cut me off from the family. He told me if I got the abortion, he would take me back in. So, I got the abortion but I bled too much afterwards because, it's not like now days where it's quick and easy. When your father and I got married, we tried to get pregnant, but I couldn't. A doctor told us I had a lot of scarring and it wasn't possible to carry my own child. I know because of the mistakes I made, I could never carry a child of my own."

I watch as Carol drops her head, her hand coming up to rub her forehead. I heard a sniff and saw her shoulders bounce as she silently cried. I was frozen in my seat; I couldn't move to go to her. I just sat and watched her cry. I'm sure any woman would be heartbroken to find out they couldn't carry a child. I know I would be.

"I didn't want you to turn out like I did and disobey us. I wanted to shelter you, protect you from all the evil that's out here in this world. I tried and it all fell apart the moment I laid my hand on you in the kitchen. I should have never had done that, and I apologize and I hope you can forgive me."

She tried to protect me. That statement replayed in my head, she tried to protect me. It was making sense, how could one protect a child and have that child live in fear of them?

We didn't say much to each other as we ordered and ate our food. I couldn't eat; I pushed my food around my plate like so many times before. I was still contemplating what Carol had to told me. She went off the deep end, was in a nasty relationship that didn't end well and had an abortion. Carol had a freaking abortion. I knew with what she told me that back then, you had to be very wealthy to get one done, and now some doctors will do it just because. I didn't have anything to say to her; I had to think about what all went down today. Carol paid for our lunch and I decided to walk home, to have time to think about Carol had told me. I knew my apartment wasn't too away from where Café Tortella was, only a couple of blocks at the most.

My shopping bags started to feel heavy the more I walked. I passed a cute little book store that caught my eye, so I retraced my steps and made my way inside the cozy little place. I looked at the rows and rows of books, from children's books to the romance covers. When I pulled a book from the shelf showing a guy with long hair and a woman's 1800's dress falling apart at the seams. A guy cleared his throat, as I gawked at the cover with my mouth hanging open.

"I call those books, bodice rippers."

His voice startled me as I quickly put the book back on the shelf, as if I just got caught stealing. More books fell around my feet as I dropped my shopping bags. During the messy process, I bent down to pick them all up as the stranger did the same for me.

"Thanks," I mumbled.

"You're welcome."

I smiled, remembering that certain voice that was imprinted in my brain.

Tucker

I looked up and met his blue eyes with a disheveled piece of hair in his eyes. He was wearing a black V-neck shirt and dirty ripped jeans across his knees. His smile was priceless, making his dimple show. We stayed crouched down just staring at one another. He was really so cute. He grabbed my hand to help me back up. I smiled and looked down at the ground.

"Hey Gabs."

"Hey Tucker," I glanced back up to him with a wide smile, "what are you doing here? Stalking me?" I playfully ask, my bad way of flirting.

"Actually, I saw you from across the street, came to say hey."

"Well, hey."

As nonchalantly as possible, I turn back to scan more books. I can still feel Tucker standing behind me. Nervousness filled my stomach as I looked around and he still wasn't moving. I pull out a couple of historical books and read the backs. Tucker was still standing there, motionless. I wonder what's going on in his mind as he watched my back, not speaking to me. I re-read the same lines over and over again on the back of the book, not grasping the meaning or the story line. I peeked over my shoulder to see Tucker just staring at me, watching over me as I decided on a book. I smiled and turn back.

My conscience screamed at me to do something, flirt, talk, smile at him. While I debated with myself, Tucker spoke.

"Are you coming to the club tonight?"

"Maybe," I tried to flirt with him setting the book back and picking up another to start fake scanning, "why, you want me to go?"

I softly hear footsteps come up behind me, his chest barely touching my back, light as a feather.

"I most definitely want you to be there." His knuckles brush my upper arms, and I catch my breath. My hands started to shake as I tried to hold the book up to pretend to read the back. But truth be told, my vision started to go blurry because I was staring too long in one spot, taking in the feel of his fingertips on my flesh, concentrating more on my breathing, trying so hard to even it out. But it wasn't working. How badly I wanted to lean against him.

His breath hot on my earlobe as it travels down the front of my neck causing me to shudder. Giving in at my body was wanting, leaned back onto his chest. I turned my head, our mouths a hair follicle away from each other.