All the Little Truths (English Prep 3)

Eric’s voice was low, too. “What happened to you that was so bad you didn’t even want me on your side? Huh? It wasn’t the rape. Something else happened.” He shook his head, both of his hands now cupping my face. His need to fulfill this gaping hole of lingering confusion went deep. I could see it behind his eyes. He wanted me to let him in. “Tell me what made you like this. Tell me why you made me hate you. Why you made everyone hate you.”

The moment was right there.

The words on the very tip on my tongue.

My lips parted as my stomach rolled.

My breathing quickened as Eric’s finger laid over the pulse point in my neck. He had to have sensed my rising anxiety.

It all came down to one single moment that had me pushing him away, along with everyone else. I could tell him. I could tell him the truth. I could tell him about my dad. I could trust him.

Headlights caught my eye from the side, and as soon as Eric and I saw his mom pulling into the drive, we both immediately stepped apart. The distance between us broke the moment, the night air whooshing in and slicing it in half. I wrapped my arms around my torso and took a deep breath.

“Hey, you two!” Eric’s mom stepped out of her SUV in her blue scrubs and with a tired face, giving us both a warm smile. “Eric. Why is your shirt off? It’s not that warm out.”

I snuck a glance at him as he bent down to snatch his shirt from the ground. He pulled it over his head in one quick movement before giving me an unreadable look.

“Madeline, would you like to join us for dinner? I can order pizza. I didn’t know you’d be home tonight, hun.” She directed her last sentence at Eric. “You’re usually out on the weekends.”

“You know, that’s okay,” I said as I started stepping backwards. I didn’t stop until I got all the way to my front steps. “I’m feeling tired. Thank you for inviting me, though.” I quickly smiled before rushing up to my porch and shutting the door behind me. I slid down to my butt the second I was alone and banged my hand against my head.

What are you doing, Madeline?!

Being around Eric was a dangerous thing.

How stupid would I have been to put my trust in a boy who swore he hated me?

The next day went painfully slow, and the number of times I’d checked my phone to see if Eric had texted me was downright embarrassing. When did I become this needy girl who was all caught up in a guy? I almost gagged at the thought. But it was Eric. He snuck in my head and made me question every ounce of strength I had left.

I’d already given myself a talk as I lay in my bed all night long, getting minimal amounts of sleep—although, a little more now that I felt like Eric was watching out for me—about how to avoid the lingering question that he kept throwing my way.

He wanted to know why. He was starting to dig. The hate that laid between us seemed to be slowly dissipating at times.

I knew it was in my best interest to avoid him, but tell that to the desperate girl inside of me who forced me into putting on my best leggings and light-blue sweater that I knew looked great with my eyes, just in case I saw him tonight. I even graced my lips with cherry lip gloss and did my hair.

Absolutely pathetic and completely desperate.

“Madeline?”

My head turned toward my bedroom door as my mom called out. She walked in and glanced around the room for a moment before finding me at my desk.

“I’m going out, not sure when I’ll be home.” Same story. Different night. “What are you up to tonight?”

I sat back in my computer chair, closing my book. What was I up to? Staring at Eric’s house like the desperate loser that I now was. Will probably stalk social media and feel that tiny bit of resentment over the fact that everyone is having fun except for me. “Not sure,” I answered instead. “I’ll probably go out with friends.”

She smiled, pushing her glossy hair—same exact shade as mine—behind her shoulder. “Okay, then. Be careful.”

She went to turn around, but I stopped her. “I thought you said Dad was coming home soon.”

My mom paused with her back turned toward me. Her short red dress barely hit mid-thigh. “You know how it is. He comes home when he feels like it.”

And we mustn’t question it. The words were up in the air, like an unspoken sin we both hated so much but couldn’t seem to avoid. Except, something was stirring inside of me. It wasn’t anger. Not even resentment.

“Why?”

Her cheeks flinched as she turned around. “Why what?”

I swallowed, pulling my knees up to my chin before gaining courage. “Why are you still with him, Mom? You are so much more than just a pretty housewife. You could get a job; we could move away. Just you and me.”