REJECTS\\M.C.

-31-

-hannah-

"I'll text you when I can," I tell Mikey before he gives me a quick kiss at his locker, now our locker as I grab the books I need and replace the others.

"Love you!" He beams as he walks away with Calum to the Shop room to work on his extra credit piece; the coffee table for Ashton.

I smile as I watch him walk away and descend the stairs out of my view before I take a deep breath and walk home alone. My body feels cold without Mikey next to me and I realize how dependent, or at least reliant, I have become of his presence and love. Without him right now, I remember how dark and empty I felt. I'm still broken and confused, but with him I am happy and free. He makes me feel warm and, for the first time, worthy.

My dads car is in the driveway when I get home, reminding me I have to spend an evening with him and possibly others. I feel my body going numb already, receding into my mind as I wish I was someone else. As I wish I could call Mikey and have him whisk me away to his bed so I could hide under his soft blankets.

But I can't. I am still me. And I am, unfortunately, still Steven Wilcott's daughter.

I open my door and my stomach drops at the sight of a black dress laid out beautifully on my mattress. I stare at it as I approach my bed and then run my hand over the soft gorgeous velvet material. The numbness takes over as I place my backpack on my desk and then remove my clothes to slip into the dress. I find a pair of wedged heels in my closet and put those on before I fix my hair just before my dad comes to collect me.

We travel an hour out of town to the city and my dad leaves his car with the valet at a lavish hotel. He places his hand on my lower back and ushers me inside. I stay by his side and he guides us to the bar at the front of the gourmet restaurant, two familiar figures with their backs to us.

I take deep breaths to control my shaking lungs and tense body as my eyes begin to twitch, begging to weep. My jaw begins to ache as I clench it tight, getting a grip of my emotions as I let the storm whirl in. Grateful for its weight on my mind, I zone out, letting my dad grab my upper arm to pull me along.

"Jay!" My dad claps Mr. Edwards on the back, causing him to turn around, along with his son Blake.

I hang back and clasp my hands in front of me, hearing their exchange of greetings but not taking in their words. My eyes drift up to Blake, wondering how he can be here knowing what he knows. And hating him desperately for it. I hate him so much.

He laughs at something my father says before his face falls as he catches me staring at him. For what feels like the hundredth time I plead with him, only to be met with a loathing grimace and cold eyes. His lip curls in disgust before he looks away from me, abandoning me to my fate. I hate him.

"Hannah," my fathers voice barks and I jump. "Don't be rude. Aren't you going to say hello to Mr. Edwards?"

"Hello," I bow my head and look back at the ground.

"Hello, Darling," he says, but I keep my head down letting my eyes unfocus so I don't have to remember his features. "Shall we?"

He gestures into the restaurant and my father replaces his hand on my lower back, pushing me along to the table deep inside. I keep my head down, no one will look up at me. They never have before. And they won't now.

I sit between my father and Mr. Edwards at the round table, pulling the napkin into my lap so I can hold something in my sweating hands. My head begins to feel heavy and reach for the glass of water, knocking my empty wine glass over. Mr. Edwards grabs it, all three men laughing at my clumsiness before he places his large muggy hand on my shoulder.

He runs his hand down my back before removing it and I drink my water, gulping in a delicate manner to cool my body but to not appear out of sorts. My eyes connect to Blake's and he rolls them, looking away from me. I picture jumping across the table and wrapping my hands around his throat and screaming my hate out to him. How could he sit there? How can he watch so callously? He's just a monster, too.

"What will we be having tonight?" The waiter asks as he comes to our table.

"We'll all have the Veal Picatta," Mr. Edwards orders on our behalf and my stomach twists.

"I don't want to eat a baby cow," I mumble.

"You'll like it, Darling, don't you worry," he smiles while the other men laugh at my remark and he places his hand on my knee, his finger tips make swirls on my inner thigh.

I pick at my food, only eating the vegetables as my dad quietly berates me for being so rude. So I flood in the darkness, allowing my body to feel nothing as I take small bites of the soft meat. I ignore the fat that leaks out onto my tongue and swallow it knowing it will just come out later in the shower.

The meal concludes; a bittersweet moment as I become grateful for the waiter removing my plate but my stomach churns nonetheless; more arrangements to ensue. I keep my eyes down and unfocused, honing deeply on the numbness that currently controls my body and let it consume me. I let the darkness swallow me, grateful for this one mercy.

"Thank you for dinner, Jay," my father says as he tosses his napkin onto the table while we all stand.

"My pleasure," I can hear the smirk on Mr. Edwards' lips.

"Shall we get a brandy Blake?" My father gestures for Blake to lead the way back to the bar as Mr. Edwards puts his hand on the small of my back and leads me in the opposite direction towards the hotel elevators.