Nixon

••• Sixteen •••

"You're an angel," I tell Oliver as Taylor stands by my side, her ankle bandaged up as we stand by my car. "If you ever need a favor-

"It's fine, Lily, just go home and get some sleep," Oliver interrupts.

Only an hour ago did Nixon wake me up to let me know Oliver had Taylor and helped with her ankle.

Waving goodbye, I help Taylor to the car, wondering how to explain this to our parents as I have no doubt they will be pissed. I had texted my mom after readying some texts, telling her I had fallen asleep and Taylor and I were both at Emily's for the night, a girls night and I had just forgotten to tell.
Once at the front door, I've composed a story with Taylor, knocking once only for the door to swing open. "Tell me you're joking?!"

Her lips form a firm line, her eyes glaring down at us as we stand on the porch. "What the hell happened to Taylor's ankle?!"

"Mom, chill out!" Taylor snaps.
"Taylor was playing a small game with Emily in some socks and she slipped and fell."

She doesn't believe me. She doesn't trust me. "Then why the hell is Emily not wearing socks or normal shoes"
My eyes fall down to Emily's shoes.
I had brought with me from Nixon's house some clothes from my stash there. She's wearing flip flops.

"Mom, we were at Emily's," Taylor replies, pushing her way through the front door and I find myself facing my mother on my own.

Just as I'm about to follow behind my sister, mom steps before me, calling my father.

What the hell is going on?

"You're in deep trouble young lady."
I'm freaking out how as my father walls to the door, opening it wide, telling me to meet them in the kitchen.

My shaking legs carry me to the breakfast bar, my parents following in pursuit. What did they discover? What is this all about? Grades? No, they're not like that. Taking a seat, I watch my mother sit at the kitchen table, my father standing beside her as their eyes are locked on me. "What's going on?"

"Jail."

Shit.

I'm pale.

I can't lie, this one is a truth, this time there's no hiding.

Crossing my legs, I lean back and wonder where this will only end. "How?"

"You weren't even going to tell us? Why am I not surprised," mom begins, "not only are you hardly home, but it's clear that why you were in jail is only your own fault."

It is my own fault, I got myself stuck in the situation. "I went to a party. They didn't take it as a crime because I didn't have a drink, they just took me down to the station," I explain, watching my parent's only grown more.

"We are not mad at that. We are proud you were not drinking, but we are beyond mad that someone signed you out."

"No one signed me out."

Half a lie, Nixon never put down a signature for me, he simply took me out and the police woman only allowed it. "You can go and ask, I never had anyone sign me out."

They don't change their glares as my father takes in a deep breath and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I met someone once at a dinner party, a male and now, hours later, I get a text showing me a picture of my daughter leaving the police station in the arms of a man way older than her."

Who the hell...

They've found out about Nixon, about the man whose had me countless nights in his house and bed, countless times over as I play on the piano. The piano. "Tell me, Lily, how long?" Mom questions, knowing that I can no longer hide the secrets. "We're you eighteen yet?"

If I say no, they will most likely press charges, asking me about the topic of sexual intercourse. If yes, they have nothing to press charges on, for I was legal. But I was seventeen, even seventeen when we started the sin of a relationship.

"I was eighteen."

The room is silent.

"I'm telling the truth."

This time, they believe me.

"Did you have sex?"

My father's voice shakes the very still I sit upon. Not like Nixon's, not literally shaking the chair as I feel complete fear, but enough to know I'm in deep shit. "Yes."

Mother leaves, not caring as her chair falls to the floor, slamming a door behind her as I flinch. I have no doubt she won't talk to me for hours. Looking back to my father, I see only disappointment. "I don't want to see you ever around that bastard around, not want you there anymore. Do you hear me, Lily?"

Nixon will be pissed. Nixon will only want to get his way even more now. "I hear you, dad."

Sighing, I look up at the blank ceiling, wondering how to go about the rest of my day. Car keys taken from me, curfew added to an earlier time, and a strict eye kept upon me. The only question that really lingers is who sent the message, who texted my parents, for they surly wanted me to be in deep shit.

It couldn't be the man I had talked to, the man who told me things that made me question my relationship with Nixon.

My phone rings.

I've never seen the number before.

"Hello?"

"Lily."

Nixon, he's never called or texted, not even nothing for my number. "I assu-
"I got word from Emily about this."
I had told Emily fifteen minutes after the argument downstairs, telling her all the things that they said, only for her to say she could do something to help. I had no idea that she would text or tell Nixon. "And I've-

"I have to stop lying to everyone!" I cry out, a loud sob escaping my lips. "I've lied to so many people I've loved and respect, Nixon. I've got to call this quits."

Do I really mean that? Am I serious? I never thought of it till no. To end a relationship I've become addicted to.

"I have to end this."

"You will not," Nixon growls on the other end. "You will not leave, you can't end this, Lily, you're too far in now, you've gotten a taste of how good hell can be and that you're an addict."

I frown. "I have to end it," I sob, hanging up on Nixon as I only know he will be outraged.

Throwing my phone across the wall, I let it fall to the floor as I burry my face in a pillow.

It's only been three months and now it's been canceled, something I still want has been ended. Yet, at the same time, I know it won't, I know no matter what he will be back, and angrier than ever.

Pulling out a small box from my bedside stand, I run my fingers over the velvet material, opening it as I see the beautiful ring Nixon gave me for Christmas. Another sob escapes my mouth as I slide it upon my finger, loving the way light reflects off upon it. Rolling onto my stomach, I decide to just read a book as the minutes pass bye into hours.

As the day turns to night and the moon rises into the night, I faintly hear the howl of a wolf, one that sends shivers through my body.

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