Every Little Thing

53

|| Reed ||

The movies don't show you how painful it is to punch someone.

My hand is throbbing and it feels as if I've broken every bone in my entire arm. I hold it under cold water, and the sound of the creaky faucet echoes throughout the empty locker room as I stand there, tears pricking the corners of my eyes.

"Dammit," I seethe, gritting my teeth through the pain as best I can. I can already feel a bruise beginning to form beneath the tender skin of my cheek, the only place that Greg was able to hit me.

I wish I hadn't done it. I promised myself that I would never treat anyone the way my dad treated me, and that's exactly what I've done.

Greg deserved it, whispers my conscious, but even still, I feel sick to my stomach at the mere thought of it. I'm supposed to break the cycle, not contribute to it.

I'm torn from my thoughts as the sound of footsteps rings in my ears. I shut the water off quickly and turn to face Evelyn, whose eyes are tear-filled and cheeks aflame. I feel something deep in my chest implode, but I don't do anything. I just stand there, looking at her.

"What the hell was that?" she asks, and it comes out a hoarse whisper.

"You shouldn't be in here," is all I can bring myself to say.

"I don't care," she responds, moving to me before I can stop her. Her fingers brush the skin beneath my eye, and pain prickles across my face. I flinch away and she bites her lip, eyes wide.

"How did you know?" she asks, and my stomach sinks; the guilt that has been gnawing at my insides for all this time intensifies like never before.

"I don't know what you mean," I say, but the lie is so blatant that she doesn't even attempt to believe me.

"Just tell me if you read my testimony or not," she breathes, and the detachment in her tone is enough to break me.

"I...yeah, I did." There's a long, uncomfortable silence. "I'm so sorry, Evelyn."

"No, you're not," she says, shutting her eyes for a split second before releasing a long breath. "You're not sorry, because if you were sorry, you would have stopped when I asked you to. You wouldn't have hit Greg. You would have walked away like the man I thought you were."

Words have never hurt more, and anger flares up in my chest like a firework, its fuse burning quickly and dying out in a flash.

"I was trying to protect you!" I say, and she looks at the floor, voice low and gravelly as she says,

"Bullshit, Reed. That's bullshit. You were trying to protect your pride; you were trying to show your dominance, like—like some kind of animal!"

My mind flounders for an excuse, trying to deny it, but there's no use because she's right and damn it, I hate it when she's right.

So I stand there in silence, realizing that I was stupid for thinking that the ache in my hand was painful. This is painful.

"I just need a break, okay?" she murmurs, and I swear to God, I can hear my heart drop to the bottom of my stomach. "I can't deal with this."

"Evelyn—" my fingers reach for the empty space between us, but she doesn't make a single move. She meets my eyes as a tear slips down her face.

"Thank you for taking care of me," she says, and the sincerity in the words makes everything feel that much more real. "Thank you for being there for me, and for getting a job, and for Scout. I can't thank you enough. But I need to go home, and you need to figure yourself out."