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and dark brown. God! And it crawled!
I shrieked when it moved and recognized it as a bloodsucking tick. It must have crawled on me when I was at the bleachers. I took off my light jacket and threw it to the floor. I hated ticks and to think it was so close to my hair, it could’ve gone to my scalp. I shuddered. I didn’t know why but ticks just freaked me out. I loved all animals, except ticks. They could rot in hell for all I cared.
When I looked at Devin he seemed to be staring at me, eyes dancing with delight.
“What?” I asked, looking myself over franticly. “Is there another one?”
He shook his head and swallowed.
“Layla!” My father snapped. Again his tone made me flinch. “Go up stairs and change!”
I looked down and shook my head. I’d had on blue jeans and a white tank top that just barely reached my pierced stomach. But I’d had my jacket on all day so no one could really see my complete outfit. Since my jacket had been removed I was basically baring it all in my father’s eyes.
I sighed and, after picking up my jacket, went up to my room. I tossed the jacket in the hamper and pulled an old black ACDC hoody over my top then went back to the kitchen.
“Happy?” I asked, taking a seat next to Devin.
My father nodded.
I figured my father wouldn’t be happy until Devin left…or died.
I’d pulled my hair from its tail and let if fall in messy waves around my face.
After we fixed our plates no one really said anything. I had gotten through most of my dinner when I couldn’t take any it more. I started to laugh.
The table eyed me and I explained.
“Why so serious?” You could cut the air with a butter knife. “I mean, am I missing something? Did someone die? Oh gosh, is it grandma?”
I knew my father hated his mother and would be glad if she died. It was why I’d said it, hopefully to get a rise out of him.
But he said nothing. No one said anything.
“Okay, back to silence then,” I said twirling my fork around a noodle.
Then Devin laughed. It wasn’t a loud laugh; it was more of a chuckle.
Then Rebecca chirped in.
Follower, I thought. I rolled my eyes which caused my father to give a little chuckle.
“That’s a start,” I said. “Now, what did you all do today?”
I didn’t normally ask so I could tell it shocked my parents when I did. They stopped laughing and stared at me as if I had gone insane.
“We have company.” I shrugged. “It’s called being polite.”
Rebecca nodded and began going on about her day.
Her voice was…unpleasant for lack of a better definition. No, wait. I could do better than that. It was annoying and almost nagging, like she hated what she did but didn’t have the gall to quit.
When she was done it was my father’s turn. I loved my father and could listen to his voice all day, every day. He’d been there my whole life, when my mother died, through my rough patch after. I loved him and always would.
Then Devin spoke and just as with my father I could listen to his voice all day long if I got the chance. I didn’t know why but my stomach was doing that fluttery thing again. To be honest I rather liked it.
I wanted to listen to him, honest, but when I looked his way my mind drifted. His kissable lips, his opaque eyes that I could get lost in, his black hair a messy disarray on top of his head. I wanted to run my hands through that hair.
When he smiled at me, my cheeks flushed as I realized I had been staring like an idiot. Not laughing along with my father and stepmother or contributing to what was possibly an engrossing story.
I turned my attention back to my dinner. My father was too busy laughing with Rebecca to notice my quickly changing cheeks but Devin had. I looked back at him and he seemed to be suddenly busying himself with his dinner, too.
My father and Rebecca were reminiscing about something they’d done when they’d first started dating. It made me a little sick to my stomach that he could stare at her like that when he used to gaze at my mother with those same loving eyes.
When he kissed her both my heart and stomach dropped. I knew they kissed, I’d seen it before. At breakfast, after dinner, when one would get home. But something about this kiss bothered me.
“Can I be excused?” I asked, voice small. I tried to ignore Devin’s questioning gaze.
They didn’t hear me or pretended not to. I rolled my eyes and left the table abruptly. I could hear my father ask what was wrong and Rebecca call me rude. Devin didn’t say anything at all.
I went to my room, closing the door behind me, and fell to my bed with a silent cry. I didn’t know why but I felt queasy. My eyes began to tear but were soaked into my multicolored comforter.
I laid there for a while, thinking about my mother. At that moment, I missed her more than anything.
I went to my dresser and moved the clothes in it to find the picture frame containing the one with my mother. Once I found it, I went back to my bed. She was beautiful and vibrant. I was told I looked like her but I didn’t really see the comparison. She was far more beautiful than I was. I even remembered her being more chipper, too. But that was just her personality. When she’d left I’d been traumatized. I couldn’t function properly; it was like my world was ending.
My father had been there to pick up the pieces, afraid to leave me alone for fear of what I’d do. But then, he married Rebecca and he lost himself in her. I hated her for taking him away from me, for trying to take my mother’s place.
I could hear my door try to open so I pushed my wet picture under my pillow and brought my face back to my blanket. I hadn’t realized I’d still been crying but my face was clinging to the fabric making it hard to breath. However, I hadn’t really doing a great job in the first place.
“You, uh, you okay?” My father asked kneeling by my bed.
“Yeah,” I said though never brought my head up.
“Can you look at me?” His hand rubbed my head.
I shook my head telling him no. “I’m fine, papa. Just…just go finish eating. I’ll be down in a minute.”
I heard him sigh then leave. I pushed myself up from the bed after a moment and gathered the courage to go back down there. I wiped my face and made my feet move, doing my best to plaster a small smile on my face.
I went to the kitchen and realized Devin had left. My dad was at the sink washing dishes. Normally that was my job so I stepped next to him and started drying them and putting the plates in the cupboard above my head.
This worked for a moment but soon it started to get tense again. I could sense he was about to ask me a question or talk about a subject I didn’t feel like discussing so I began to hum.
He recognized the tune and I looked up to see him smiling at me. Then he began to sing along with me.
He used to sing My Girl to me when I was smaller. It made me feel better.
I sang along with him and he bumped my hip with his. He took the plate from my hands, sitting it in the sink, and then we began to dance. I used to hop on his feet and he’d shuffle me around but I was too big for that now, so instead he spun me.
On the third spin I laughed aloud but stopped when I saw Devin standing in the doorway with Rebecca. They must have been in the bathrooms washing up.
I smiled sheepishly while my father laughed a bit. I looked up at his face and laughed a bit myself. He had one of those enjoyable laughs, like he was actually happy. I liked when he was happy. Which was one reason I hated Rebecca. He seemed so happy with her.
I looked back at Devin and Rebecca. He was smiling while my stepmother was trying. Her smile kept faltering. She’d seen pictures of my mother before my father took them down and knew she couldn’t compete. I was a splitting image of her and just as my father did, she saw her in me every day.
Me being me, I could’ve called her out for the fake wench she was but I kept silent.
My father still held my hand and he now brought me in for a great bear hug.
“Thanks papa,” I whispered once he released me.
He nodded and placed a kiss on the top of my head.
“Beautiful,” Devin said. “You have to let me paint you.”
I smiled and nearly nodded had it not been for my father’s strong “no” shutting me down. My smile dimmed.
“What do you mean no?” I asked stepping away from him. “It’s just a picture.”
“It’s alright I didn’t-”
“Hell no,” my father said cutting Devin off. His posture was stiff like his words. “Next he’ll be asking you to pose naked.”
“That’s not what-”
“Oh, please.” Now I cut Devin off. “It’s a picture dad, with the both of us.”
“I said no, Layla. And that’s final.”
I was silent.
Devin broke the tight silence. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to impose. I just-I don’t know. I love to paint. And I figured…”
Rebecca and I nodded but my father crossed his arms. I knew if he could he’d set Devin on fire with the hole he was burning into him.
“I think it’s time for you to go,” Rebecca said giving a weak laugh. This too was fake.
“I think you’d be right,” Devin said.
I brought my eyes to my fathers. “What do you have against him?”
“Alright, time to go,” Rebecca said quickly escorting Devin to the door.
“Oh, nothing!” My father said sarcastically.
“Yeah, that’s real mature.” I placed my hands on my hips. “He’s Rebecca’s friend and we are only being friendly.”
“Yeah, he’s a little too friendly with you if you ask me.”
“Why do you do this with every boy I talk to?” I asked angrily.
“He’s not a boy, Layla! He’s a grown ass man!” He shouted.
“Yes, he is, so why are you freaking out about this?”
“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”
“Well, what do you want me to do? I can’t stop seeing him because he’s my teacher, papa.”
“Yeah, don’t remind me.”
“God, you’re such an ass.” I mumbled.
“Layla!” Rebecca screeched. I turned around to see her behind me. “Go to your room!”
“You’re not my mother, you fake bitch. You don’t get to tell me what to do.”
Before I could react, her palm snaked out and connected with my face. I inhaled as the pain registered.
I turned to my father who looked shocked as bat poop at the fact she’d just hit me. His face changed quickly back to anger.
“Go to your room,” he said crossing his arms and shaking his head.
I stared at him in complete astonishment. She had just hit me and he did nothing about it.
“I hate you.” I whispered fiercely.
I had never said that to him before
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