A Step to Love
The Plan
“Nothing,” I lied. I disliked lying, especially to Brit, but there was no other way around. Her chocolate brown eyes stared in disbelief. “Besides,” I added rolling my eyes. “I told you not to ask.”
“Yeah,” she muttered annoyed. “That was before I noticed your face.”
“What about it?” Panicked entered my system.
“Lilly, you have a huge purple mark the side my middle finger on your face.” I stared down at her hand. Her finger was pretty big.
I sighed. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing!” she repeated as she threw her hands in the air. “I’ll show you nothing.” She started rummaging in her backpack while muttering some inaudible things. When she found what she was looking for, she took it out and placed it on my hand. It was mirror. I rolled my eyes again and took a look at myself.
Woah, I thought to myself. The bruise was there. I thought make-up would work, but somehow my bruise was visible. Last time I’d checked it wasn’t like that. My face wasn’t like that.
I started cursing mentally every word I could and then felt eyes on me. I looked up to see—Brit raising an eyebrow at me. “Explain now and do not lie to me!”
“Dude, hush!” I said impatiently. “Someone could hear you.”
She didn’t respond. She just stared—more like glared—at me, waiting for an honest answer.
There was no point in lying. Sooner or later she was going to guess something. I definitely knew from the beginning that make-up could not be trusted.
I took one deep breath and analyzed my thoughts before opening my mouth. “Well…,” I started after looking at my surroundings, making sure no one could hear. “My mom did this.” I looked up at Brit’s face before continuing. She was still waiting. “Yesterday…I came home and we got into a…fight, sort of, I'm not sure. She was drinking, and I said some things. She hit me.”
“With?” she whispered.
I bit my lip. “Her…hand.”
“Lilly,” she groaned, her voice raspy trying not to yell.
“Ok,” I whispered more to myself. I took another breath and promised myself to tell the whole truth. I looked up and said, “It was with her belt.”
Brit gasped exaggeratedly like she had broken a nail or her Prada purse. “Oh boy, Lilly! You have to do something.” She paused to inhale and close her eyes for a second. “Seriously. You have to tell somebody or else she’ll kill you!”
“Dude! Don’t exaggerate. It was my fault, anyway. So, it doesn’t matter.”
“Yes it does,” she argued.
I got annoyed at the fact that I knew that I wasn’t going to do anything about it no matter how much I wanted to. Maybe it was because—like in other situations—I was afraid of consequences and also because I knew that Brit was right.
“No, end of conversation.”
Brit’s eyes widened as I tried to walk away. She grabbed my arm before I could make my escape. “Oh, no!” she protested. “Where exactly do you think you’re going?”
I shook her hand away from my arm and glared at her. “Class.”
She couldn’t believe my words as if I was talking crazy. “What? With that bruise on your face.” She sighed. “No. We’re going to ditch school today.”
“Hell no! I’ve never done anything as stupid, ridiculous and dangero—”
She pulled my arm just before I could finish the sentence. We walked in silence toward the front door to make our escape and when we passed through the door, we heard the bell rang behind us.
~*~*~*~*~
“So what’s the plan?” Brit asked anxiously after several minutes of waiting silently for me to talk while I paced. She sat crossed-legged on a bench.
We were in the park just across the street from Brit’s house. Luckily, she lived close to school and her mom and stepfather were both at work; they were not planning on returning until six o’ clock or so.
I froze for a second analyzing Brit’s question. “'The plan'?” I asked angrily. “You better have a plan, because I have nothing! You dragged me into this mess by forcing me to ditch school and you still have the nerve to ask me what the plan is?!”
“Lilly, calm d—”
“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down!”
“Hey, it’s not my fault.”
I sighed. “Sorry.” I paused. “I’m just worried. It’s my first time at this.”
She giggled. “It isn’t mine.” Then she got serious. “Ok, I have an idea. Though, I’m not sure if you’ll like it.” I waited for her to speak again and when she noticed this, she finally spoke again. “You can call your mom and tell her you will be staying here and if she refuses—beg her.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off quickly enough. “I’ll talk to Mom about it later and—I’ll make something up—you know she won’t be mad, since you’re like my sis, so whateves.”
“You’re still not answering your own question. ‘What’s the plan?’” I quoted boringly.
She rolled her eyes, got up from the bench and started walking to me. She gently placed her left hand on my right shoulder. “We will talk to my mom about this. You trust her, right?”
I slowly nodded—too scared to even speak.
“Yeah,” she muttered annoyed. “That was before I noticed your face.”
“What about it?” Panicked entered my system.
“Lilly, you have a huge purple mark the side my middle finger on your face.” I stared down at her hand. Her finger was pretty big.
I sighed. “It’s nothing.”
“Nothing!” she repeated as she threw her hands in the air. “I’ll show you nothing.” She started rummaging in her backpack while muttering some inaudible things. When she found what she was looking for, she took it out and placed it on my hand. It was mirror. I rolled my eyes again and took a look at myself.
Woah, I thought to myself. The bruise was there. I thought make-up would work, but somehow my bruise was visible. Last time I’d checked it wasn’t like that. My face wasn’t like that.
I started cursing mentally every word I could and then felt eyes on me. I looked up to see—Brit raising an eyebrow at me. “Explain now and do not lie to me!”
“Dude, hush!” I said impatiently. “Someone could hear you.”
She didn’t respond. She just stared—more like glared—at me, waiting for an honest answer.
There was no point in lying. Sooner or later she was going to guess something. I definitely knew from the beginning that make-up could not be trusted.
I took one deep breath and analyzed my thoughts before opening my mouth. “Well…,” I started after looking at my surroundings, making sure no one could hear. “My mom did this.” I looked up at Brit’s face before continuing. She was still waiting. “Yesterday…I came home and we got into a…fight, sort of, I'm not sure. She was drinking, and I said some things. She hit me.”
“With?” she whispered.
I bit my lip. “Her…hand.”
“Lilly,” she groaned, her voice raspy trying not to yell.
“Ok,” I whispered more to myself. I took another breath and promised myself to tell the whole truth. I looked up and said, “It was with her belt.”
Brit gasped exaggeratedly like she had broken a nail or her Prada purse. “Oh boy, Lilly! You have to do something.” She paused to inhale and close her eyes for a second. “Seriously. You have to tell somebody or else she’ll kill you!”
“Dude! Don’t exaggerate. It was my fault, anyway. So, it doesn’t matter.”
“Yes it does,” she argued.
I got annoyed at the fact that I knew that I wasn’t going to do anything about it no matter how much I wanted to. Maybe it was because—like in other situations—I was afraid of consequences and also because I knew that Brit was right.
“No, end of conversation.”
Brit’s eyes widened as I tried to walk away. She grabbed my arm before I could make my escape. “Oh, no!” she protested. “Where exactly do you think you’re going?”
I shook her hand away from my arm and glared at her. “Class.”
She couldn’t believe my words as if I was talking crazy. “What? With that bruise on your face.” She sighed. “No. We’re going to ditch school today.”
“Hell no! I’ve never done anything as stupid, ridiculous and dangero—”
She pulled my arm just before I could finish the sentence. We walked in silence toward the front door to make our escape and when we passed through the door, we heard the bell rang behind us.
~*~*~*~*~
“So what’s the plan?” Brit asked anxiously after several minutes of waiting silently for me to talk while I paced. She sat crossed-legged on a bench.
We were in the park just across the street from Brit’s house. Luckily, she lived close to school and her mom and stepfather were both at work; they were not planning on returning until six o’ clock or so.
I froze for a second analyzing Brit’s question. “'The plan'?” I asked angrily. “You better have a plan, because I have nothing! You dragged me into this mess by forcing me to ditch school and you still have the nerve to ask me what the plan is?!”
“Lilly, calm d—”
“Don’t tell me to fucking calm down!”
“Hey, it’s not my fault.”
I sighed. “Sorry.” I paused. “I’m just worried. It’s my first time at this.”
She giggled. “It isn’t mine.” Then she got serious. “Ok, I have an idea. Though, I’m not sure if you’ll like it.” I waited for her to speak again and when she noticed this, she finally spoke again. “You can call your mom and tell her you will be staying here and if she refuses—beg her.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but she cut me off quickly enough. “I’ll talk to Mom about it later and—I’ll make something up—you know she won’t be mad, since you’re like my sis, so whateves.”
“You’re still not answering your own question. ‘What’s the plan?’” I quoted boringly.
She rolled her eyes, got up from the bench and started walking to me. She gently placed her left hand on my right shoulder. “We will talk to my mom about this. You trust her, right?”
I slowly nodded—too scared to even speak.