Waves

The first week of winter break I was able to spend alone. Jason was busy helping his dad with some business stuff. Dad and I spent the first two days cleaning up the house and finding old things that weren't important. Last to clean out was the attic. We rummaged through boxes of all sizes.

"Clary look," I heard my dad call. I walked over and found dad holding Lacey's old teddy bear she had since she was two. Dad broke down and cried and I sobbed right along with him. We hugged each other. "I still dream that we are all together and then I wake up and, and," he cried.

"I know," I sobbed. "I remember when Lacey fell out of that oak tree at the park. We all were so worried, but she got up and kept playing. She was so strong." It was our first outburst since we moved. Dad held me and rocked me. At one point he held me too tight and I winced. I cried again, not just for Lacey and mom, but for my poor excuse of a life. Everything had been going so well, but no matter where I was or where I escaped to, the pain still came for me. We left the attic and I placed the teddy bear in my room on the nightstand.

For the next few days I went shopping for a few more long sleeves. I even got a scarf just in case, but so far the bruises remained on my torso, waist, and arms. On the second to last day my dad convinced me that both of our cars needed an oil change. We had surpassed the four-thousand mile marker, but dad probably wanted to hang out with Charlie. Charlie was an older guy, way older than my dad, and came over for dinner a few times. He had grey hair, he was skinny except for the beer gut, and was short. His eyes where a normal shade of brown and were always happy. I reluctantly went hoping Tristan wouldn't be there. The drive was fast and when I pulled into the almost run down garage I regretted it. Underneath the Impala was Tristan. He wore loose fitted jeans and a black shirt. I could see the muscle and immediately knew that Tristan was stronger than Jason. For some odd reason I thought about Tristan holding me and then shook it. He was a player and would only hurt people.

"Erik!" yelled Charlie. They gave each other a guy hug and a loud pat on the back. "Whatcha need done?"

"Nothing major. Just an oil change for the truck and Corolla," my dad said easily. I could tell he was happy.

"Ah and the lovely Clary," Charlie said kissing my hand. Did I mention he was a romance kind of guy? This got Tristan to role himself from out under the Impala. He glared at me and got up. He was dirty from fixing up cars, but it actually was a good look for him. "Tristan this is-"

"Clary. I know. We go to school together," he said in an irritated tone. He wiped his hands off on a semi-clean rag and turned to some other tools.

"Clary I'm going to go fill out some paper work," dad said, "I'll be right back." He followed Charlie into his office. I was alone with Tristan and I gulped nervously. He turned back to the Impala and began to work from under the hood. He let his dark hair fall in his face so I couldn't see his eyes.

"Tristan, I'm sorry if I did anything to hurt you," I began, "I don't see why your being such an, an-"

"Ass," he finished standing up from the hood. It was true. Ever since Jason was around he's been nothing but an asshole and a jerk. "How long?"

"How long what?" I said but knew he meant the beatings. He stormed outside into the back where a scrap pile was kept. I followed after him.

"How long has he been hurting you?" he asked a little more clearly.

"He hasn't hurt me," I lied threw my teeth.

"Stop lying!" he yelled. I cringed in fear. Would he hit me too? "Tell me the truth. I saw those bruises. They were in the shape of his hands."

"It was like I said. We were surfing and-" I started.

"Bullshit," he said in calm anger. His grey blue eyes were a storm, raging between anger and something else, something I couldn't identify.

"Two months," I said hanging my head to the ground. I noticed Tristan tense up. "He, he hasn't h-hurt me in awhile though," I confessed. Why couldn't I keep my mouth shut around him. I wanted to trust him, but at the same time I wanted to hate him. I didn't understand myself at all anymore. The burning and fury every time I saw him making out with a new girl. Could I be jealous? Could he be? It all drove me mad. I wanted to scream.

"Pleas don't tell," I said. I felt a hand on my cheek and I cringed in fear. He was going to hit me, but he didn't. Tristan wiped away my tears and sighed.

"Fine, but you have to break up with him," he stated. I looked at him in fear. If I tried to break things off again I might get killed.

"No. I can't," I cried. Panic started to rise and I couldn't breathe. What was wrong? Was I dying? Help, I screamed in my head. Oh God, somebody help me!

"Clary? Clary, calm down. Your having a panic attack," he said panicked. I thought of something different. I thought of my dad and how we spent our days unpacking boxes and fixing up our new house. Slowly I began to relax and breathe. "Are you okay?" he asked.

"I have to go," I said and retreated to my car which was thankfully done. I told dad I had something to do and I began my way home. I was surely dead if Tristan confronted Jason. Oh Lacey, I thought, what did I do to deserve this? I got home and ran upstairs and clung to Lacey's teddy bear and cried more. Eventually I collapsed in exhaustion.