Take This to Your Grave

My dad woke me up the next day; it was well into the afternoon, and he had come in and asked if I was dead. My head still pounded and last night had been a slight blur, but I remembered. My dad came into my bedroom as I sat up, rubbing my head, "Good afternoon."

I squirted at him, "Hey, dad."

He paused upon entering, "Holy... What the hell happened?"

I touched my temple, "I fell. I did a Tom Cruise slide and busted my ass."

My dad chuckled and sat on my bed beside me, "You alright?"

"I'm okay. Just hurts."

My dad touched it, I hissed slightly, and he winced, "Put ice on it."

"I will."

He looked me over, "Amy is making lunch for us. You should come down when you can."

"Yeah, I just need to get up." I told him.

"All right, kiddo." He got up, patted my head and left the room.

I rolled over in my bed and stared up at my ceiling. The stars and moons, planets stared back, and I instantly wondered what Pete was doing. Then, I got angry, apoplectic feelings rushed through me; he was a traitor; I thought. A big fuckin' traitor who was too afraid to stick up for me, or to even feel a bit sorry for me. He couldn't even apologize in a way that he meant it; I felt so pissed at him, but I couldn't stand it any longer.

I got out of my bed, lazily making the bedding and sheets and went to brush my teeth.


I sat on my porch, drinking a bottle of cola that Amy had bought me just before she and my dad went off. They went to see a movie, offering me to go, but I refused, saying I needed to walk Princess. It was true, but I wanted to bow out and never return to the Wentz's again.

But, I couldn't do that to Mrs. Wentz. She never did anything to me... Except give birth to Pete. I couldn't hold that against her, she's too kind for me to hold anger against her.

I had concealed the bruise, remembering everything Babette had taught me and then went next door. Mrs. Wentz was home, attending to her rose garden out front; "Hello Mrs. Wentz."

She turned to me; she was on her knees, plucking weeds out; "Hey Naomi. How are you, honey?"

"I'm fine." I forced a smile. "I came to walk Princess."

She frowned slightly, "Oh, Naomi, Peter took Princess to the vet today. She has to get her shots."

"Oh." I muttered shortly. "Is she okay?"

Mrs. Wentz smiled, nodding, "Of course, it's routine. You can walk her next week; she'll be a little out of it for awhile."

We talked for a bit before I returned home. I went upstairs, to my bedroom, and found the bag of clothes that belonged to Pete. I went downstairs, out the backyard, and stood on my dad's old gazebo chair. I looked over the fence and saw Pete sitting by the pool, quiet as can be. Licking over my lips, I tossed the bag over, "There's your clothes..." He looked at me, "I don't ever want to see or talk to you again."

I jumped off the chair and made my way back inside. As soon as the door closed, I felt like crying and I wasn't sure why. I think it's because I like Pete too much and he didn't like me that way. I wish it were so easy not to like people that way. I also wished I could've gotten advice from my dad.

I shrugged the tears off, climbed onto the couch, curled up and turned the TV on. I flipped through the channels, distancing myself from the real world as much as I could. Mind numbing TV did that sometimes.


I woke up to the feeling light; soft murmuring as well. I was being carried up the stairs, my dad was speaking softly to Amy. He told her to open my door and pull my comfort back for him. I kept my eyes shut, my body was light, but tired as well. My head throbbed still, and it took a lot not to groan. My dad had stopped after a moment and then lowered me onto my bed; "Naomi?"

"My head hurts, dad." I responded.

"Are you hungry?" Amy offered.

"Yes."

"I'll bring you something, honey," she said. I implored, to myself, as to why women called me honey.

"I'll get you some aspirin." My dad added.

"Thanks."

My dad kissed my forehead; I listened to their steps fade from my bedroom. I rolled over, tugging a pillow, when I felt a piece of scrapped paper, folded underneath it. I squinted in the soft lighting flooding from my desk lamp and looked the paper over. I blinked, feeling the crumpled, folded paper in between my fingers. I wasn't sure if it were real or if I were dreaming.

My dad entered my room, "Here ya go."

I turned to him, dropping the note, or whatever it was, and took the pills from his opened palm. I swallowed them, and took the Dixie cup from him, swallowing the water; "Thanks, dad."

"Sure thing. Are you all right? I thought you were concussed, but Amy assured you weren't."

I smiled faintly, "I feel okay."

He touched my temple, "How'd you cover the bruise?"

"I looked it up, tried some stuff out."

He nodded, "It looks good."

I shrugged slightly, "The Internet is your friend."

He chuckled, "I only got it for you."

Amy appeared a moment later with a sandwich and chips, and a can of pop; "Here you are, Naomi. I hope you'll like this."

"I'll eat anything, Amy." I told her with a laugh.

She smiled and set the can next to my bed and gave me the plate; "Am I keeping your old man from you?"

I shook my head, "No way, I'm glad he's out with you."

They looked at each other, and then she looked back at me, "As long as you're okay with it."

"I am, believe me." I took a chip and began to chew.

"We're gonna go watch a movie, Naomi. Do you wanna join us?"

I shook my head, "I'm good... Still kinda tired."

They stayed for a bit longer before heading downstairs. I turned my little TV on and continued to eat. As soon as I finished my attention turned back to the note. I picked it up and unfolded it; Forgive me, I've never had trouble like this before. P

I frowned and sighed. Pete had me in a bind. I liked him too much.