Believe in Me

“What do you want?”

“Come on, Lil. Don’t be like that. We’re family.”

There he goes. Pulling the ‘we’re family’ bullshit. It was times like these when I couldn’t stand my brother. I loved him and I always will, but boy, he got on my nerves. He was the first to reach out to me. I didn’t answer his calls at first, but eventually I gave in. I couldn’t ignore him forever…we’re family.

“You didn’t treat me like family that night.” I told him harshly. I wasn’t about to forgive him so easily. I had my reasons to be angry. “You let dad push Pat and I around. It’s unfair, Landon. He’s an asshole.”

“He’s back in jail.”

“What?” My dad…back in jail? I didn’t know if I should laugh or cry. I knew my dad was a dick, but deep, deep down, I wanted a relationship with him. The only father figure I ever had was Landon. After Landon told me that, I knew that I’d probably never see my dad again.

“Violated probation. Stole money from mom and left with a car he stole. Got caught and now he’s locked up again.” Landon revealed. At that point, all hope for a relationship with him was lost. What an idiot. Using my Mom and stealing from her? I wouldn’t mind if he rotted in hell. My hatred for him was unbelievable.

“Mom wants to talk to you, Lil.” Landon told me after a while. I sighed, unsure of what to tell him. I missed talking to her, but she kicked Patrick and me out…for my dad.

“She’s made no effort to talk to me. She must not want to speak to me that bad.” I shot back, sounding like an immature child. I could picture Landon standing there, drinking a beer, rolling his eyes at me.

“Give her a chance.”

“Who said I’ve forgiven her? She needs to apologize to me and Patrick.” I told my brother. I couldn’t speak to my mom until she sincerely apologized to Patrick. That was not how I wanted their first meeting to go. Landon continued to lecture me, but eventually we got off the phone. I had to get ready to go to see Patrick. He was having some of the team over for a BBQ, and he wanted me to come.

I put on some mascara and threw on a lavender blouse with some jeans. I grabbed my purse and coat, then walked out onto the street. For some reason why, it took forever for me to get a cab. I spent my time staring out the window, taking a good look at the city.

I realized I hadn’t taken a good look at it. I hadn’t explored the city since I’d gotten there. Once I moved in, I met Rachel, then my life was hectic after that. Everything was Patrick, Patrick, and Patrick.

I was awaken from my daydream when I felt the taxi cab ram into something. I didn’t see anything, but I felt myself fly forward, jamming into the passenger seat. I jolted back and hit my head on the side of the window. The driver freaked out, jumping out of his car. I felt dizzy, but I didn’t pass out.

In shock, I got out of the cab. I looked at the car in front of us, examining how damaged it was. It was obvious. Our cab was going far too fast and ran into the minivan. My driver most likely ran a red light, but I wasn’t paying attention. My cab driver turned to me, a large cut on his cheek.

“No fine, Miss. You go. No fine.” He told me. I took what he said, and ran.

I was near Patrick’s complex, so I got there shortly after taking off. I felt dizzier, but I knew I needed water. I shouldn’t have ran so fast, but it was my instinct that made me do so. Huffing and puffing, I walked into Patrick’s complex. I felt people’s eyes on me, but I didn’t know why. I figured people knew who I was, since I’d been seen so many times there with Patrick.

I ran into the elevator and clicked the Penthouse button far too many times. The damn elevator couldn’t have gone slower. It stopped on floor 16, picking up two teenage girls. They didn’t say anything to me. Like everyone else, they just stared.

I ignored them and got out as soon as the doors opened on Patrick’s floor. I felt exhausted, like I had just ran a marathon. My hand shook slightly as I knocked on the door.
Patrick opened up, and looked frightened as soon as he saw it was me.

“What!?” I shrieked. “Why is everyone staring at me!?”

I pushed through him, ignoring his expression. He grabbed my arm, pulling me back in front of him. “What the fuck happened? Are you okay?” He asked worriedly. His face was pale and he looked nauseous.

I rolled my eyes, “I’m fine, babe. The taxi cab got in a little accident, but I’m okay.” I told him. I walked into the living room, ignoring what else he had to say.

“Lilly, look at your face. That wasn’t a little accident. We need to get you cleaned up. What taxi number were you in? I’m going to raise hell.” Patrick grunted, leading me into the bathroom. I was in pure shock when I saw my face. A large cut lined my forehead, and blood was smeared all over. The bottom of my eye has a gash in it, probably from hitting the window. Patrick sighed, reaching in cabinets under his sink for some bandages.

“This is going to burn, okay?” He told me, pouring some rubbing alcohol onto a cotton ball. “I’m going to be gentle, but it’s going to hurt.”

I closed my eyes, preparing for the pain. I clinched my fist tightly, trying not to scream. Andrew walked in, raising his eyebrows when he saw my face. “What the hell happened to her?” He asked Patrick, completely oblivious to the fact that I was sitting right there.

“Cab accident.”

“That doesn’t look so good…maybe she should go to the hospital.” Andrew suggested. I opened my eyes, “NO!” I shrieked. I hate hospitals. Needles scared me. The whole idea of being in a huge building with sick people freaked me out. “I don’t need to go to the hospital. It’s just a few cuts.”

“No, you should. I think you need stitches, babe…” Patrick told me, grabbing my hand. “Let’s go to the hospital.”

I groaned, feeling the butterflies flutter in my stomach. “No, I’m fine. I don’t even feel anything.” I lied. Patrick didn’t believe a word I said, considering the look on his face. We left the bathroom and walked into the living room. Rachel gasped when she saw me, and hurriedly walked my way. “Lilly, oh my gosh! Are you alright!?”

“Cab accident.” Patrick answered for me. “We’re heading to the hospital. Tell everyone sorry I can’t be here. We’ll be back later.”
Rachel sighed, giving me a comforting hug. “You call me if you need anything, okay?”
______________________________________

Being at the hospital was brutal. I had to get stitches above my eye, and I had bandages all over. After hours of being there, they finally let me go home. Patrick wanted to stay with me, but I assured him I was fine. He had to focus on hockey, I didn’t want to be a distraction. Instead, I had Rachel come over. She had no problem leaving Jon to stay with me, so it was comforting to know I wouldn’t be alone.

“Does your face hurt?” Rachel asked, taking a bite of her sandwich. I shook my head, “No. They gave me painkillers.”

Rachel chuckled, “Ooooh, they gave you the good stuff, didn’t they?”

I rolled my eyes, “No. Just normal painkillers. Don’t worry, I won’t be tripping out or anything.” I laughed. We sat there watching Sex and The City, munching on snacks. Rachel ate way more than me, but she’s pregnant. She had an excuse.

“I think I’m gonna have a boy.” Rachel smiled, rubbing her stomach. “A little hockey player. Like his daddy.”

“What makes you think it’s a boy?”

“I don’t know. I just have that feeling, ya know? That it’s right. It’s a boy. I think a boy would be so good for us. Jon would love it.” She smiled. “Jon already bought kid sized Bauer skates.”

I couldn’t respond to her, because my phone started ringing. I looked at the Caller ID before answering. Mom.

“Hello?” I answered shyly. I was nervous to talk to her, I had no idea how the conversation would go.

“Are you okay?” She asked me. I was confused, so I told her I was fine. “Patrick called and told us about your accident.” She revealed. Patrick called my family for me?

“I’m fine…he called you?”

“Yes. We talked for a while.” She told me. I swallowed, oh great. “I apologized to him. He accepted openly, he’s a very nice boy, Lillian.”

“I know he is. Thanks for apologizing.” I told her. I smiled when she told me that about Patrick, and Rachel stared at me, questioning my expression.

“Keep in mind he is a professional athlete. Sometimes it’s hard to trust men like that.” Here we go, another lecture. “I trust him and he trusts me. We’re fine. I understand what you’re saying, but I trust him.” I told her. I didn’t need people telling me to ‘watch out’. They treated me like I was still sixteen.

I talked to my mom for a while longer, and she revealed what she and Patrick talked about. It was weird, the fact that my mother and my boyfriend had a long conversation without me there; especially when they barely knew each other.

“Was that your mama?” Rachel asked when I hung up the phone.

“Yep. Patrick called her and told her about my accident.” I said. “She apologized for what happened in LA, too.”

“That’s good.” Rachel smiled, eating a spoonful of ice cream. “Want some?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t be eating so much junk food. “I can’t. I need to start dieting.”

“You’re a twig.”

“Ever since I’ve been with Patrick, I’ve been gaining weight. We go out to eat at all of these nice restaurants and look where it’s gotten me. I’m getting fat.” I told her. My body had been bothering me for the past few weeks, but I never admitted it to anyone. I didn’t bother to tell Patrick. I knew he’d try his best to make me feel beautiful, but nothing would work.

“You’re not fat, Lilly.” She told me, rolling her eyes. “What size are you?”

“A 4.” I said shyly. I knew it could be worse, but I was so damn disgusted with myself. Rachel threw her head back, shaking it in awe.

“You’re dumb. Look at you, you’re perfect. At least you’re not pregnant. I’m gonna gain like, 50 pounds.”

Rachel had a point. She would be getting bigger than me, and I didn’t want to sound stupid complaining in front of her. “I’m just saying I’m uncomfortable. I need to work out more.” I mumbled. Rachel didn’t say anything, and I knew the conversation was over.

Things were awkward between us after that as we silently watched TV. Rachel got sick, so I held her hair up as she puked in the bathroom. I tried not to puke too, it was so gross.

“Thanks.” She told me, wiping her mouth with a cloth. “Jon never wants to help me.” She laughed. “I’m always puking alone.”