Chapter 9: Blame

Abigail is told that her one of her darkest secrets, isn't really much a secret.

Abigail

Tyler’s picture

in the right hand corner
of my mirror catches
 my attention. I sigh
and kiss my fingertips,

 then touch them
to his picture.
"You would’ve wanted this."
 I whisper quietly.

 I know myself that
it’s true, Tyler
wouldn’t have
wanted me sitting

 at home, cutting
and feeling sorry
for myself. I can
eliminate one of those

 three things by going
to Peyton’s party.
 The last time I had seen
 him was in Honors Biology

third period, Thursday
afternoon. He hadn’t
said anything about a
party, hadn’t said anything

to me actually. The
 thought of him being
too shy to talk to me
drifts through my mind,

 but I quickly dismiss it.
Peyton Greene, too shy to
speak to me? Since Grade 9
 he’s known I have a little

crush on him, it hasn’t
really gotten much
 further than that. We
talk once in a while as

 lab partners or casually
in the halls when we’re
in the same group. I know
 it was wrong of me and

 I still beat myself up
 about it but after
Tyler’s passing I sort
of wished Emily would

come by still, just not as
often, to pay her respects
to our family seeing as she
was a very big part of it.

And her little brother
Peyton would tag along
to be polite. But he never
 did, too busy doing drugs

 and getting drunk. We were
 different people from
different worlds. So it kind
of came as a shock, but a good

 one of course, that he had
told Jamie that he wanted
me at his party. He was
one of those movie dreamy

boys. He has dark hair that
seems to sit in all right the
right places and frame his
beautiful face. It is composed of

clear blue eyes, that seem to
reflect the sun. Peyton has the
one of those body's that
deserve to be half naked on

the side of the highway
on a huge billboard so that
everyone can just drool
at his drop dead good looks

But of course, that’d be a
crash hazard. Even boys at
 our school knew he was hot.
His bros got lots of attention too

because if you hang around one
hot guy, than cute girls will follow, right?
Exactly and not everyone could
 get Peyton, so girls would

settle for his not-as-hot friends.

 

 


 

I hop in the car with Jamie and her boyfriend.

 
He isn’t cute at all. In fact,
        he's kind of a creep.


He looks as though he had gotten
         a brutal beating


with the ugly stick. Big build,
        oily dead hair, pubescent


teenage acne, scruffy beard and
           the kind of voice that


you hear and then walk in the
          other direction. I’m


shocked really. It is my first
          time meeting him.


Jamie doesn’t say much about
           Rick but apparently


he works on a construction
            site at the far end

of town and had dropped
            out of high school

 pretty recently. Don’t get
               me wrong,


 Jamie is a pretty girl, but
             she dates guys

like an ugly one. "Abigail
                I’m so glad

you decided to come, everyone’s
               missed you so much,

 you never go out anymore."
                Jamie twists in


her seat at the front, turning
                 to face me. I


continue to stare out of the window,
                  my chin leaning

 

into my palm. "Yeah, I really gotta
               focus on school now.


It’s senior year, you know? Have to
              get into a good university."


She turns back. I watch her face in the
                mirror, she seems to be


contemplating a thought, trying to
                    decide if she should

say it or not. So I push her to,
               "What is it?"

She comes back down to earth
                and  faces me again.

"Does your mother expect you to get
            into as good a school as Tyler did?"





I can feel she regrets the words
 
she speaks the second
 they leave her lips.
 "It’s okay," I mumble, "Probably,

but I’m not Tyler." She weighs
my response in her head and

then nods thoughtfully. "I’m just
 happy you’re coming out." She
smiles and then goes back to

facing the front, having a remotely
quiet conversation with Rick.

 

 

 

We finally get to the house,


after a 20 minute car ride of
me forcing myself to attempt


to chew through the awk
ward tension with small talk.


I don’t even know if you could
even call what we had a conversation.


Thinking of things to say is such
a chore when you’ve been


a social reject for 2 years. I
forgot just how much of a


social butterfly I had been
before…


I step out of the car, my
newly found confidence


from earlier receding back
inside the spineless void


of my body. I trail behind
Jamie like a lost puppy,


arms crossed self consciously
around my torso as she


enthusiastically waves back
to Raging pedophile Rick.


There is a distant perfume of
weed and booze as we walked,

 
(well in Jamie’s case, stumbled,
someone had done a little pre-


drinking), up the granite pathway.
The door is wide open and

 
the stench began to flow towards
us, steeping in the front corridor


of the house I believe to be Peyton’s.
Speak of the devil, I watch him


weave and twist around the crowds
of swaying bodies with arms held


up high, red cups firm in their
grasps. I can tell he’s had a few



drinks himself as he approaches
us with a  huge smile on his face.


"I knew it! I just knew you’d come."
Jamie takes a step back, offended,

 
I wonder why until I realize that his
previous words were directed at me.


A rush of conceit washes over me.
"And how could you have been so sure?"
 

His perfectly aligned, straight teeth
begin to show even a little more as


his lips pull back into a movie star
worthy, crooked smile. Jamie

 
decides it’s time to cordially invite
herself back into our little exchange.


"I told you I’d get her to come, Peyton."
Jamie smiles proudly, clearly her intention


 is to get his attention. I’m sure Peyton
knows it too. But he continues to smile


at me despite the perfect blonde, big
boobed Barbie doll standing beside him.


He acts as though she doesn’t exist
as he snakes his arm around my


shoulders and guides me further into
the crowds and away from my clearly


pissed off, ride home.



He takes a lazily directed, messy swig of beer

and c***s his head toward me, still wearing that
dazed, dazzling  smile on his face. "I’ve missed
seeing you around Abbie. I feel like you’re
always ducking around, avoiding everyone.
I understood why at the beginning but now?
You must be over it now, I am." I brush off his
inconsiderate words for drunk blubbering. "I
mean we both went through a rough time,
right? They were like best friends or some
s**t, I think. But they were wrong, they took
s**t for granted." It is hard to take this once
beautiful boy, seriously with the smell of
stale beer suffocating me. The weight of
his tan, toned body leaning on my right side
starts to get uncomfortable.  His words are
slurred and messy but the meaning behind
those words is clear. Any respect I had
managed to build up for him over the years
we had known each  other was all shattered
and hit the ground in a matter of seconds.
"Things take a little longer when you don’t
have weed and alcohol to turn to."

I can see him weighing

some sort of options
in his mind. Even
with his eyes glazed over
 and his body slouching

 I know he has something
to say. Something any sober,
 sane person would keep to
themselves, but clearly

Peyton is neither. We have
 reached the stairs of his back
door, I help him down  before
he collapses onto the grass deep

inside his backyard. Angry, but
in no mood to leave this helpless
drunk alone, I follow him and sit
down a fair distance away. He

sits up, finally making his
decision. "Maybe no alcohol
and weed, but what you do
isn’t any more of a right

choice." He drops his beer and
grabs my arm a little too hard,
yanks up my sleeve, running
his fingers up and down my

rough, raised scars. "And still
going..." His eyes widen as he
 discovers my newest cut. I am
frozen with fear, no trace of

embarrassment. Just fear.
Does Jamie know? Does
my mother know? Grandma
Jane? The priest, even my

dentist? But most of all,

 how did Peyton know?

I can see in his face that there is no regret,

 

no fear, no remorse,

nothing.

Just a smug smile with a hint

          of amusement. "W-who told you

           …" I finally manage to spit it out

tripping over my swollen tongue

as beads of sweat slowly roll

down the bridge of my nose and
forehead. " Does it really matter
Abbie? It’s not how I found out
,

just the fact that I did, right?"
He seems to be sobering

 up,

propping himself up on his
elbow, clearly satisfied with
the turn of events. "How many

people know…?" He rolls onto

his back, clearly not interested

anymore. "I don’t know, a lot but
no one says anything. You’re
the girl with the crazy brother,

gotta deal with it someway."
A pang of anger strikes

me.

"Yeah? And what about you?
Your sister wasn’t exactly
perfect." I spit the words out

 

"It was your brothers
fault, he fucked her up,

and you fucked him up,
so really Abbie,
 it’s all your fault."

 

 

 

Author's Note

That last one wasn't supposed to spell anything, don't worry! Please let me know what you think!