“Étienne. Oh my god. Oh my god, Étienne.” My sister’s long hair tickled my face as she peeked into the hammock.
Shit. No.I sat up, nearly head-butting her, and tried to shimmy my way out of the hammock. But I was too weak. My sister grabbed my left arm and wrapped it around her. “How’d you know I was here?”
“The twins came out a little while ago with Frankie and saw you. They came running to me. Come on, quick. Mom’s in the shower.” She lifted me out, then pulled me toward the back door.
“She can’t know,” I whispered.
“Étienne, what happened? Was it Thad? Did he do this?”
“No. It was someone else. I don’t want to talk about it.”
No way was I going to talk about it. Just thinking about the night before made my eyes water. Plus, what good would it have done? If I said something, someone else would have found out. Then my mom would find out. Then the police would be called. Then our neighbors would find out. I didn’t want to put that on Thad. Imagine living with a dad like that.
“Étienne. What happened?” Callum started.
“Go now. Take your brother and hold the bathroom door shut to distract Mom. Don’t say a word,” said Riley, cutting him off.
She dragged me in over the doorstep then up the stairs to the kitchen and through the front sitting room. My mom was banging on the bathroom door while my brothers pulled as hard as they could on the handle and giggled loudly so she wouldn’t hear Riley and I passing by. Luckily, my door was still shut from when I left. Riley cracked it open to let me in, then shut it quickly as I tried crawling into bed. I burrowed under the blankets and hid my face in between the pillows. My shoes were still attached to my feet, but I didn’t care. I begged for the pain to stop, but it was too deep to be reversed.
“Hey,” Riley whispered into my ear later on.
I couldn’t fall asleep. I didn’t want to fall asleep. I was afraid my mom would try to wake me and see my face. The bedroom door did creak open once before Riley came in. It was probably my mom. Thankfully my entire body was covered.
“What time is it?” I asked Riley. “Ugh, I have to go to work.”
“No. You don’t. I took your phone and told Rhonda you were really sick.”
“What? When? I don’t remember you coming in. Riley, I can’t miss work,” I protested.
“Have you looked in the mirror?”
No, I hadn’t. I was afraid of what I would see. Nothing had ever happened to my face before, save a zit from time to time. But sitting there in bed, I could only imagine what it looked like, the dried blood on my skin cracking as I squinted.
“Go take a shower and meet me back in here. Hurry. Mom’s with Grandma in the back room.”
I did as I was told. I undressed and hid my bloody polo under the mattress in case my mom came snooping, then threw my jeans into the hamper. There was a scrape on the left knee of the jeans which I didn’t care about; ripped jeans were still in style. In the bathroom I tried to avoid the mirror until after washing everything off. I took the hottest shower my skin could bare and used nearly half my bottle of cleanser to make sure nothing was left on my face. Then I stood under the shower head to try to ease the pain. After the shower I put in my contact lenses to see clearly for the first time in hours.
How am I going to explain that I need new glasses?I stared in the mirror. I hated glasses, but still needed them at night before going to bed, and in the morning.
I sighed as I looked in the mirror. Purplish blue marks covered my left knee and right shoulder, along with a red scrape on my forehead. Fortunately, the bloody gash was mostly above my hairline, hidden under my curls. I would need to go to the store and try to find a concealer to cover up parts of my forehead and my right cheek.Maybe Riley has something.
With the towel wrapped around my body, I ran to my room and threw on a pair of jeans to cover my bruised knee. All my shirts covered my shoulders so there was no worry there.
Riley knocked at the door. “Can I come in?”
“Yeah,” I whispered.
She opened the door, holding her makeup bag. I sighed, relieved.You read my mind.
She placed her makeup bag on my bed.Riley and I were the only ones left in the family with the darker complexion, so her shade of makeup would match my skin. Well, almost. Riley’s skin was a little browner than my olive skin, but not by much. She had me sit on the edge of the bed and told me to close my eyes so she could cover up the red spots on my face.
“Ahh.” I winced when she started to dab my forehead. It was more sensitive than I had anticipated.
“There,” she said before handing me a small mirror from her bag.
It looked perfect. Nearly perfect. Like I went out in the sun and forgot to rub the sunscreen on all of my face. But it was good enough that my mom probably wouldn’t notice. Riley let me have a few of her products and gave me a quick tutorial on how to use them properly.
“Thanks Riley.”