Lingering Touch - A Story of Young Love (20 page)

Ariana's POV:

I wiped my mouth and spit one last time into the toilet. Regret. Tears streamed down my cheeks and I shut my eyes tightly, shaking my head and gritting my teeth. I had sworn I wouldn't do it. I promised myself. But then I did it. And now I had no friends; no amazing Amber to help me through this, no sweet Bella to assure me I'm not a horrible person. I groaned and slapped my forehead. I was such an idiot! After a few minutes of wallowing in self pity, I stood up and examined myself in the mirror.

My cheeks were flushed and tearstained. My eyes were red and puffy, making it painfully obvious that I had recently bawled my eyes out. My forehead was sweaty and the hair around it lay flat and lifeless. I brushed my teeth slowly, rinsing the taste of puke out until all that was left of the foul taste was unreachable in the back of my throat, and I washed the last out with mouth wash.

Basically, my day sucked. And I was done. I threw myself on my bed and stuffed my headphones in my ears, turning my iPod on and all the way up. Red Hot Chili Peppers blasted in my ears and I groaned. Trevor's favorite band. Of course this would happen… But I didn't change it.

I was woken up by the sound of a slamming door. I wasn't surprised so much by the door slamming, but by the silence that followed. No cursing, no smashing, so crashing, just… silence.

I ventured to peek out the door down the stairs. I saw the shadow of not one, but two figures standing in the kitchen. Weird… I stepped out and slammed the door shut. The figures downstairs flinched, but nobody yelled at me.

"Ariana," I heard my father call out gently. I froze. He sounded completely sober. No alcohol invaded his system tonight… and that scared me. "Please come down here, sweetie, there's someone I want you to meet."

Slowly I inched out of the safety of my bedroom and approached the stairs. Honestly, yeah, I was scared. This was not normal. At all.

I took a deep breath and rounded the last corner, facing my dad and whoever was with him. It was a woman about his age. She was pretty. I immediately didn't like her. Suspicion boiled inside of me as I shot her an icy glare.

"Honey, this is Kayla. We're getting married."

Chapter 16 - Adventure is Out There!

"Honey, this is Kayla. We're getting married." My father said firmly, placing a hand on the woman's shoulder gently.

Icy fingers slithered around my heart and squeezed as I looked between the two strangers standing before me. "No…" I mumbled, backing away slowly. My father shook his head and started saying something, stepping closer and causing me to tumble backwards in a desperate attempt to get away.

"Get away from me." I growled, ascending the stairs without taking me eyes off of him. I glared at Kayla and clenched and unclenched my fists at my sides. The movement caught dad's eye and he took a careful step back. When the coast was clear, I turned and ran up the stairs and into my room as fast as humanly possible. With a firm
click
the door locked behind me and I leaned on it breathing heavily. No, my dad couldn't get married! That was never the plan! I yanked a suitcase out from under my bed and started throwing random things in it, all the while keeping up a mental stream of complaints.

He could have at least asked me. I mean, I'll have to deal with her too, thank you very much. And all that talk about wicked step-mothers, it's probably true. All fables are built on truth, you know. And when did they meet, anyway? There was hardly a time I didn't see him at least a little tipsy. But it wasn't as though I saw him very often, even if he
was
my father. Oh and yeah, maybe he should try to spend a little time with me, his daughter? Remember me dad? But no. Instead he has to go and get married like the jerk he is. And they'll probably be having sex in the same bed he did it in with my
mother!
Ew! I shuddered at the thought.

I suddenly became aware of the pounding and shouting at my door. He sounded angry, and I could barely hear a feminine voice by him telling him I'll need time to adjust. Damn right I will.

Using the sound of his insistent yelling as cover, I threw open the window and tossed my suitcase out. It landed in the grass below with a dull thud, followed shortly by myself. I ran to my car just as I heard a door – presumably to my room – swing open. My father's red face appeared at the window moments later.

"You get your ass up here right now, you little bitch!" He shouted, glaring down at me. I shrugged and flipped him the bird before driving off at about five times the speed limit.

o.O.o.O.o.

Two hours later found me driving down a long, desolate road, humming along to Katy Perry. The tears no longer streamed down my face; my eyes were dry as the desert in front of me. My phone buzzed in the seat next to me, and I ignored it easily. This was the fifth call I'd received since I'd left, and I hadn't answered a single one. I didn't even know who they were from, although I had a pretty good guess.

Texas. I was finally going to Texas and there was nothing but empty road ahead of me. In spite of myself, I smiled. Why had I waited so long? The feel of the wind rushing by, blowing my hair wild, was amazing. And the feeling of
finally
doing what I'd been wanting to for so long was even greater.

The Magnolia Hotel was even more beautiful than I had expected. The white, polished marble floors gleamed in the light from the ornate candle chandelier. My room was on the seventh level in a nice – but not ridiculously expensive – suite. The walls were a soft green, and the bed spread was white, decorated with pillows that complemented the walls. Deep burgundy and cream curtains covered the grand window on the far wall, and I even got a writing desk with a swivel chair.

I threw myself onto the luxury bed and screamed with delight. This would be
my
room for the next few days! I wasn't sure how long I'd be staying, but as long as I got to stay here, I would be fine.

I started my stay off with a long, hot shower. Who knew running away would be so exhilarating? I wondered how long I'd be gone, but then I realized I don't care! Long enough at least for these nasty bruises to fade a little.

When I got out, I braced myself. I was going to check my phone… Don't make fun, this was a big moment for me. I assumed my father would have left at least one message, but then again, when had he before? He would have already called Amber and Alyssa… Amber would probably have called but Lyssa was a different story. I hadn't even taken into account what horrible rumors would be spread about me after what just happened at school. In fact, Amber may
not
have actually called, due to the fact that I'd basically been a raging bitch last time we spoke.

And Trevor? I had no idea.

Slowly, mechanically, I lifted the phone gingerly from the bed, peering at the screen through slitted eyes. Nine missed calls, fourteen messages, and two voicemails.
Ok, I can do this.
I checked the missed calls, which seemed the least daunting of the three. Two calls from Dad, three from Amber, one from Alyssa, (shudder), one from a number I didn't recognize, and two from Austin. None from Trevor. I tried not to let that get to me, but still my heart sank a little.
None from Trevor.
That's ok, I still had fourteen messages and two voicemails to check.

Most of the messages were from Amber, and a few from that number that had called me. I found out that number was actually Bella, and she had gotten my number from Amber. I also found out that she and Amber no longer hated me, but were worried about me, crazy as it seemed. Tears sprang into my eyes against my will when I saw that none of the messages were from Trevor.

Clinging to one last tiny shred of hope that maybe, just maybe one of those voicemails was from Trevor, I listened to them. Of course, it was impossible that either would be from him, seeing as he didn't even call. But I listened to them anyway.

The first was from Dad. Not once did he ask where I was. He didn't ask if I was ok, or mention the fact that I had
ran away from home.
All he could do was point out my every flaw. From how I was immature, bratty, inconsiderate, stupid, to how I was unhygienic, disrespectful, horrible in every way. Behind his yelling I could detect the faint sound of a woman crying, but all I could pay attention to were the words that echoed inside my head. Worthless. Selfish. Bitch. I knew my dad wasn't proud of me, but I always somehow hoped that deep down, he loved me. Now I was sure his feelings for me didn't go beyond the surface.

I didn't want to listen to the words, but I didn't have the willpower to delete the message before it ended. And with each insult, my heart broke a little more. My dad really, truly hated me.

Finally it was over. I choked back a sob. Somehow the man managed to torture me, even when we were miles apart. I couldn't bring myself to push the delete button, knowing that every word was true and at least now I had a legitimate reason to hate myself. I couldn't let go of that yet, could I?

My heart shattered when the machine told me the last message was from Amber. I barely heard her words over my own self pity. He hadn't even
tried
to contact me. Then again, maybe he wasn't aware of what happened? If he knew, he would surely be calling without fail until I picked up, right? But I knew that wasn't the case. There was no way he didn't know. Amber would have told him. Alyssa would have gloated to him about it. He knew, yet he never called.

I blinked the tears away furiously, biting my tongue until I tasted blood. I didn't care that he didn't care. I couldn't. This was supposed to be my vacation from all of this drama. I wasn't supposed to think about any of this at least until I was headed back. I threw my phone across the room. It smashed into the wall and dropped with a
thump
to the floor, leaving a dent where it hit. This was
my
drama-free vacation. And I wasn't going to let Trevor or my dad or anyone take that away from me.

o.O.o.O.o.

My next few days were spent wandering the city, looking up good touring locations and going to see them myself. It was a little lonely all by my lonesome self, but I didn't really mind. When I was alone, I didn't have to worry about what everyone else thought.

I also went golfing. It was an old man sport, but I was always a fan. I'd heard once my mother was really good at it, and so I went to the nearby golfing course every morning until I was a pro. It was stupid, but I felt closer to her every time I hit a hole-in-one, or whenever I stepped on the course, even. Why couldn't I just face the fact that my mother hated me just as much as my father?

I explored the city, stopping at fancy building like the state capital building to look around. The Frost Bank Tower was like something out of a fairytale, and I loved it from the moment I saw it. But my favorite was the One Congress Plaza. It was a gorgeous, especially when it lit up in the night. Bright blue against navy. It was absolutely beautiful, and I spent almost every night gazing up at it before going to bed. The window of my room offered a perfect view of the city, and every night I couldn't resist coming home early to watch the city light up from my window. Honestly, it was magic.

It had been five days, and I still was dreading coming home. I still hadn't picked up my phone from where it lay disregarded in the corner of my room. Doing so would possibly persuade me into wanting to go home, which I wasn't ready to do yet. I missed my friends, but being alone with no responsibilities or cares was so
liberating.
I wasn't ready to let that go, not yet.

One night I came home, exhausted from running around all day. I had visited the top rated cafés in the city, wandered around downtown for a good three hours, and stopped at a shopping mall to look at the latest fashions, though I didn't dare buy anything for myself. I only got enough cash out of the ATM in Arizona for the hotel, and spending more would mean having to get more money, which could be tracked. I doubted my father would care enough to actually try looking for me, but I was still terrified at the thought. Right now, Texas was my sanctuary. I didn't want anyone invading.

I took a hot bubbly bath, soaking up all the nutrients the bath salts I put in had to offer. My feet were aching from walking around so much in the past few days, I was grateful I'd thought far enough ahead to bring flats, instead of packing all heels. Soon the water grew cold and my fingers and toes turned into prunes, but I wasn't ready to get out quite yet. I ran a hot shower and lingered under the massaging water for as long as it took for me to completely relax.

Getting out, I smiled to myself and looking in the foggy mirror. My distorted reflection grinned back at me. Had it been over a week since I purged? Considering what had happened the past little while, I saw that as a
huge
accomplishment. I was doing so good, in fact, that I thought I'd endulge myself with a little treat. Wrapped in a fluffy towel, I danced over to the little telephone in my room, calling down for a dessert to be sent to my room. I figured I'd have a while before they brought it up, so I sat on the edge of the bed and stared out the grand window at my beautiful city.

After just one minute though, there was a knock at the door. That was the fastest room service I'd ever had! Holding the towel more securely, I ran a finger through my dripping hair self consciously. I opened the door, ready to allow in a cart topped with a warm, molten lava cake, but instead yelped and jumped back.

There, standing in my doorway, stood none other than Trevor Rushton, looking apologetic, concerned, and shocked, (probably at seeing me in just a towel… awkward.) The shock on my face must have matched his, because all I could do was stare at him with my mouth gaped open. What the hell was he doing here?

Chapter 17 - Final Chapter

"What are you doing here, Trevor?" I demanded, holding the towel tightly and backing away slightly. Shock briefly registered across Trevor's face before he averted his eyes, choosing to look at his feet. His cheeks flushed as he rubbed the back of his head awkwardly.