When Perfect Meets Crazy

I wasn’t surprised to not find him when I finished tutoring. Even I wouldn’t have waited ninety minutes, no matter the circumstance. Well, unless my mum explicitly asked me to.

My lips curved up in a small smile as I walked to my car. Looks like I win this round, Idiot.

I swung by a local diner to pick up Olly. She needed a ride home from her violin lesson. Apparently after practice, she decided to get a late lunch at a diner in the area and wanted me to drop her off at home. I would never understand what she had against calling her driver but I had long given up on trying to get her to see reason. She was only two years away from license anyways. And more importantly, in a few months I’d be away at Harvard where it wouldn’t be my problem.

“How was practice?” I inquired as she collapsed into the front seat.

“Do you think mum will let me drop it? Or at least switch to guitar?”

“Not even if your life depended on it.” I scoffed, shooting her a flat look. “Besides, there’s no guitar in an orchestra.”

“You know, it’s not so bad when I’m learning new pieces and prepping for a show but still, it’s so boring and uptight. Geez.” She huffed, roughly pulling the seat belt.

“Yeah, well, that’s the point. ‘Boring and uptight’ gives her bragging rights,” I explained, backing unto the road. “‘Boring and uptight’ in this case translates into ‘respectable and cultured’.”

Being the mummy’s pet that she was, Olly got off easy. I was forced to master the piano and the cello when I was her age. There was talk of getting me on a harp but thankfully, it didn’t work out. School got busy, I ‘graduated’ music lessons and the idea was dropped but of course, my entitled little sister would complain about her one instrument.

“Sheesh.” She rolled her eyes. “None of my friends do this stuff. It’s so lame.”

“You’re fourteen. She’ll let you drop it soon enough. Just pick a really tough piece, perform it, then tell her you’ve mastered the violin,” I suggested.

“Really? It’ll work?” Excitement blossomed on her face. I could practically hear her mentally planning a million and one hangouts with the new found free time.

“It’s what I did but don’t get your hopes up because as soon as you drop that, she’ll get on you to start working on your college portfolio.”

Her smile collapsed.

“You’ll be swamped with more after-school jobs than a single mum with only a high school diploma.”

She flashed me a frustrated look and leaned back in her seat. “Ugh.”

• • •

Dinner had been cooked, eaten and the plates were now being cleared. Olly, true to form, was already upstairs pretending to have gone to bed to get out of having to do any extra house chore. Our mom wasn’t home yet but that wasn’t out of the norm for us even though it was going on ten p.m. Unfortunately, our dad was. I smelled him before I saw him. I had my earphones in so I didn’t hear him arrive while I was taking care of the plates but he quickly took care of that by greeting me with an unexpected resounding slap on my back. A very painful one. Shockwaves reverberated through me, sending the plate I had been washing into sink, soap suds splashing all over my clothes. Even as tiny beads of tears sprang to my eyes, I sent up a quick prayer of thanks that the plate didn’t break. Clearly, my dad was in one of his moods. I didn’t need my mum against me too for unexplainably breaking one of her fancy dinner plates.

I haphazardly wiped my hands on my clothes and hurriedly pulled out my earphones, stashing them in my pocket.

I turned to face him.

“Welcome home.” Despite my effort, my voice wobbled, betraying my terror.

Warning lights were already flashing in my head. I could smell enough alcohol on him to know it wasn’t going to be a pleasant encounter. The knowledge didn't help matters. My heart was racing in my ribcage.

Before I could blink, his palm came crashing down, getting me on the lower half of my face, between my jaw and neck. It hurt. A lot. Tears filled my eyes as I waited for the wave of pain to subside, wondering in a distant part of my mind if it was going to leave a bruise.

“Are you deaf!” he thundered, neck veins bulging.

It wouldn’t, I decided. It was bad but my skin had seen worse. There would be no bruise from this. Besides, drunk or not, he knew better than to leave visible evidence that would be hard to hide.

“I’m sorry.” My voice was scratchy and shaky with fear and unshed tears. “I had my earphones in.”

The explanation only made him angrier. His nostrils flared, eyes flashing red as the smell of alcohol invaded my nostrils. It was suddenly all I could smell.

I shivered.

“So if somebody broke in, that would be it? Your excuse. ‘I had my earphones in’?”

The way he sneered the words had me shrinking, trying to make myself smaller, less noticeable. A distant part of my mind informed me that things weren’t looking good.

I gulped, managing to shield my face in time as his hand came crashing down again. And again. And again. And again. Until I lost count. When he was finally satisfied I had learned my lesson, he staggered upstairs.

my hands hard against my mouth to muffle my sobs. Shut up, Avy. Shut up. You know how he feels about dramatics. Or worse, Olly will hear. Shut the fuck up. I drew in a shaky breath, pressed my hands harder

• • •

in through the window I hadn’t gotten around to closing. Too busy crying my eyes out and whatnot. He dusted himself off and straightened

don’t believe they are entirely harmless. It’s the seemingly harmless ones you should

tears. It wasn’t such a bad episode and I wasn’t usually such a cry-baby about it but today, I couldn’t seem to stop. The tears waned enough for me to finish doing the dishes and crawl to my room but after getting here, with nothing else to do but mentally replay the episode and berate myself, the water works

he crept in, he really looked

He froze mid-step.

drew up a mental image of what he was seeing. Me, curled up in a corner with my arms around my legs, trying to make myself as small as possible. It was the clichéd girl-crying-in-a-corner image. Fuck. Shit. A part of me couldn’t believe I kept my secret this long, only for him to accidentally walk in on it. Even Olly had never seen me cry

confirmed my thoughts that he was,

throat and

ducts are simply leaking because they feel like.

wasn’t already bad

momentarily drifting shut in shame. How pathetic can you get? And for what? Sympathy?  From a stranger? A

he

quality that made it clear he didn’t quite believe what was happening right before his eyes. You’re a regular

subconscious was not sparing either of us. I had long since come to accept it as one of my defense mechanisms. By subconsciously being unsavoury to myself whenever I cried, I increased

go away, Asshat.” I infused as much venom as I could find -and it was a lot- into those

his teeth, “I just wanted

perfectly fine.

distance between us, coming to a

deaf? I

miracle for him not to figure out that my true purpose of driving him away

he said tentatively, crouching to my level. He stretched out a hand

Just get out! Are you deaf on top of everything else?”

hadn’t chosen that inopportune moment to slide down my cheek. Arrghh!

hissed, his lips peeling back in a snarl. “I don’t want to be here any

the effect it would have but it was either sniffle or let snort run down my face. I couldn’t hold it off any

don’t like you as much as you don’t like me but you’re crying and unfortunately I have sisters. I can’t

drifted shut, a wave of embarrassment and

one last

made it clear he didn’t get why it was so important to

cried out, losing what was left of my cool

a deep breath. “Because I shouldn’t... No, because I

lip. I kept my gaze trained on that and

finally coming to

At least I’d get to save some of

who to call and I’ll leave when they get

blanked

shook my head violently, wondering if I had heard him wrong. The last thing I needed was for another person to see me like this. “What? No... no. You don’t understand. Nobody can see me cry. Can see me... like

not? What’s so wrong with crying? I mean, it’s vulnerable and blah, blah, blah but everybody does it. So calm down, the world won’t

I whispered, my insides deflating with

help me get it. Everybody cries.” His tone was curt and irritated. “Take off your prom queen crown for a second and stop being so full of yourself. Prom queen or not, you're a

hands and pulling at the strands of hair that slid

the piteous victim role on thick, aren’t you, Avy? If only you were half as good

making

gaze to his face. He had on a confused frown and was waiting

I heaved a sigh.

swallowed, the words getting stuck in

again, my eyes rapidly feeling up.

hate emotions.

managed, rushing over the words out in a

with being weak now and then? The other ninety

saying it to make me feel better. He really didn’t understand

time I broke into your room, you didn’t shout for help. You just stood there, issued an

I wasn’t that 'smart

Imperfect. My parents won’t... It’s not right. I shouldn’t