Page 11 of Run
“Look at me, Ari. Are you OK? Did Axel hurt you?”
I can’t answer. I don’t want to lie to Ethan, but I don’t want him to know the truth, either. That, yes, Papa hurt me, but he did it because he loves me. Ethan won’t understand. No one ever does.
Ethan lets out a sigh behind me as his hands grip my shoulders and he attempts to turn me to face him. “Ari, look at—”
But I pull free and break into a sprint. “Ari! Wait!” Ethan yells behind me. But he doesn’t even attempt to follow. He knows he can’t catch me if I don’t want him to.
And today, I don’t want him to.
CHAPTER 4
ARI
Flipping the grilled cheese sandwiches, I hear the door open and quickly turn, relieved to see it’s not Axel.
“Hey.” Lena kicks off her shoes and flops down onto the couch. “Tables were nonstop today, but the tips were great.”
Lena’s a waitress at a pub in the city. She must be good at it because Papa says she makes “good money.” I’m sure it also helps that she’s very pretty, with sandy blonde hair that falls over her shoulders and a face that doesn’t need makeup.
“Whatcha makin? Smells good.”
“Just grilled cheese sandwiches and chicken noodle soup,” I say a little too cheerily, trying to hide my nerves. “I saw we had a few cans in the cupboard, and I thought it would be good on this cold day.”
“Mmmm, that sounds great. I just have to change.”
Hearing her footsteps recede down the hallway, I blow a gust of air through tight lips.
I got into a fight at school today. It wasn’t even my fault. Ever since I started at the middle school, Elena and her stupid friends began targeting me and they never let up. And I just know if Papa finds out, there will be hell to pay. I’ve managed to stay out of his hair these past few months since the carnival, but this will surely push his buttons.
Quickly scooping the sandwiches off the frying pan before they burn and putting one on a plate in the microwave to keep warm until Papa comes home, I ladle two bowls of soup for Lena and me. I’m just putting them on the table when her phone rings, and she comes jogging down the hallway, ruffling through her purse until she finds it and quickly answers. “Hello? Yes, this is Arlene’s stepmother.”
I drop the spoons in my hand and freeze in front of the table at the sound of my name. Lena spins and locks eyes with me. She’s quiet for a moment, and then says, “Ummhmm …” Then, “I see …” There’s another moment of quiet before she breathes out a sigh. “Was the girl hurt?” Quiet. “OK, I understand … Yes, I’ll tell her to see you first thing in the morning … Thank you.”
Lena ends the call and we stare at each other, but before anything can be said, the door swings open and Papa comes walking in.
“Jesus it’s getting cold,” he says, closing the door behind him. “I hope you’ve got dinner ready. And something warm.”
I swallow as Lena and I continue our stare-off. “I made soup,” I say quietly. “And sandwiches.”
Lena keeps her eyes on me while another silent moment passes, then says—eyes still locked on me, “Yeah, we waited until you got home to eat.” She tosses the phone back into her bag and walks over to the small, square table where our dinnersare plated. She picks up her sandwich and takes a bite, saying, around a mouthful, “Well, am I going to eat alone?”
I snap out of it and turn quickly to grab Papa’s sandwich from the microwave and bring it to the table, then scoop him a bowl of soup. The three of us eat in silence for a while before Lena starts up conversation. “So, Axel, get this: apparently Duke and Jules areoff again.”
Papa lets out a laugh. “Well, there’s a fucking surprise.” He says it in a way that makes me think he’s not actually surprised. And then they take off into a conversation about Lena’s coworkers and I realize she’s not going to tell Papa about the fight.
The rest of the night is surprisingly tolerable as Papa has some beers while he watchesJeopardyandWheel of Fortune, and Lena paints her toenails while I lay in bed and read. Finally, they both go into their bedroom and shut the door. As I drift off to sleep, I think, just maybe, things aren’t going to be so bad.
***
The vibrations of stomping wake me, and I roll over to see Papa swipe a coffee cup off the table, which goes hurling into the cabinet and crashing to the ground, sending brown liquid everywhere.
“Son of a BITCH!” he shouts, slamming a cabinet door so hard I’m surprised it doesn’t come off the hinges. “They think they’re going to stop sending my disability checks, huh? Well, they’ve got another thing coming. I’m gonna go kill those motherfuckers at the government offices.”
He grabs a piece of mail off the table and heads into the kitchen while digging in his pocket and pulling out a lighter. He dangles the piece of paper over the sink as he lights a corner of it, then watches as the flames lick upward until he drops the littleball of fire, and I hear ahissas it extinguishes. “Think you’re just going to send me anoticeand that’s it? Assholes.”
Papa stomps over toward the door and shoves his feet into his boots, then perches on the arm of the couch as he laces them. He finishes the first one, then the second, and freezes.
He sits like that for a moment before barking, “Girl!”
