Chapter Ten:

I excused myself after Matt and I got back to the Baker residence. I grabbed my now empty duffel bag and my car and bolted. A girl needs clothes and I happen to be running low on threads. Even though, I have enough to last me during the week, the excuse to clear my head was welcomed.

So much has been happening, so fast. It’s hard to keep up with everything and not get whiplash. I’m used to a fast-paced life. Hell, I’m a New Yorker, born and raised. Sure, I’ve moved around a ton, but that seems to be the one place that I always bounce back too. I like it there. It’s busy and it’s easy to become invisible.

Sometimes, when things get rough, solitude is what I crave. It’s soul-quenching in a way. I can step back and blend in with the world. Sometimes, watching everything else go on gives me clarity.

There’s so much bullshit and violence that pollutes the world. It’s hard to see the beauty and kindness is everyday monotony. That’s something that I’ve always struggled with. It’s not hard for me to fall back into my melancholy funk, so I try my best to avoid it. It’s not easy. I’ve learned techniques that make it easier to cope with.

For a while, I just thought I was depressed. I figured that explained why I sometimes flew off the rails and had wicked mood swings that I couldn’t control. It turns out that was only half of my problem. I’m also bipolar, which is something I now know.

When I first found out, it scared the hell out of me. When the doc told me, all I heard was someone else calling me crazy. The word tore through me and etched itself deep into my brain. I was the crazy chick and my diagnosis was proof.

My mother wanted to write it off as another problem of mine. She didn’t want to deal with it. Instead, she had her current sugar daddy through money at the problem and dosed me up with whatever prescriptions she could, so I wouldn’t get in her way. If I was quiet and didn’t cause her problems, she was happy. For awhile, she got what she wanted.

After a few months, I overdosed on all the pills I was taking. She didn’t really seem to care, but her brother chewed her out and took me to the ER. I don’t really remember much, but that’s what I’ve been told. It was a wake-up call, to me, anyway. She stopped pushing meds on me and actually paid attention to me for a while.

I knew that I couldn’t keep living my life to try to please her, so I stopped. I quit coming home a lot of the time. I stayed with friends on the street and they became my family. It was easy. You steal what you need and you stay in abandoned tunnels near the old subways. People don’t ask too many questions if they don’t know you.

I stayed in school and kept my grades up. My teachers didn’t have any reason to talk to my mother and I kept it that way. Sure, sometimes I ended up home, but most of the time, I was elsewhere. It was easier that way. Without all of the medicine to numb the pain, I had too much time to reflect on all of the bullshit that my mother dragged me through throughout my life. That’s something I couldn’t reminisce in. That’s a trigger.

I’m getting better at telling when an episode is starting and it’s not something I can change. I can take medicine to play it down some, but it won’t stop me from being bipolar. It makes relationships difficult. A lot of people don’t understand or want to deal with the complications that come with dating me. I can’t say that I blame them, but it gets lonely.

I didn’t think I’d like California – at all. But, I’m coming around. The people here are proving to be pretty great. It’s not the place that makes it home, it’s the people. That’s something I’ve always tried to remember.

I jumped when I heard the doorbell. I was so transfixed in my thoughts that I wasn’t really paying attention to what I was packing. I went downstairs and opened the door.

“I’ve got a delivery for Lydia Wolf.” The delivery man announced. I nodded.

“I’m Lydia.” I answered, lamely. He shot me a brief grin and handed me a clipboard and paper to sign. I signed it and returned it to him.

“Here you are.” He handed me a manila envelope.

“Thank you.” I told him, taking the package.

“Have a nice day.” He waved as he walked away.

“You do the same.” I mumbled as I closed the door. There’s no return address. That’s weird. I ripped it open and a letter fell out. I started to read it.

Dearest Lydia,

Our last encounter was so disappointing. I had high hopes about seeing you again, Pumpkin. Lynn assured me that you would be more than willing to make it up to me. There’s no need to involve the authorities. After all, it will be your word against mine and that wouldn’t hold up in court. Save yourself the embarrassment and humor an old friend – won’t you?

I miss you. No one makes me feel the way you do… I will be seeing you again soon.

If you even think about bringing your little friend along, then I may have to suggest to your mother that you’ve missing your father. I remember the stories you used to tell me about him. I remember all of the bruises he used to give you that colored your skin.

Sweet dreams and kisses,
Derek

Xo Xo

I dry heaved and crumbled the letter and clenched it in my fist. I locked up the door and ran upstairs. I dropped it in my purse, unable to bring myself to throw it away. Fuck him! I sat down on my bed and dug my nails into my palms. I felt rage course through my veins. I’m so fucking tired of being a victim. It’s not fair. It’s not right. I’m not doing it anymore. I won’t. I refuse. I’m not that girl anymore.

I stood up and grabbed my bags and my keys. I feel restless. The need to do something completely reckless is growing by the second. The last time I felt this way, things got hairy, fast. I grabbed my pills off of my desk and dry-swallowed two. That should keep me somewhat at bay.

I left the house and locked up behind me. I got in my car and sat there. What to do? My fingers drummed on my steering wheel, anxiously. I kept staring at my arm. I could get a tattoo. It’ll hurt and it’ll take a while. That’ll kill two birds with one stone. I don’t have many, but I have the beginnings of a sleeve on my right arm and some ink littering the right side of my torso. Yeah, I’ll do that. There’s supposed to be a decent artist not too far from here.

I sighed and pulled out my cell. I should text the guys, so they don’t worry.

Getting some ink done. I’ll catch up with you guys after. Don’t wait up.
-Lydia

I didn’t have to wait long for a response.

I didn’t realize you were such a badass. Let me know when you’re about done. I’ll come check it out. ;P
-Brian

PS-I’m down to kiss away any residual pain. ;)

I scanned his response before throwing my phone into my purse.

---

I scanned the sketches that Scottie, the artist drew up. These are great. I’m a Tim Burton junkie. My arm is proof of that. My growing sleeve is a mix of Tim Burton characters and lyrics. “These are fucking fantastic. Can we get started?” I asked Scottie. He grinned.

“Sure thing – come on back, little lady.” He led me to his chair. “This is going to take a while.” He warned.

“That’s fine with me. This isn’t my first time.”

“I see that.” He chuckled. I okayed the tattoo placement and closed my eyes as he started tattooing. This is better than a lot of things I could be doing – at least this won’t get me killed.

---

“Alright doll, we’re done. Wanna take a look?” He asked me as he wiped off the excess ink. I nodded, enthusiastically.

“You bet your ass I do!” I told him, bouncing from the chair. I rushed over to the mirror and looked at my newest additions. I squealed as I looked at my arm. I now have a miniature Edward Scissorhands, Jack Skeleton and Sally gracing my skin, along with some lyrics.

“Am I too late?” Brian asked as he walked back with Jimmy. I shook my head and showed him my arm.

“That looks sick! I didn’t even know you had ink.” Brian exclaimed. Jimmy chuckled and held my arm, gingerly.

“This is badass.” He agreed.

“Thank-a-you.” I sang, smiling.

“What song are these from?” He asked me, gesturing to my tattoo.

“‘I need some peace of mind – no fear of what’s behind.’ That’s from Had Enough by Breaking Benjamin. ‘You don’t wanna hurt me, but see how deep the bullet lies. Unaware that I’m tearing you asunder and there’s a thunder in our hearts, baby.’ That one is Running up that Hill by Placebo.” I answered. He nodded.

“What inspired the sudden ink?” Brian asked me, as I paid Scottie. I tipped him handsomely.

“Thanks doll, come back and see me soon.” He smiled, pulling me in for a quick hug. I nodded.

“I’ll definitely be back soon. I wanna finish my sleeve up.” I assured him. “Take care.” I told him as the boys walked me out. “I just had to go out and do something.” I answered Brian’s earlier question.

“Why?” He asked me, pulling me aside.

“I’ll let you two talk.” Jimmy told us, smirking and excusing himself. I sighed.

“What’s going on with you?” He asked me.

“Who said anything’s going on with me?” I countered.

“Don’t play games with me.” He sighed. He sees right through me, already. It’s crazy how well he reads my body language.

“To say that it’s been a shitty night would be a massive understatement. I can’t control my mood swings, sometimes. I need to lash out and do something crazy. A tattoo is something I can control and keeps me occupied for a while.”

“Why?” He asked me.

“I’m bipolar, Brian. Don’t pretend like you didn’t hear my conversation with my mother the other day. I know that you and Zacky both overheard us.” I told him, pointedly. He looked taken aback and nodded, slowly.

“Yeah, I remember, now. It’s not something I have a lot of experience with. I didn’t know.” He whispered.

“I didn’t expect you to. If I flip out on you, try not to take it seriously. Okay? I was trying to avoid everybody for awhile. I took my meds, but it’s still been a hard day.”

“Did something set it off?” He asked me, softly. I looked down at my feet, purposely avoiding his gaze. “You can talk to me, Lydia.” He whispered.

“I know I can. It’s just… it’s not something that I really want to talk about.” I told him.

“Will not talking about it make it worse?”

“I got a letter from Derek, okay?”

“Did he hurt you?” He asked. I could see the hostility radiating from his skin. I shook my head.

“I didn’t see him. He had it delivered. It was a threat. There’s nothing you can do. It’s not your fight. Okay? I doubt he’d try anything while my mother is out of town, anyway.”

“Bull-fucking-shit. You’re not taking that chance.”

“It’s not up to you.” I argued.

“You should tell the cops.”

“You want me to snitch? It’s hearsay. I don’t have any proof! I have one letter! What will that prove?” I asked him. He didn’t say anything. “It wouldn’t do any good!”

“You should at least file a complaint. That way it’ll be on their records.”

“It’s not a good idea.”

“Then, tell Doug. He’s connected. He’ll help.”

“I don’t need him to fight my battles.”

“If you don’t tell him, I will.” He vowed. I rolled my eyes.

“Why do men have to be so fucking macho?! I don’t need you to save me! Is it because I’m small? Or because I’m a woman?! You can’t control me! We’re not even fucking together! You need to back to fuck off!” I seethed. He kept calm.

“You don’t mean it and I’m not going to back off. I care about you.” He pulled me into his arms and I felt the fight slide out of my body. I relaxed and caged some of my aggression.

“I care about you, too. I’m sorry. I can’t always control it.” I apologized.

“Don’t apologize.” He murmured.

“I don’t like it, but we can talk to Doug. I just – I don’t want to tell him tonight. Let me have tonight, please?” I pleaded. It came out more as a question.

“Of course,” he agreed. He leaned down and captured my lips with his. My eyes fluttered closed and I kissed him back. I grasped his shoulder and his neck. He cupped my ass and lifted me up, bringing me closer to him. I groaned and deepened the kiss.

I’m not sure how long we stayed in our embrace. Eventually, we both pulled away, needing air. I let go of him and he put me down. I looked away from him and mentally kicked myself. For someone who isn’t pursuing a relationship, I’m doing a shitty job of doing so.

“We have to stop making a habit out of that.” I breathed. He smirked.

“I’m fine with making a habit out of that.” He placed his hands on the small of back and pulled me to him. “I like the way you taste.” He whispered in my ear.

“I’m not ready for a relationship, Brian.” I told him.

“I’m not asking for one, Ace.”

“It’ll make things complicated.”

“I’m a big boy. I can handle being friends with benefits.” He argued.

“Yeah, until one of us gets too attached and things get weird… it’s a bad idea.”

“Think on it, Ace.” He requested. I nodded before I could stop myself. I wanted to kick myself for loving the way ‘Ace’ sounds on his tongue and for jonesing for his mouth. God, I need to get another fucking tattoo before I complicate anything else. It’s going to be a long, fucking night. Someone pinch me.

Notes

Music/Lyric Credit:
"Had Enough" by Breaking Benjamin
"Running up that Hill" by Placebo/Kate Bush

Yeah, SO, my mind pretty much just started running away from me as I was writing this. New chapters soon - the love triangle is beginning the weave its web! Comments? Votes? Subscribe?

Much love,
Katie