Chapter 18 - Wakely

As soon as I heard his brothers, I froze for the briefest moment. When Waylon turned, I bolted. I knew that that wasn’t the bravest thing to do. But as the saying goes, ‘choose your battles wisely.’ And this was not a time to fight them.  

The interactions between me and Waylon’s brothers had something left to be desired. Or rather, their girlfriends. They were the embodiment of mean girl attitude, and I didn’t have time for that.

But the way that Waylon turned and blocked me from his oncoming brothers was like he was jumping on a grenade to protect me. I appreciated it. But it was unnecessary.

I weaved my way through the crowd and found Cora talking to a tall, lanky boy who barely looked old enough to go here.

“Oh hey, where did you go, Wake?” Cora asked in her normal excited tone.

“One of my professors waved me over to talk to another student.” I shrugged. I wasn’t about to tell her who, because that would give her fuel for the already raging inferno of her making me hook up with someone.

And if she knew that that other student was Waylon Walker, she would have been amped up and ready for me to hook up with him.

It wasn’t going to happen. I was still determined as ever to not have that happen.

“Are they already trying to swindle you into tutoring? The semester hasn’t even started.” Cora said with an exasperated sigh.

“Not exactly. He just wanted to introduce me to another student since I transferred here.”

“Oh, well that was nice,” Cora said. “How rude of me, this is Toby. He’s an art major too.”

I smiled at the boy. That was one thing I didn’t know about Cora, she was an art major. That made a lot of sense though. I don’t think she would have done too well with the constraints of engineering or rather any other major that didn’t allow her to be creative.

“Hi,” he said with a little wave.

I couldn’t focus on what else they were talking about. I was too invested in watching Waylon interact with his brothers. He looked tense, his face was hard, and his hands were clenched at his sides.

I could practically feel the tension radiating from him across the garden.

Our conversation didn’t start as anything important. But in the end, I felt like it was going somewhere before his brothers came.

I felt connected to him now. That was a dangerous thing to think about, but I did. Probably the worst thing to feel connected about. But I couldn’t afford to be distracted this year. My sole focus was on studying. I gave a determined sharp nod.

No matter how hard I tried to focus on the conversation Cora and I think his name was Tim…that didn’t sound right, my mind drifted back to my conversation with Waylon.

He told me about his mom. We were closely connected because both of our moms got sick. I knew that I wasn’t there for most of it, but one of the last memories I had of her was when she was lying in a hospital bed, frail. I went up to hug her and she winced in pain.

That shit was going to stick with me for the rest of my life.

I only got to stay for a minute. I didn’t get to talk to her or say my goodbyes. The next day she was gone.

I remembered crying and asking where mom was, but no one responded. It was as if I wasn’t there. Without my mom there to protect me, that gave my father fuel to abuse me. I didn’t understand why though.

I was a kid, I just thought I was bad and deserved it. I did my best to make myself as small as possible.

I would hide out in my room, the housekeeper would bring my food. I didn’t invite anyone over to play and I never went anywhere. I was alone. And I think that’s what my father wanted. He wanted to isolate me…but I never knew why.

That lasted all through high school until it was time for me to apply to college. By then my dad’s company skyrocketed and he didn’t stay around the house very much anymore. Taking random trips and returning in the middle of the night.

I preferred being alone. I could do what I wanted and not worry about the repercussions. Then I had to make my way into the scene, since my dad was famous I was now famous. And I hated it.

I dyed my hair and applied to college with my mother’s maiden name to avoid people realizing who I was.

But it didn’t work.

At least I got into a prestigious engineering university as far as I could get away. When I arrived in another country away from my dad, it felt like I could breathe for the first time since my mother died.

For two whole years, I attended the school in Seoul. I made friends for what felt like the first time, I joined groups and did movie nights with them.

But after my Sophomore year, my dad pulled me from Seoul and bought my way into this school. I was furious. There was nothing I could do. He was the one who paid for it, so I had to do what he said.

I was trapped until I graduated. My mother gave me a trust that was set to distribute assets when I turned twenty-two. I turned twenty-two in April. Just a few short months away. I was so close to freedom that I could taste it.

She wanted me to have that money to do what I wanted. It was a lot of money, and it would allow me to do just that.

She said that my father would help me through college, and then after that money would be mine. But I didn’t think she foresaw that he was going to start being abusive.

No one did.

I missed my mom. She was warm, kind, and beautiful. Everyone said that I looked exactly like her. And I could only assume that that was why my father hated me. Because I looked like her, and he hated the reminder.

I shook my head to bring myself back to the present. It hurt to think about my mom and how she died. The aching in my heart was always there, but it hurt worse when I thought about her.

So I was going to force myself to think about something else. Someone else.

Waylon…I just hoped that he didn’t need to live through what I did.

I sent that silent prayer up because even though I didn’t know him all that well and even though my first impression of him wasn’t that great, he did seem like a decent person.

I watched as he walked away with his brothers. He turned to me before he exited the garden. I chewed on my bottom lip, he gave me a nod, and then left.

What did that mean?

Why was he always smirking at me or nodding?

It was like he knew something that I didn’t, and I didn’t like that. I was one of the brightest people in my old school and having him constantly doing shit like that threw me for a loop.

“Did you hear me?” Cora asked.

I averted my attention back to the conversation that I hadn’t heard. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t paying attention.”

Cora rolled her eyes at me. “We were talking about the courses we were taking. And I asked you what classes you were taking this semester. I don’t think we ever talked about that.” She laughed.

“Oh, I’m in the engineering program and taking an art class and a Latin class to keep me sane.” I shrugged.

“Oh, which art class? Maybe we will be in the same one.” Cora clapped her hands.

“Ceramics one-oh-one.”

Cora’s face fell. “No, I already took it. But it was fun.”

“That’s what I was hoping for. I needed a fun course that was different from my other classes.”

The honesty in that statement was palpable. All of my courses were difficult and had a lot of labs and homework. I wanted something that could relieve my stress and didn’t require a lot of brain power.

I wasn’t about to say that last part out loud, though. I knew that art was difficult, but creating something with my hands felt different.

“Let me know if you need any help,” Cora said.

She was so sweet. I was surprised that she had a hard time making friends. Sure, she was quirky, but she was kind. And loyal. And everything that a friend should be.

“Thank you,” I said with a nod. “You know what…I’m not feeling great. I think I’m going to go take a nap.”

It wasn’t necessarily a lie. I was exhausted. The dream that I had last night affected me more than it should have. And then my interactions with him today had me spiraling.

I wanted to go back to my room, veg out in front of the TV, and just lie down. Ever since coming here, it didn’t feel like I had time to relax. And that was what I needed.

The next few days were filled with activities for each class. I honestly didn’t feel like going to any of them, but I knew that Cora wanted to go. And with her being my new best friend and all. I felt obligated to go.

“Okay, let me know if you need anything,” Cora said as she patted my shoulder.

“Will do.” I smiled at her and waved at…Tom? That didn’t sound right either. And walked away.

I took a few deep breaths as I walked around people who were making their way to the garden. The students all looked so happy and excited to start another year. They already had their friend groups, and I was left to start all over.

My phone buzzed in my purse. I pulled it out, and my heart dropped at who was on the screen. “Hello?”

“What took you so long to answer?” My father’s voice sounded strained.

“My phone was in my purse. Sorry.”

“Next time, answer sooner.” He snapped at me.

“I will.” I couldn’t tell him it wasn’t guaranteed. That would only piss him off more and I didn’t want that. Who knew what else he would do if I said that?

“I’m calling to remind you not to embarrass me.”

His words were a knife to the heart. Of course, that was the only reason why he would call me. Not to say good luck or I love you. Those thoughts were wishful thinking. Even though I have had years and years of abuse, I still hoped.

“I won’t. I promise. I’m going to keep my head down and study.” That was the plan, at least that wasn’t a lie.

“Make sure that you do.” Without a goodbye, he hung up.

I stared at my phone. Every time I talked to him, I always felt like crying. It made me feel like I wasn’t enough, and no matter what I did, it didn’t matter. I was just the daughter that he no longer wanted.

A constant reminder of his wife that he lost so many years ago. I bet he would have been happier if I were the one who died instead of his wife.

I swallowed hard. Tears started to well up in my eyes. I wasn’t going to cry in public. If that got back to my father, he would be furious.

I ran the rest of the way back to my dorm and slammed the door behind me. I let the tears fall. I was safe to do that here. No one could see, I could be myself.

I carefully took off the dress that Cora gave me. It was beautiful and I didn’t want to ruin it even when I was sobbing.

I grabbed my sweats and tank top and threw them on. I scrubbed the makeup that Cora demanded that I wear off my face. Once I was clean, I dove into my bed and curled up there.

I knew that feeling bad for myself wasn’t going to do anything. But I could allow myself to feel bad for five minutes, and then I was going to turn on some trashy television and try to take a nap.

The tears stopped in less than five minutes. I was proud of myself. I had years to get used to what my father did to me. It sounded bad that I got used to the verbal and physical abuse, but I did.

I flicked on the television. The university provided cable, and I was grateful for that. I wished that I had some snacks so I could properly veg out.

Instead, I snuggled up and stared at the television screen, being swept away into drama that I wasn’t involved in. It was the best way to distract myself.

Even though every few minutes, my mind wandered back to Waylon and how he turned and nodded to me before he left.

It was like he wanted to make sure that he said goodbye or something. I could lie to myself and say that was what he wanted to do. At least for now. Because I needed one thing to make me feel better.

And right now, the only thing that seemed to make me feel better was the thought that Waylon actually liked me. I hoped. I knew better. I shouldn’t let that thought linger. But it did, and I accepted it. For now.