Chapter 5

<Jasper Coven>

"Get out of bed, Jasper!" My mom shouts irritably up the stairs.

I sigh and roll over on my side so I can see the time on the clock and gauge how much longer I can sleep. My eyes bulge out of my head when I realize that I have less than 20 minutes to get to school, which is an almost ten-minute drive away.

"Damn it," I grumble and fling back my comforter as I go searching for some clean clothes in my drawer.

I pull on my gray jeans and a navy blue sweatshirt to cover up the bruises that still haven't healed from the last time my dad beat me. I shake my overgrown hair out of my eyes and make sure my string bracelets are expertly placed so as to hide the cuts on my wrists. I exhale deeply and bend over to tie my beat-up Converse. I grab my bag from where I dropped it by the door and walk cautiously down the stairs, car keys swaying from my fingers as I reach the main floor landing.

The first thing I notice when I make my way into the living room is that my dad's awake. He's still seated in his chair, but he's actually alive and breathing. If this is what I wake up to then my day is really going to suck. I walk past him without so much as a sideways glance, my head held high and eyes focused forward. I hear him grunt from behind me, causing my head to whip around, so that I'm facing him. I find him glaring heatedly at me, the look burning my skin. His eyes are bloodshot and he's clutching one side of his head, a headache from his half bottle of tequila last night no doubt.

"Get me some scotch, boy." He grumbles and continues to clutch his head, his eyes painfully squinting shut.

"Is that really such a good idea, sir?" I cross my arms and imitate his previous glare.

"I didn't ask for back sass, boy. Get me the damn scotch."

"I have a name you know." I mutter and turn on my heel as walk out to the kitchen.

My mother gives me a weary look like she doesn't understand why I won't just give him the alcohol.

"He's so hung over he can barely function; I refuse to make him worse than he already is." I state and cross my arms over my chest which earns me a deep sigh from my mom.

"I know, Jasper." She hands me a banana and kisses my forehead.

"Thanks, mom." I say in a sincere voice. "See you after school."

She just nods, but doesn't confirm or deny that as I head out to my truck. I slip inside and rush down the dirt road that will take me to school. I put my foot on the pedal and accelerate way past the legal limit, thanking God that I'm the only one on the road. The school comes into view much quicker than I would've expected and soon enough I'm in the parking lot, just as a teacher comes out to close the gate and trap all the students inside.

The bell rings just as I pull into a park. I mumble a string of profanities under my breath as I grab my bag and run in the front doors of the school. The halls are deserted and my feet on the linoleum of the hallway are the only sounds in the school it seems. I walk towards my French class, which I sadly have every day. I knock on the door and wait for my teacher to let me in. He gives me a stern look and allows me to pass. I ignore the curious glances of my classmates as I sit down in the back, right behind the same girl from yesterday.

"Alors, nous allons parler de les devoirs de hier." My teacher claps his hands to bring us all to attention. "Je vais passer et les vérifer maintenant."

I take out my binder and search for my homework as the girl turns around. I look up and catch her soft brown eyes gazing at me, her head tilted slightly as if she's trying to figure me out.

"Can I help you?" I snap and pull out my homework sheet.

"No, I'm just thinking." She says gently, a smile playing on her lips.

"Can you not stare at me when you do?" I narrow my eyes, confusion clouding my expression.

"Why are you always so angry all the time?" She asks quietly, her eyes still fixed on mine.

"You wouldn't understand, even if I wanted to tell you." I mumble and tap my pencil on the busted desk I'm sitting at.

Why can't she just leave me alone?

"Try me," She smiles and tilts her head further towards me. "You might be surprised."

Thankfully our teacher comes to check our homework and stops me from making a rude comment to the girl.

"Callie, ta devoir?" Mr. Klein, our French teacher, says with a stern glance.

She turns around and pulls out her half-completed homework.

"Je n'ai pas compris les devoirs, Mr. Klein." The girl, Callie, admits with her eyes focused directly on our teacher. "Je suis désolée."

"Il serait bien vous servir si vous faites attention à la leçon et arrêter de flirter avec Mr. Coven." Mr. Klein shakes his head and moves on to collect my homework.

You're not making things any better, Mr. Klein...

Callie blushes and sinks down low in her chair as a few guys next to her whistle. I'd tell them to screw off, but I've already talked too much for one day. I stare dead ahead and avoid looking at anyone except my teacher for the rest of class.

~~~~~

The bell rings and I immediately stand up, ready to leave. I shove my notebook into my bag and begin to walk down the aisle towards the front door of the classroom. I almost reach it before I feel a hand on my shoulder. I turn around and see a pair of brown eyes staring back at me. The girl behind the eyes has a wicked grip on my shoulder and probably won't let me go until I hear her out.

"I'm really sorry about yesterday; I didn't mean for you to take it as seriously as you did. I was just joking around and trying to make you smile cause I thought you were just in a bad mood. I swear I was only attempting to see if I could fix it, but I didn't mean to offend you. I guess all problems can't be solved with a smile." Callie says and laughs a little.

Her apology has caught me completely off-guard, however. In my world, apologies are almost unheard of. My parents don't apologize to me or each other for anything. People in school don't apologize to me when they bump into me or insult me; they just move on like it was nothing.  In fact, apologies are so unheard of that I don't even know how to respond.

  I guess it never really crossed my mind that there are actually people out there that still know how to apologize.  

"It was nice of you to apologize, but I'm still livin' in hell and no amount of your positivity can cure that." Her face sinks at my response, but I walk away before she has time to continue the conversation.

I hear her rush to catch up with me, but I walk much faster and eventually lose her. I take a seat in the back of my math classroom where my teacher is busy writing something on the board. The bell rings and my teacher turns to face us, but not before handing me a pink slip from the school psychologist.

"Jasper, you may go now. She'll be waiting for you in her office." My math teacher pats my shoulder and then begins to collect the homework from last night.

I stand up and grab my bag from where I stashed it underneath the desk. The slip becomes crumpled in my hand as I walk towards Ms. Evans office. I knock twice and she comes to the door almost immediately.

"Why do you insist upon interuptin' all of my classes? I'm never gonna get out of this town if I'm not smart enough to do anything with my life." I snap and take a seat on the leather chair in her office while she closes the door behind me.

"Jasper, we have two sessions every week and your teachers are well-aware of that. They know that you come here on Tuesdays and Thursdays, so they prepare all of your missed lessons for you." Ms. Evans sighs as she takes a seat in the chair across from me.

"I didn't want to talk last time and I don't want to this time." I say quietly and drop my bag next to the chair.

"Jasper, you can't hide forever." Ms. Evans muses and scribbles some things down on her yellow legal notepad.

"I can try." I respond through gritted teeth.

"That's not healthy." Ms. Evans reasons and looks at me curiously.

I'm not some experiment for you to poke and prod until I crack.

"Neither is the situation I'm living in, but what can you do?" I shrug and roll my eyes at her.

"If you tell me what's going on in your life then I can try and help you." Ms. Evans pleads as she leans forward in her chair. "That's what I'm here for."

"I don't want to talk about it." I grumble, my eyes more narrowed than before.

"You can't keep it bottled up; if you won't open up to anyone else, at least open up to me. I promise I will do everything I can to help." Ms. Evans reiterates, her eyes focused on mine.

"You can't do anything; no one can. I have been coming to you since you called me in freshman year when my brother told you I was cutting myself and nothing has changed. My dad is still a good-for-nothing drunk that beats me and my mom senseless and makes us wonder why we're still living. My mom won't leave my dad and there's no way for me to get out without her. I'm stuck in hell and there's nothing anyone can do to get me out." I shout and have a sudden urge to break all of the framed degrees on her wall.

"Continue on, Jasper. This what I have been getting at; you can't keep all of your frustration bottled up." Ms. Evans exclaims and gestures for me to finish ranting.

I don't rant on command or for your enjoyment; I just couldn't stand being underneath your microscope anymore and I blew my top.

"That was a mistake; I'm sorry." I apologize solemnly and grip the arm of the chair until my knuckles turn a sickly shade of white.

"No, Jasper, I will not let you close off again." Ms. Evans states as if she has any real authority over that.

"And how exactly are you going to make me open up?" I tilt my head and wait for her response.

"We're going to sit here in silence until you start talking again." Ms. Evans says while crossing her arms.

Great tactic for someone with a PhD in making people talk...

"I could sit here all day; I wasn't really feeling that into school anyway." I narrow my eyes and lean back in my chair.

"That's quite an attitude coming from someone who's adamant about changing their circumstances." Ms. Evans muses as she continues to stare at me with her understanding gaze.

She always looks like she knows something about me that I don't and that makes me extremely uncomfortable.

"What happened to the silent part of this little exercise?" I ask without really expecting an answer.

"I'm just trying to figure you out, Jasper; you're quite full of contradictions for someone so young." She says in a slow drawl.

"I've seen more awful things than people twice my age." I mutter, but instantly regret it because I've now opened up another floodgate for conversation.

"Like what?" She asks gently, even though she knows I'm not going to give her a proper answer.

"You're not going to get it out of me that easy." I respond expertly and give her a challenging look.

"I think I've been working pretty hard for the last four years; doesn't that warrant some sort of understanding? Don't I deserve to know some things after these four years, Jasper?" Ms. Evans looks at me pleadingly from behind her glasses.

"Aren't you people taught not to push your patients?" I snap, artfully avoiding her previous question.

"Sweetie, I know when I'm pushing too hard. You're a tough kid; I'll know when I've pushed you over the edge." Ms. Evans comments easily and then we fall into silence.

"I've seen what happens when love falls apart. My mom is still madly in love with my dad, even though he doesn't deserve it, but their whole relationship is one-sided. My dad can't love my mom anymore, he can't love anything except for the alcohol he's become so dependent on. I've watched him spiral out of control and my mom just lets is happen because she doesn't know how to stand up to him. She says she's staying with him because of the commitment she made when she married him, but I think she's afraid of what would happen if she left." I sigh and reveal something I've been holding onto for years.

"Why is she afraid?" Ms. Evans asks, trying her hardest to contain her excitement that I'm finally reaching out.

"He's dependent on the alcohol and she's dependent on him. She's afraid of being alone and of breaking her promise, even though she knows deep down that that promise died a long time ago. This town is also extremely small and she wouldn't have one foot in the door of a new residency before my dad found her again; he may be a useless drunk, but he ain't dumb." I say with disgust.

"How does it make you feel that she won't leave him?" Ms. Evans voice is calm and collected, her normal psychologist voice.

"Frustrated. It's like I can see what he's doing to her, but she's too blinded by the past to ever admit it. I try with everything I have to convince her that it'd be best for her to leave, but it always turns into another lecture about the commitment she shouldn't have to keep. It's not only her life she's risking by staying with him; it's my life too. I'm getting beat-up and live in constant fear of my own father, but she just won't gather up the courage to go. I can't leave without her and I can't let her stay alone with him." I huff and cross my arms angrily.

"So, you want to save your mom?" Ms. Evans asks, mostly for clarification than anything else.

"You can't save someone who doesn't want to be saved." I retort and glance at Ms. Evans through narrowed eyes.

"Sometimes things run deeper than they appear." She muses in a gentle voice.

"It makes me feel like she loves him more than she loves me. She's staying with the man who's hurting both of us and no matter what he does to me, she always finds a reason to stay." I say quietly, my mouth suddenly becoming dry.

"Jasper," I look up at the sound of my name, waiting for whatever she's going to say. "do you think that maybe your mom just wants to keep her family together?"

"It's not much of a family where my dad is involved; we're barely people who live together." I mumble and stare down at my ripped jeans. "We don't love each other, but my mom keeps pretending that someday maybe we will."

"You don't want that?" Ms. Evans looks at me in the same curious way she uses when she's trying to 'figure me out', whatever that means.

"I don't think it's possible. I've watched my mom be torn apart trying to make us a family and after what happened to my brother..." I shudder as memories of last year's tragedy cross my mind.

Ms. Evans doesn't push me and instead sits in silence while I try to find the words to continue on.

"She gave up. She didn't have the energy to continue fighting a losing battle." I finish and exhale a deep breath.

"How did you feel after what happened to your brother?" Ms. Evans inquires in a cautious way as if she's trying to keep my inevitable anger at bay.

"Like there was no reason to continue on." I state simply.

She knows I don't like talking about this.

A bell rings in the distance and I take a look at the clock which tells me that I've been sitting in Ms. Evans office for two class periods.

"You should probably get to lunch, Jasper. We'll continue this next time." Ms. Evans gives me a delicate smile as I grab my bag and stand up.

I give her a small nod in return before turning the knob and walking out the door. I melt into the crowd of students that are headed towards the cafeteria. They shout for their friends and jostle me without apologizing as the doors of the cafeteria come into view. I get in the lunch line, grabbing a water bottle and a prepackaged sandwich as I move towards the cashier. I hand her a few folded bills and accept the change before walking out of the cafeteria and towards my favorite spot in the front hallway, right next to the janitor's closet.