Page 17 of Falling For Alaska

“I’ll come,” I assure her, and she offers me a smile that could warm up a block of ice.

“Bye, Jack,” she says with a breathy voice, tugging a strain of brown hair behind her ear. Tension built between us, like a physical form growing more and more, turning the air so thick it could be cut with a knife.

I take a deep breath, clenching my arms and hoping I’ll never ever mispronounce her name out loud. “Bye, Alaska.” It rolls on my tongue like I've said it a million times in my life. With reluctance, I walk to the car, looking back at her, and when I do, I end up eye to eye with her as she looks at me over her shoulder before disappearing into the store.

Alaska. Sweet, Alaska.

What are you doing to me?

3 years ago

“What are you doing?” Alicia whispers, her brown eyes widening with panic. The suffocating dining room closes in around me, thick with frilly curtains, yellow light, and a dozen too many photos of Alicia’s family plastered across every wall like some shrine. All smiling. Silver cutlery clinks. Her mother hovers, serving food she won’t get to eat. Her father sits smugly at the head of the table, chewing loudly like he owns the world. Meeting the parents of my girlfriend isn’t going like I had imagined.

“I’m…” I drag in a slow breath, clenching my fists under the table as Alicia’s father starts in again, criticizing her for stopping after her Bachelor’s degree, calling her lazy. What does he know? He never even went to college. I’ve been seeing Alicia for six months. I’m not even sure if what I feel for her is real. But if I have to listen to one more word from that guy, I’m going to lose it. The air shifts. My shoulders tighten. I crack my neck, trying to push the rising heat down. A shrink once taught me some tricks for when it builds too much.

Focus on what you see. The curtains. Floral. Every-freaking-where.

Focus on what you hear. His voice. Smug. Loud. Cruel.

Focus on what you feel. The polished wood of the table under my palm.

Focus on a scent. Boiled meat and vinegar. I gag a little.

Still not helping.

“And there she is,” her father booms, cutting into a piece of roast like it offended him. “Late again, coming back from another party, doing God knows what with God knows who-”

“Dad, please.” Alicia blushes, laughing like it’s all fine. “It’s embarrassing.” Nah, it’s not embarrassing. This is abuse.

“We were ashamed, Jack, ashamed. Her mother and I raised her with values. And now? Now she’s out there, drinking, partying like a, pardon my word, honey, a slut-” Crimson. That’s all I see. My chair scrapes against the floor, loud enough to make her mother jump. I stand. My fists hit the table, hard, rattling the plates.

“D-D-Don’t y-you d-dare t-t-talk to her like that,” I growl, the words shattered in my voice. Her father freezes mid-bite.

“You sit down right now, young man!” he barks, tossing his napkin on the table like that’s supposed to mean something. I don’t move. He may have a suit, a wife who obeys, and a big house, but I’m not impressed. I’ve seen power misused before. This is no different.

“Apologize to her,” I say, low but clear. My voice trembles under pressure, but I force it through. “N-Now.”

Alicia grips my wrist. “Stop it,” she whispers. “It’s nothing. You can’t talk to my dad like that.”

I turn to her, stunned. “He-He c-called you a-” I can’t even say it again. My jaw locks. My chest aches.

“Your friend’s cuckoo honey,” her dad sneers on my behalf.

“Sorry, Dad,” she says quickly. “Jack, c-can we talk in the kitchen?” We step away, her parents already whispering behind us like kids passing notes in school. In the kitchen, she spins toward me, arms crossed, eyes hard.

“I’m not okay with what you just did,” she says, with an accusing tone. My heart sinks. I’d wondered for months if she actually liked me. Seems pretty clear now. Her expression says it all. I’m no more than a mistake she doesn’t know how to undo.

“I did what I w-was taught to do,” I tell her, struggling to get the words out. “W-When someone gets hurt, I d-don’t just sit there.”

Her frown deepens. “And what gives you the right? You think you know my parents? You think you can walk in here and just explode like that?”

“He-He humiliated you in front of everyone. C-Called you a-” I stop. “It’s not okay. I c-couldn’t just-” The words break again and my voice falters.

She sighs, folding her arms tighter. “You made me uncomfortable. I didn’t need you to stand up for me like that. I didn’t want my dad to hear you—” She stops, a tense grimace pulling at her face.

Stutter.

She doesn’t have the guts to say it.