Page 180 of Under the Waves
Do something.
Anything!
Tears pricked in the corners of my eyes as my cheeks flamed, scorching from the phantom touch of her palm. Weak. Weak. Weak.
Dammit, Poppy.
“Get on.”
So I did. I stepped on that scale, and I closed my eyes, and I prayed—I prayed with every fucking bone in my fragile body that number hadn’t changed. Because if it had, she’d punish me, and then she’d get high, and I’d have to stay up all night making sure she didn’t hurt herself. It was routine. After dad left and Oliver died, she focused on me. She hated herself so she punished me too because slowly killing herself just wasn’t enough for her.
She just had to drag me down with her.
I was weighed every night without fail right up until we moved.
I starved myself every day because I was so afraid of what she would do to me if that number rose by even a fraction of a pound.
She…she’d convinced my little, naive mind that dad would never come back if I was even half a pound heavier than the week before. That if I didn’t stick to my meal plan, if I didn’t win gold, if I didn’t cook and clean and mop and sweep and keep up my grades and keep the secrets about the bruises on my body…he’d never come back to us.
The pressure should’ve killed me long ago. I…I was just a kid. I stillwasjust a kid.
Miya and her minions…they ripped me to pieces at school, mom almost killed me each night at home, and the waves, mysafespace…it was gone. I was trapped.
I had nowhere to go.
Not anymore.
Squeezing my hands into fists, I closed my eyes and I breathed.
You’ve fucking got this, Poppy Wells!
But there wasn’t any part of me that believed it.
Pushing open the kitchen door, nothing could’ve prepared me for the scene unfolding before my eyes. Jasper and his mom were smiling widely with patches of flour sprinkled across their cheeks and clothes. Where Jasper stood leaning against the small kitchen cabinets, arms crossed over his bare chest with only a pair of low-hanging, gray sweatpants on, his mother was singing into a wooden spoon that was starting to drip with what appeared to be some sort of cream-colored batter.
The corners of Jasper’s lips tipped upwards as he watched her sing out the lyrics toLove Growsby Edison Lighthouse. Light golden hair floated in the air as she spun around, delicate hands reaching out towards her son in an attempt to encourage him to join her.
“Mamma,” Jasper groaned, still grinning. “Non canto.”
She just smiled at him. In her eyes…she loved her son. She loved him with all her heart.
“Allora balla con me,” she beamed, holding her hand out for him to take.
Begrudgingly, Jasper stood up, trying to hide his smile by shaking his head as she turned the volume of the record player up.
“Le cose che faccio per te, mamma.”
She squeezed his cheeks like he was a little boy. “Ti voglio bene anch’io.”
Jasper just smiled, pressing a kiss to the side of her cheek. “Always.”
She was glowing as she ruffled his hair, conversing with him in Italian that I couldn’t pick up. Despite the dark circles underneath her eyes and the lingering sadness contained within them, she did her best to hide them from her son. To stop him from worrying.
I realized then that I was just as much happy for Jasper as much as I wanted tobeJasper. He hadthat.He hadher.Jasper had the one thing I would never,ever, have.
A bitter taste arose in my throat as I hurriedly swallowed it back down. I didn’t want to be jealous of him, I wanted to feel happy for him. And Idid. I really did, but for some reason, my mind couldn’t let go of the fact that this would never be mine. I would never get to dance around the kitchen as the sun rose, baking with my mother who sung sweet melodies and laughed wholeheartedly with me like I was the funniest little girl in the world.
That I was the only person in her world.