Page 35 of Under the Waves
Get it under control, Poppy. Stay in control.
“Why do you have to be so difficult? He’s seven, Poppy! You should’ve done something to stop him. Why did you stand there and do nothing?”
You should’ve done something to stop him.
Why did you stand there and do nothing?
You should’ve done something to stop him.
Why did you stand there and do nothing?
Stop. Stop. Stop.
All I saw was white flashing spots in my vision as my head pounded. He had no idea how many times someone had said that to me. My mom spat those words at me like I was ridden with disease, a monster that she wanted no part in raising.
From everyone who saw me in the street, to the war zones that were the school halls, even all the way down to the beach from the commentators’ mouths as they judged me based on the rumors instead of my skills.
My dad was the only one who didn’t speak much that year without Oliver.
No, of course, John Wells didn’t speak after that. He justpunched.
None of their words hurt as much as the ones inside my own head. Over the years, I’d beaten myself down more than they ever could. At this point, I’d be surprised if I made it to my next birthday.
“That wasn’t my fault, Jasper.” I shot back at him because it wasn’t…right? No.I mean,maybe?No. It wasn’t. But maybe I should’ve…
Stop. Stop. Stop.
He let out a steady breath, gritting his teeth. It was like my merepresenceannoyed him. He ran his long fingers through his chestnut brown curls before dropping them down to rub his brow. I would’ve said he looked different, but he didn’t. He looked like the same old idiot I secretly cursed at every surf heat when I was seven.
Well,okay, maybe not the same because his face looked more defined and sharper now, and his gaze held an almost beautiful, lethal coldness that I hadn’t noticed before. The slight Italianaccent he used to have was fainter now, less noticeable.
I’d even say he was more tanned than me. Though, I wasn’t as surprised by that as much as I thought I would’ve been. I hadn’t left my old house in years—the fear of leaving my mom and coming back home to find her blue-tipped fingers draping over the bathtub was too great a risk.
Besides, it wasn’t like I had a strong connection that side of my family. I’d never even met my grandparents. On either side, actually.
Sometimes, I found myself dreaming about knowing them. Having cousins and friends and a life that wasn’t controlled by a string of anxious thoughts in my head that seemed to spiral despite the most basic of tasks.
“Are you even listening to me?”
What happened to you, Jasper?
I shook my head. I didn’t want to know what reasons he had for making me feel like this. It was never justifiable. Not to me.
“Why can’t you take a hint, Wellsy? No one wants you here. Do everyone a favor and leave already.”
No one wants you here.
Do everyone a favor and leave already.
Wellsy.
I hated that nickname. I hated him.
My jaw threatened to fall open, but I clenched my cheeks so hard they began to hurt. I let them hurt. I liked the pain, I deserved it. Like always, I said nothing. I stayed quiet. There was nothing I could say because he had already made his mind up about me from the second we met. He hated me and I hated him. It was as simple as black and white. It was all I had ever known to be true in a world full of lies—Jasper and I would never get along.
Dismissively shaking his head, he didn’t spare me another glance from then on. His brows crossed, almost pained, as he knelt down to Pepe’s level and said something to him that I couldn’t hear from here. His gaze lifted up to mine and the little boy giggled and nodded.
They were talking about me.