maltalent (n.)
the negative emotions of wanting injury or harm to befall on someone; a hostile behavior or attitude towards someone considered an enemy
* * *
WHEN Ella and I got home, I went straight to my room to offload my SD card.
I went through the motions robotically. Powering on my computer. Plugging my card in. Dragging the files into my downloads. Copying them onto my hard drive. Deleting the bad pictures.
I tried to push away the sinking feeling in my stomach, but like the scent of smoke, it lingered.
I just couldn't stop thinking about and overanalyzing the way Eli hugged the girl—his girlfriend.
Most importantly, I couldn't figure out why it was bothering me this much. Eli was allowed to have other female friends. It shouldn't have been surprising—hot football players like him usually reveled in the attention.
A crash and whimper broke me out of my thoughts.
I knocked on my mom's bedroom door. "Mom, is everything okay?"
"Yep... I'm fine... Just, ugh, stubbed my toe," she sniffled.
"I'm coming in. Is it okay?"
"Alright," she sighed.
I pushed the door open and found her lying on her back on the floor, eyes red and cheeks puffy. Crumpled tissues were strewn around her blonde hair. Eyes wide and glossy, she made eye contact with me and burst into another round of tears.
"Do you need help getting up?"
She shook her head and lifted herself off the floor. Plopping face-down on the bed, she muffled her sobs with her pillow.
"What's wrong?" I asked, sweeping her tangled hair to the side.
"Your father—"
"My sperm donor," I corrected. There was an astronomical difference. A father cares for his children. A sperm donor is just the person who made the child's life possible. My father didn't give two shits about me, so by default, he was simply a sperm donor.
"Your sperm donor—" hiccup "—is being a jackass."
"Why? Better yet, what did he do now?"
"Doesn't m-matter... Just know he's g-gonna burn in hell... when I'm d-done with him."
"Sounds like a plan." Just name a time and place, and I would be in the front row to watch the show. I would even bring popcorn and make flyers to spread the word.
She blubbered into her pillow, and I started rubbing her back. "Stupid, f-fucking... piece-of-shit Mark Haynes. W-why did I have to marry such a fucking asshole?"
"Are you sure whatever he did doesn't matter? It might help to talk about it."
She shifted and sat upright. A few ragged breaths later, she spoke, "H-he's just changing the story. What a surprise, I k-know. People now think I cheated, and he kicked us out. And someone started a r-rumor declaring that you aren't even his biological daughter."
YOU ARE READING
Because of Haven Beach
Teen Fiction"The moon's really beautiful, if you think about it," I blurted. "Yeah?" he asked, mild amusement and curiosity mingling in his voice. "Yeah," I confirmed. "It's just- there's something about the moon that's ethereal. I don't really know how to desc...
