Untouched A Cedar Cove Novella

great.”
    I take the turn out to my house, trying to ignore the other stuff my sister said about Juliet.
    She’s a summer girl. That means she’s leaving.
    Maybe we could be different, I argue with myself, silent as Juliet hums along with the radio. Maybe we could be long-distance, while she’s still in school, and then…
    Then what? A cruel voice mocks. You’ve known this girl ten days. You think she’s going to give up her future, after just a few kisses?
    For someone like you?
    I tense. Today was like a perfect bubble, where the real world didn’t exist, but now, driving down the same old streets in the same old town, reality comes crashing back with all its doubts and cruel whispers.
    “You OK?”
    I turn. Juliet is looking at me, her forehead creased in a frown.
    “Fine.” I lie. “Great. Just wondering if we’ve got any groceries in the house.”
    “We’ll manage something.” She beams at me, happiness radiating from her whole body. I want to bottle it, drink it down, anything to stop my doubts raging to the surface and ruining this day.
    But when I turn down my driveway and see a beat up old Nissan slung, doors open, in front of the house, I know, the day is already ruined.
    “Stay in the truck,” I growl at Juliet.
    “Why? What’s going on?”
    I reply, I just scramble down from the cab and charge across the front lawn.
    The front door is wide open. I stride into the house, fists already clenched at my sides. And there he is: Artie Keller, the low life piece of junkie trash. The man who got my mom hooked into all this misery in the first place. He’s got his back turned to me, trying to lift our shitty-ass excuse for a TV from the console.
    I cross the distance between us in a few short strides and smash his face with a hard right hook. He reels back, blood spurting from his nose. “What the fuck are you doing in my house?!” I roar.
    I grab him by the throat, shoving him up against the wall. Artie gasps for air, his beady eyes bugging out of his head. “Well?” I yell, shoving him back again. His skull bounces against the plyboard, and I hear the crack with grim satisfaction. Blood is pounding in my ears, and all I can think is how much pain this sniveling excuse for a man has caused this family, how easy it would be to end him for good.
    “Stop!”
    I hear a yell behind me, but I don’t turn. I slam Artie against the wall again, watching the blood gush down his face. When I was younger, he seemed so big, but now he’s nothing in my grip, skin and bones.
    “Emerson, stop!” There’s a hand on my arm, pulling me away. I finally drop Artie and he crumples to the ground.
    I turn, breathing hard, expecting Brit or Juliet.
    But it’s my mom. Tired, and strung out, eyes wide with horror.
    She lets out a sob, and pushes past me, going down on her knees by Artie’s bloody body. “What did you do?” she cries.
    “What…?” I’m reeling. “What are you talking about? Mom, he was stealing our stuff! Why did you even let him in?” My rage flares brighter. “Did he hurt you?” I demand. “Are you OK?”
    She ignores me and fusses over him, whimpering apologies. “I’m sorry, baby, I’m so so sorry.”
    Artie groans, still conscious. She helps him to his feet.
    That’s when I see the duffel bag by the door. The box filled with photo frames and junk.
    I stumble back. The truth is so clear, I should have seen it coming. I’m so fucking stupid.
    “You’re leaving.” I say, voice thick with disgust. I stare between them: mom, looking away from me, ashamed and broken. And Artie, sneering. Smug.
    “Sorry, kid,” he drawls. “Guess she couldn’t stay away from me.”
    Fury blazes again, and I move to smash his face in. Mom blocks me, hands to my chest, pushing me back.
    “Please, baby, no!” she cries. “Don’t be like this!”
    “How the fuck else am I supposed to be?” I yell, powerless and hating it. I can’t believe she’s defending him, this worthless piece of garbage.
    That she’s choosing him. Over us.
    Mom doesn’t speak. She helps Artie to the door.
    Leaving.
    Pain splinters through me, so sharp I can hardly breathe. “What am I supposed to tell Brit?” I demand. “Or Ray Jay? What about them? They’re still just kids!”
    Mom turns back with a sob. “I’m sorry, but I can’t… I just can’t. Staying here, letting you all down. I can’t do it anymore. It’s for the best, you have to see that.”
    “Don’t worry, kid.” Artie sneers at me.