Page 50 of Jerk

Click, click.

I hear the flick of a lighter nearby before the smell of tobacco blends with damp earth.

“I told you to leave,” Hannah says, her eyes on the water. “You need to.” She looks pensive. Ashamed.

Tired.

Hannah Alfonso only gives the perception of perfection. That facade is starting to crumble, except it's not in the way I imagined.

“You do too.” I take the pink cigarette out of her hand. “Come on, let’s go.”

“I can’t.” She pulls out another, lighting it.

“You’re not safe here.”

“I can’t leave her.”

“Yes, you can”

“What if he kills her?”

“What if he killsyou?”

“Where else am I supposed to go?” She turns to me, venom in her voice, pain on her red face. “You’re so hellbent on taking everything from me, but this is where I belong. In The Hill. With her. She needs me.”

"She's dismissive and cold." The tip of her cigarette tastes like candy when I bring it to my lips. “She’s a lost cause.”

“She’s just… broken.”

“They all are.”

She searches my eyes, her golden gaze catching the sun. “Rye, what happened to Krystal?”

I’m quick with my answer, still focused on getting her out of here. “My father.”

Silence sits between us, then she begins to laugh. “Are you joking?”

“Why the fuck would I joke about that?”

“This is way too cliche,” she says through her laughter. “Is that why we’re the way we are? Both of our fathers want to beat everyone to shit?”

“He wasn’t always like this.” My chest tightens, knowing that’s not true. Why did I defend him?

“No? He didn’t raise his voice for no reason? He didn’t punch walls? Throw things? The signs are always there. They’re easy to ignore when we want to believe that our parents wouldn’t lay a hand on the people they love. Until they do.” My hangover comes rolling back the more she speaks. “We learn from them, don't we? Power games and manipulation? Control?”

“I can see where you get it from, but I’m nothing like my father.” I hold the cigarette so tight between my fingers I crush the filter.

“Fuck you. I’m not that. But you? It’s only a matter of time before you snap. I know how fucked up you are. I won't ignore the things you do to me."

“Hannah!”

Her father’s voice comes from nearby, startling Hannah straight. She flicks her cigarette into the lake.

“Good. You’re both here,” he says, dirt and rocks crunching under his suede shoes as he approaches us. “We’re taking a sunset sail.”

Hannah sighs. “Now?”

“I think we can all use this,” her mother says, coming up behind her husband in her big glasses and hat. “Please.” They’re both acting like nothing happened.