Free The Fifth Circle by Tricia Drammeh Page A

and smiled at me. It was the first time she didn’t look away in disbelief or stammer a denial. “Alex, I…” I trailed off when Mom came into the room. I sighed in frustration. It was probably for the best, though. We should be in the privacy of my bedroom when I proposed.
    “The tree looks great, kids. Come on into the kitchen while the cocoa is still hot.”
    I placed my hand on Alex’s back protectively and led her to the kitchen. We sat at the table and chatted with my mom until she yawned and announced her intent to turn in for the night. When she disappeared into her bedroom, I grabbed Alex’s hand and gently pulled her down the hall.
    After shutting the door and locking it, I pulled her into my arms and kissed her until all my pent up desperation evaporated. I was just getting ready to make my move when her cell phone rang. She fumbled to answer the call and her hands began shaking when she looked at the caller ID. I already knew who it was by the expression of fear on her face.
    “Hi, Dad,” she said. Her voice trembled.
    I could hear his response through the speaker on her phone. He was so loud, it would have been impossible not to. “Where the hell are you?”
    “Next door. I told you,” she replied.
    “Well, get your ass home. I’m tired and I want to go to bed. I’ll be damned if I’m gonna wait up all night while you screw that loser you spend all your time with,” he yelled.
    Alex glanced at me warily, apologetically. “I’m coming. I’ll be right there .” She almost dropped her phone. “I’m sorry,” she cried. “I have to go home. I… I’m so sorry.”
    “It’s okay, baby,” I said softly. “Are you alright?” It was hard to be sympathetic and calm when all I wanted to do was to go next door and beat the living shit out of that man.  
    “I’m fine,” she lied.
    I gave her a brief kiss. From the front porch, I watched until she let herself inside. A sense of deep foreboding followed me back to my room. I started to sign on to the game, but decided against it and instead sat on the edge of my bed and waited for her to call. No way would I be able to relax until I heard from her. Several minutes passed and I checked my phone to make sure it was on. 
    At last, a tentative knock sounded on the front door. I rushed down the hall and opened the door. Alex . Her eyes were red and swollen from crying. A dark, red blotch marked the side of her face—it would be a bruise tomorrow. When I took her into my arms, she smelled like beer and despair. We’d been through this before. In the past, I’d held her while she cried, dried her tears, and sent her back to her abusive father. This time it would be different. This time she was eighteen and so was I. This time she would stay with me and I would take care of her.
    “Everything okay?” my mom asked, coming down the hallway, clutching her bathrobe tightly.
    “The usual,” I said. My mom knew Mr. Elmwood was a drunken asshole. “He hit her.”
    “No. He threw a full can of beer at me,” she wept. I rubbed her back. 
    “Well, why don’t you just stay here tonight?” my mom offered. “I’ll find something you can wear to sleep in.”
    She disappeared down the hallway and I led Alex to the kitchen. I sat her down at the table and offered her a glass of water. She hiccoughed loudly and took a sip. My mother returned with sweat pants and a tee-shirt. I was relieved she didn’t tell Alex to sleep on the couch.
    Alex went to the bathroom and changed. When she emerged, she was swimming in my mom’s oversized clothing. She’d never looked more fragile. I tucked her into bed and stretched out next to her, morphing effortlessly from lover to friend. She didn’t need a boyfriend tonight. She needed her best friend. 
    She had just fallen asleep when her phone rang. The caller ID said ‘Mom.’ I answered it before Alex could awaken.
    “It’s Sean,” I said.
    “Is she okay?” Mrs. Elmwood asked tearfully.
    I hated her as much