Free Standing By: A Knight's Tale #2 by Claudia Y. Burgoa Page A

“You’re a little late today, sir.”
    “I had a court appearance,” that answers why he’s wearing his lucky suit. “Hi, Cupcake. You look a little tense.”
    “Hi Dad,” I don’t want to remind him that I don’t like when he calls me cupcake, pumpkin or muffin. “I hope everything went well in court.”
    “Yes, of course, I only went to support Ben with a case that’s been dragging for a few months. Do you have any muffins left?”
    “You should eat healthier, Augustine,” Mom pats his stomach.
    “Don’t touch me, Caroline, respect my boundaries.” His menacing voice is followed by a glare.
    “I remember the times you begged me to touch you.”
    “La, la, la, la,” I cover my ears with my hands. “I’m right here, you two need to stop right now before I get a graphic description of anything. I still have nightmares of you two having sex in the bathroom—I was just a child.”
    “I don’t particularly care for your attitude today, Hayley,” Mom sets one hand on her hip and points at me with the other. “First you insult me for being nice to your handsome friend—”
    “Oh, boy,” Dad sighs. “You’re not planning on fucking this one too, are you Caroline?”
    “Mrs. Roth was only being polite, sir,” Mitch’s voice cracks and I think he’s about to either burst into a laugh or start crying.
    “Ms. Roth,” Mom indignantly corrects him, as she points her chin high to the skies she continues talking. “You make me sound like a cheap lay, Augustine.”
    “You’re not cheap, Caroline. I’m still paying for my stupid mistake.” He then snaps his head towards Mitch and I. “Hold the sweets; I’m not in the mood anymore. If you’ll excuse me, I refuse to continue this stupid discussion.”
    “Thank you for ruining my day, Hayley,” Mom spins around and as usual slams the glass door.
    My limbs feel heavy and I have a difficult time trying to exhale all the air I hold. To top it all off there’s someone here so I can’t go into the bathroom. Or can I? Yes I can, I rush to it and lock the door behind me. The box is right where I always put it, under the sink. The internal discussion of doing it or not overwhelms me. I promised myself not to do it anymore, to deal with my problems through a different venue. But what venue?
    “I’m still paying for my stupid mistake.”
    As the blade slashes through the skin of my belly, their voices fade away, and the dizziness takes over. Like a junky getting her fix, I rest my head on the wall and enjoy the seconds of release.
    *
    “Pinch and pull up, Hayley,” Mitch instructs me, as I try to create perfectly round rolls. “Keep doing it until it’s a perfect round shape.”
    “I know, pinching and pulling.” I sigh; today I’m having a hard time interacting with him. On one hand, I had a bad night, tossing and turning thinking about my parent’s altercation and how Dad never said something like, “ You’re not the mistake .” or “ I love you.” or… Just thinking about it brings back the stomach pinch, heavy heart and the mass on my back that weighs more than a car. “Can you sprinkle more flour on top, please?”
    “Where are you today?” I raise my gaze from the wooden board to his dark green eyes, trying to understand what he means. “I lost you yesterday, Muffin, between my family’s cake request and your family’s crazy scene.”
    “You mean when my mother came on to you,” I stammer awkwardly. I start to regret saying it because I don’t know if he wants Mom and I’m about to put my foot on my mouth or what. I continue with yesterday’s events. “Dad calling her a slut and calling me a mistake? Or are you talking about the part where you left without even saying goodbye?”
    “I had an emergency at Alexander’s ,” He places a hand on top of mine stopping my pretend pinching and pulling. “I left a post-it on your monitor, I wished I had stayed. Really.”
    “I’m not upset that you left, per se, it’s more