Christmas with the Gerard's

6

“No, no, no.” I gasped, tears blurring my vision “No, Thomas is not that. He can’t be, he was my first boyfriend, my first everything, I refuse to believe the boy I used to love so much grew up to be everything he despised in his youth!” I snapped at Colton, who looked at me with pity in his eyes. My tone was cold and harsh “Just take me home Colton, I’ve had enough of today. No good comes from partying on a Monday!” The whole walk home, I kept replaying my childhood love with Thomas, he was such a sweetheart, he was kind and helpful, always standing up to bullies. How did that boy grow up to the things Colton was accusing him of? I glanced at Colton, his face was stoic, he had at some point placed his hands inside his jean pockets and I can’t imagine how painful it must be for him, last time I caught a glance of his right hand it was bloodied, bruised and swollen, shoving it in such a tight place must be hurting him. “Take your hand out of your pocket Col.” he stops and gives me a questioning look, “It’s swollen, it’ll only get worse being cramped in there.” He smiled slowly at me and moved his hand out, I gasp “Jesus Colton, your hand is twice the normal size!” I grab it gently and turn it around, examining it.  His knuckles are purple and swollen, the cuts openly bleeding again, due to rubbing on his jeans, I slowly trace his cuts and bruises and he winces a little, “Big baby!” I say with a chuckle.  

“Hey! That’s mean, I got these defending your honour you know!” He says laughing, his tone teasing 

“My honour was fine thanks, you didn’t have to do this.” 

“I had to D, this is gonna sound the most anti-feminist thing, but know that I do not mean it in that way, it’s just the way Thomas works and it’s the only thing he would have understood.” he says, his voice quiet and low, long gone is his teasing tone, the mood suddenly drops, becoming deep and serious. “I had to beat him, because I had to show him what happens when he touches what is mine!” He growls out, I raise my eyebrows at him, His? I’m about to say something when he places his finger on my lips, shushing me and carries on “He already knew you were in town; I play at that bar all the time and we have had countless fights; he was bragging earlier that his first girlfriend was back in town and that he was going to score you” He makes the quotation marks even though he really didn’t need to “and teach you about his new life and business”  

“Colton, I...” He shushes me again, this time running his rough palm over my cheek, I close my eyes, the feel of his warm hand seeping into my bones.  

“Thomas is a bastard; I wasn’t about to let him get away with it. Even if me and Theo had spoken to you and you stayed away, he would have chased you. This way he really does think you are mine. Hopefully the beating will have deterred him from trying again. If you see him again D, please don’t give him a chance to hurt you. And if he tries something, call me.” His thumb rubs my cheekbone and I shiver slightly, his fingers are rough, the callouses from years of playing guitar feel hard on my skin, but at the same time, the softness of his touch is just so Colton. An actual contradiction. Colton is like two different people in one body. The perpetual bad boy, who dresses in leather jackets and plays in a band, works out, looks like a Greek God and knows it. He uses his good looks to get all the girls he can, the typical player and he is the class geek, top of his class, the smartest kid in school, grade A through and through. Even though he looks like a bad boy, Colton is actually an IT specialist and him and Theo are hoping to open up their own IT company next year. I bet none of the slags he paraded around for years ever thought they were bedding someone so complex. Although from what Theo told me, over the years Colton has slowed down his player ways, and he was actually with someone for almost a year. Like he said before, they broke up in October.  Colton taps the tip of my nose and it snaps me out of my day dream, he smiles at me and points across the road, I follow his gaze and notice that we are standing outside my place. We cross the road and he walks me to the door, I try to hand him his jacket but he refuses. “Give it back tomorrow, I’ll pick you up at twelve for lunch.” He winks at me and walks backwards, away from me until I turn and go inside. Cocky bastard.  I sniff his jacket, the smell of his aftershave making me dizzy. I walk quietly to my room, and as I am getting ready for bed, my hone pings. I rush to it, must be Colton texting me about tomorrow, but my heart stops when I see the unknown number, the text is simple and to the point *Why are you w*****g around, when you know you are mine? * My blood freezes over when another text comes through, a photo message this time, I open it with trembling hands, it’s a photo of Colton stroking my cheek on the way home tonight, it’s very zoomed in and blurry but I can tell it’s us from our clothes. Under the picture the text simply reads in all capitals. *MINE*  

I change into my pajamas and lay in the dark, my head pounding, tears slowly slipping down my cheeks, just who is sending me these texts?  

**** 

I walk into the kitchen like a zombie. I followed the smell of coffee and bacon, thinking I’d find my mum here, but instead I find Avery; she eyes me with disgust and tuts at my ripped jeans and t-shirt. I shrug my shoulders at her and pour myself a cuppa.  

“Morning to you too Ave.” I say as I sit down.  

“You’re a grown-up Cordelia, shouldn’t you dress like one?” I eye her from head to toe, Avery is nothing like Mallory, although they both share the same bone structured face and the same hazel brown eyes, they couldn’t be more different. Avery is slightly curvier than Mallory and has bigger breasts, but unlike Mal, Avery has chosen to change her curly reddish-brown locks into a lifeless straight platinum blonde do. Not much can be said for her style, in her youth Avery would have made fun of her older self, she used to be daring with her clothes, always showing off her sexy curves, but now, at thirty-nine, she dresses like my nan, actually scrap that, my nan has a better sense of fashion than her. Avery dresses in ankle length drab dull dresses and flat shoes. Every day I have seen her since being back, she has worn basically the same clothes. She turns back to her cooking, platting up a full English and cutting the sausages, bacon and eggs. I’m sure none of her kids are here so why is she platting it up and cutting it?  

My question is answered when Toby walks in. He walks to her and takes the plate. He doesn’t even speak to her or touch her. He sits opposite me and gives me an appreciative look while licking his lips. I shudder in disgust and make a move to leave when Mallory walks in fresh as a Daisy, wearing a white turtle neck and black trousers, she grabs a coffee and moves near Avery to plate herself some food. She sits next to me. Just as Gabriel walks in with my nan, both of them stopping when they see me, Gabriel simply shakes his head while my nan grins at me. 

“So, Cordelia, I hear you got the mayor’s son beat up last night. Tell me more?”