The Bully's First Love

The Bully, Wretched

"Here drink this."

I smiled at my younger sister as she handed me a cup of hot tea. "Thanks, Abby."

Abby, which was short for Abigail, crossed her arms and glared down at me. I leaned back against the pillows and continued smiling at her. She was mad at me, righteously so, and I was patiently waiting for her to get it off her chest.

The both of us had our Korean mother's coloring. While I kept my brown hair short, she kept hers long. While I wasn't that good at studying, she was a consecutive top-notcher in her middle school. While I was in the music department, playing the piano my whole life, she was in the sports department, doing tennis. And while I like playing with dolls when I was a child and wore pretty dresses, she preferred playing baseball or soccer with the boys of our neighborhood and wasn't afraid to get rough and dirty.

Abby was also really good at baking and cooking. She also knew how to speak Korean fluently, actually learned it herself because she liked learning languages, unlike me who only knew a little Korean. Besides, when our mother was still alive, she mostly spoke English at home and pretty much raised us as Americans.

"You're overdoing it again, Unni," Abby finally said in a scolding tone.

"I know. I'm sorry." I took a sip of my tea and sighed blissfully. "Your tea is always the best in the world, Abby."

She rolled her eyes. "It's just hot water and tea leaves. And don't change the subject."

Sometimes, she tended to forget who was older. But then again, I was an irresponsible and immature older sister so she had to step up and be the mature one. And secretly, I knew she liked ordering me around.

Chuckling, I took a sip again. "You're too smart for me, Abby."

"You're still doing it."

Fully laughing now, I patted the space next to me invitingly. She was grumbling underneath her breath as she joined me, slipping under the covers to cuddle next to me.

"Don't you want to see Rohan again?" I asked her, wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

She put her arm around my middle, buried her face into my neck and grumbled, "I don't."

"You're lying."

"I'm not."

"Are too."

Abby lifted her head up to glare at me. "Didn't you remember what he told us when he and his mother left the house? He said good riddance. Good riddance, Unni. It's obvious he never thought of us as anyone but strangers. Why would I want to see someone like that? Why would you even want to talk to him?"

"Because he made you laugh." I stroke her hair, watching her eyes grow wide. "Because he made Dad laugh. And because he made this house feel alive again."

She stared at me mutely.

"Ever since Mom died, it's like everyone in this house died too," I muttered. "We were all miserable. Then they came."

"Yeah and they left," Abby sneered at me. "And made our home even more miserable. And I'll never forgive Diana for that."

"Abby-"

She pushed off me, sat up and I braced at the look of sheer fury on her face.

"She made Dad fall in love with her," she started to rant. "She brought her wretched child to our house. They wormed their selves into our lives and then they just up'd and left. She broke Dad's heart. She broke our family apart. And I'll never forgive her for that. Ever," she ended in a near-shout.

I swallowed against a throat that was closing and told her, "We're not broken, Abby."

"We might as well be," she muttered wetly, the anger gone, and I saw there were tears in her eyes.

I pulled her closer. "We're not."

"I don't want to talk about this anymore." She wiped the tears from her eyes. "I don't want to hear any more of that stupid mother and son."

"Abby-"

"Finish your tea," she instructed bossily, as she got off my bed. "And get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning."

Her hand was on the door when I spoke again.

"Do you remember, Abby?"

She paused. But she didn't turn.

"He never let us into his room. He never let us play video games with him. But once, when you came home in tears because you were bullied at school, he let you in his room and let you play with him."

I looked down at the tea, my fingers squeezing the cup.

"Then he went to your school the next day and terrorized those kids," I chuckled softly. "He got into trouble. But no one ever bothered you again."

I looked at her again. Her body was rigid, unyielding and I went on.

"Whenever you cooked for us and he was at home, he'd make sure he was the first one at the table. He never said it but he loved your cooking, Abby."

Her hands began to tremble and she clenched them tight.

"Remember when Dad and I couldn't make it to your tournament? You thought I forced him to go with you but I didn't, Abby. He told me that there was no way in hell he was going to stand in the sun just to see people smacking balls at each other so I didn't push him. But he was the first one to get dressed that morning. He went to see you play. And he might not have shown it but he was so proud to see you win."

"Shut up," I heard her whisper but I carried on.

"Whenever you cried because you missed Mom he'd take you out for ice cream. Oh, he'd grumble and wear that annoyed expression of his all the while but he still made sure that when the two of you got home, you were all cheered up."

"Please, shut up, Unni."

"He might not show that he cared for us but he did, Abby. He was always gone or hiding in his room but whenever we needed him the most, he was there for us. Even if it meant hurting himself-"

"Shut up!" Abby yelled and I quieted.

She looked at me over her shoulder, her expression heartrending. My heart squeezed and then it slid straight up into my throat.

"I get it, Unni," she said softly, her voice vibrating with emotion. "I get it."

My eyes stung with unshed tears. "We aren't the only people who're hurting because of the divorce. And we aren't the people who got the short end of the stick. At least we got each other and Dad, Abby. But Rohan... We know how Diana is like. We know how... how selfish she can be. That's why I'm worried for him."

A tear slid out of her eye and down her cheek.

"I know you're also worried for him," I whispered.

"I am," she whispered back. "But I'm more worried for you, Unni . You're only going to hurt yourself."

"I'll be smart. I promise."

Abby's eyes closed tight and she turned her head away. She wiped at her eyes and opened the door.

"I love you, Abby," I said before she could leave.

She turned, smiled a small, joyless smile at me then said, "I love you too, Unni . Now get some rest."

I watched her close the door behind her.

Then I covered my lips with my hand, trying to hold back a sob.

**********

The silence in the apartment was deafening. Aside from the light clinking sounds of silverware against the plates, no one spoke a word.

Rohan would have preferred that it would stay that way.

"How's your new school, Rohan?"

But as usual, his preferences were ignored.

He lifted his head. His mother was looking at him, expecting an answer.

He dropped his gaze to his steak and pasta. "It was alright."

"That's good to hear. Are the kids nice? Did you make new friends?"

Of course she'd want him to have new friends. She had always disapproved of him hanging out with Leon and others.

"No, Ma," he muttered.

"Why not?" Disappointment laced her voice.

He didn't answer. He shoved a forkful of pasta into his mouth and let the silence continue. But his mother was having none of it.

"It's been awhile since we've seen each other yet you don't seem glad to see me," his mother said in disapproval. Then her face lit up, "You must be tired because of school right? I heard the North High teachers are very strict. I hope they don't work you to the bone."

"They don't," he muttered, just to have something to contribute.

"Not that I don't object. It's good that they're strict so that you'll be busy with school work and won't get yourself in trouble." She reached for her wine and took a small sip. "Lord knows how much trouble you got in because of your delinquent friends."

Rohan's body went tight.

Shit. Not this again.

"You always came home late. You were always out, drinking, partying and doing God knows what with that Gage boy. And John Steele," she shook her head, going on to say in a regrettable tone, "his family may be the wealthiest in town but that boy is bad for business what with his irresponsible ways. At least Christopher has his grandmother to guide him. But the longer he stays with that group, the sooner he'll spiral downwards too."

Shit.

"They were quite the bad influence on you, dear." She gave him a sad smile as she set her wine glass down. "And you probably won't ever tell me but I know it's them who have been beating you up."

Rohan could no longer hold on to his temper even if he tried.

"I told you it wasn't them!" he bit off.

Her eyes came direct to him and her face paled. Her smile died and she stared at him.

Then she whispered through trembling lips, "Why are you angry? I just want to protect you."

Rohan wanted to believe that. He really did.

But her mother was a self-serving woman.

A blond-haired beauty her whole life, even now at her late 30's, Diana Holliday came from money and had been spoiled by her parents. But then she became pregnant after a one night stand when she was in her senior year of high school and got kicked out of the house for bringing shame to the family name. Having no other choice, she then married Rohan's biological father, a fellow senior named Philip Kane.

Philip loved her and thought she hung the moon. After high school graduation, he sacrificed college and found a job as a taxi driver to support his new family. But then Diana broke his heart by divorcing him after a few years because she hated being poor.

How did Rohan know?

He found the cold, brutal and unfeeling letter she wrote to his father.

No wonder his father wanted to have nothing to do with him or his mother anymore.

Now that Diana Holliday had already divorced Emilia's Schuyler's father, she was using her maiden name again.

And now that Diana Holliday had five ex-husbands under her belt, she wasn't poor anymore.

Rohan took great pains to avoid working her mother up to an emotional state. As self-serving as she may be, she was also a little flighty, oversensitive and fragile. The kind of fragile that was unpleasant and at worst, especially when he was a kid, terrifying.

His gut tightened when he saw the tears forming in his mother's eyes and brace himself.

Shit.

But just then his cat came wandering out of the bedroom, mewling. His mother blinked and looked for the noise. When her eyes hit the white cat, surprise lit her features and she smiled a wide smile.

"You have a cat?" she asked, sliding her gaze back to him.

Rohan immediately nodded, relieved. "It's... it's female," he said lamely.

"Really?" His mother stared at it again. The cat was now sitting on the carpet, licking its paw. "What's her name?"

Shit. He hadn't named it yet.

His eyes hit the dish on the table and he blurted out the first word that came to his mind, "Pig."

His mother's brows rose. "Pig?"

He shrugged. "She eats a lot."

Laughing, his mother picked up her glass and said, "Remind me to increase the household funds later. We'll need to stock up on cat food if she's as gluttonous as you say she is."

"You don't mind me keeping a cat?" he asked, hoping she'd say she did so he could return it to Skull.

But she shook her head. "No, you can keep her. You've never had a pet before right? And I've heard cats are low maintenance so keeping one won't be a bother to your studies."

Damn it.

"I really wish you'd make new friends, honey."

With some effort, Rohan resumed eating again, hurriedly making his way through his steak and pasta, wanting to get this hellish dinner over with.

"I just don't want you getting into trouble again. I heard those kids in North High are very results-driven and I think they will be very good influence on you. And are you sure you don't want to enter a club? I wouldn't mind really. How about basketball? Or tennis?"

Like hell, he'd play tennis again. It was something he and his father had shared, their love for tennis. Did she really think he'd touch a f*****g racket after the misery she put him through?

"You were so good at tennis when you were a child, Rohan. I bet you will make good friends in that club."

"What's the use of making friends, Ma?" he muttered, not even hiding the fact he was becoming pissed. "You'll probably get hitched before the month is over and I'd have to leave that school."

When he looked up, tears were streaming down her beautiful face.

Shit.

He dropped his fork, curled his fingers into his palms, his nails digging painfully into the skin.

It was always the tears.

The tears that had her getting her way every damn time.

The f*****g tears that had him nodding his head just to get his mother to shut up.

When she told him she was divorcing his step-father through a text message, like she was just telling him she was going out to get a facial, he couldn't believe it at first. He thought she'd finally settled down when she stayed for more than a year with the doctor. He couldn't believe she was doing this, couldn't believe she was doing this to him again.

He should have been f*****g used to this already.

But he wasn't. He just couldn't.

Not when he had started planting roots. Not when he thought he'd finally have somewhere he belonged.

And Rohan was getting tired of bouncing from one family to another.

"You think I'm a bad mother," his mother was saying shakily.

Rohan exhaled slow.

Then he put his spoon down and reached for his mother's hand. "Ma..."

She pulled back her hand and this slice through him like a blade.

"I just want what's best for you, Rohan," she whispered.

He slid his gaze away. "I know."

"I'm your mother. I love you," she kept whispering and he felt his entire body get tight.

"I know."

"You have all that I left. I don't want to lose you."

And whose f*****g fault was that? he wanted to shout.

"But you think I'm a bad mother. That I don't care for you."

He shook his head. "That's not true, Ma."

"You clearly do!" she shrieked and Rohan closed his eyes tight, gritting his teeth. "I disappoint you, do I? You sit there, judging me, judging my life when I tried to give you everything you want. And this is how you repay me." She was losing it with the way she was sobbing hard, her breath hitching painfully as it snagged, the sound so damn painful to hear. "My son thinks I'm a bad mother."

He opened his eyes, stood up, rounded the table and fell on his heels beside her. "I don't think you're a bad mother, Ma," he told her softly, stroking her back.

She had her face in her palms, still sobbing. Slowly lifting her face, she looked at him. "You hate me," she whispered with another painful hitch of her breath.

"I don't hate you, Ma. I could never hate you."

"You do."

"I don't. I love you."

She stared at him through watery eyes for a long moment, studying him.

Then she shoved her face in his shoulder, her arms closing tight around his shoulder, dissolving into tears again. Rohan wrapped his arms around her, holding her close.

He proceeded to comfort her, telling her the words she wanted to hear.

Fuck knows he'd had practice.

**********

Shit must have penetrated through Emilia's skull because Rohan didn't see her for a week.

Rohan should have felt immense relief.

He didn't.

Still, he didn't need her s**t.

He had a life in North High Academy to f*****g start again.