Fudge Ripple and Mocha with Peaches, Blueberries, Pineapple, and Whipped Cream
Author: Nikki
Challenge: Fudge Ripple #26 (anguish), Mocha #10 (mind your own business)
Toppings/Extras: Whipped Cream (Angie is 17), Pineapple (We just want our hermitry to stay and our coffee to go.), Peaches (A phone call could inform you of difficulties at home that require that you deal with them right away, Taurus.), Blueberries (Is there a greater tragedy imaginable than that, in our endeavour consciously to shape our future in accordance with high ideals, we should in fact unwittingly produce the very opposite of what we have been striving for?)
Word Count: 1,010
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Takes place in October 2004. Inspired by the song Colder Weather by the Zach Brown Band. My piece for Summer Challenge - 5/8. Warnings for mentions of child abuse.
Story: Phase; the title of this is "Born for Leaving."
Summary: She said, "You’re a rambling man, and you ain’t ever gonna change."
Angie hesitated, for just a moment, before she dropped the quarter into the slot of the payphone. It was a second before a dial tone started blaring in her ear, and she dialed before she could lose her courage. Courage. What a joke. The phone began to ring, and Angie stayed stuck on that thought. What a joke.
“Hello?”
Angie felt her breath catch in her throat. “...Hannah?”
There was a click, before the dial tone sounded in her ear again. Angie stood there a moment before she softly placed the phone back on the hook, and then punched the side of the booth. Another quarter was dug out of her pocket with fumbling fingers, before she repeated the process and dialed.
“What?” She sounded angry now that she knew who was calling, and Angie didn’t blame her.
“Please don’t hang up,” Angie murmured.
“Why? So you can start talking to me, then hang up and leave without telling me?” Hannah asked, voice bitter, and Angie winced. She deserved that.
“I... I’m sorry,” she softly replied, letting her head droop to lean against the side of the booth. “I don’t know. I just had to leave, like if I didn’t I was going to explode and do something stupid, and I couldn’t do that again.”
Angie heard her scoff, and there was disdain and something almost mocking in her voice when she answered. “And up and leaving without telling anyone isn’t stupid?”
There was a long moment before Angie answered, and she remembered the rage and the rushing thoughts that she couldn’t keep track of, and the almost undeniable urge to start hitting her father and never, ever stop. “Compared to the other option...”
“What other option?”
“...I’m sorry,” Angie repeated, dodging the question. “I never meant to-“
“Never meant to what? To date me? To make me like you? Or to show up at my house in the middle of the night, fuck me, and leave? And then, I find out that you’re gone. Not somewhere else in town, or coming back, but just gone.” Hannah’s anger faltered near the end of her rant, and Angie heard tears in her voice.
“I never meant to hurt you,” she told her quickly, though a scorned laugh from Hannah cut her off. Licking her lips, Angie’s eyes drifted shut as she tried again. “I never meant to hurt you, Hannah. I didn’t plan this. I just went home and - the idea of going inside. I couldn’t.”
“Then why not stay at my house for a few days?” Hannah asked, angry again. “Why not tell me, your fucking girlfriend, what the fuck you were planning?” There was a pause, before she laughed again, quieter and weaker. “You didn’t even think of taking me with you, did you?”
Angie almost flinched, and her silence was answer enough.
The other end of the line stayed silent as well, until Hannah finally spoke, sounding dejected and defeated. “What did you even call me for, Angie?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” she answered, truthfully.
“Then talk,” Hannah told her, “and don’t call me again.”
Angie guessed she deserved that, but it didn’t stop it from hurting any less. She had to swallow before she could answer. “...How’s Sarah doing? Do you know?”
“How do you think she’s doing? It’s bad enough what you did to me. But she’s your sister. You left your sister.”
That time, she did flinch. Tears burned behind her eyes, and she punched the side of the phone booth again to hold them off. Pain flared in her knuckles, and Angie felt something spark in her chest; anger and darkness and hurt, and it was enough to stop the tears. “I would have taken her with me if I could have. But she’s too young... If something happened to me, what the fuck would she do?”
“So you just left her?”
The scorn in Hannah’s voice made her anger rise. What the hell did she know, anyway? She had seen her scars and bruises, but said nothing. Like everyone else, she just preferred to assume that they were from fights, and turned her head the other way. Suddenly, Angie couldn’t remember why she called.
“My mom was right about you, you know. The minute she met you, she knew,” Hannah continued. “There’s nothing in you that anybody can change. There’s nothing in you that can be changed to good. You’re nothing but hate and anger, and you use people with it.”
Anger made her hands tremble, and the receiver vibrated against her ear. “You don’t know anything,” she lowly answered, almost a hiss, before hanging up. It was all she could do to not slam the phone down. Stumbling out of the booth, Angie bit back a curse when she was met with biting cold wind. She shoved her hands into her pockets, and started walking towards the diner down the street.
For a moment, she had an urge to leave where ever she was (Kansas? Colorado?) and rush back to Nebraska, before it passed. Fuck whatever Hannah said. Sarah would be fine. Their parents wouldn’t touch her. They wouldn’t.
Still, as Angie walked into the diner and fell into a booth, her words swam around and around in her head. You just left her? You’re nothing but hate and anger, and you use people with it. Angie rested her head in her hands, and bit her tongue to keep from screaming, some dark emotion burning hot in her chest and stomach.
“Fuck her,” she muttered. “Fuck all of them.”
Angie looked up as the waitress walked up to her table, and ordered something without thinking about it. Coffee. Some sandwich. She wasn’t hungry, but she couldn’t remember the last time she ate, and she’d have to hit the wall at some point, wouldn’t she?
She ignored her thoughts about what Sarah would order, if she were there with her. That didn’t matter now. Nothing in Nebraska mattered, and she would keep telling herself that until it she stopped doubting herself.
Challenge: Fudge Ripple #26 (anguish), Mocha #10 (mind your own business)
Toppings/Extras: Whipped Cream (Angie is 17), Pineapple (We just want our hermitry to stay and our coffee to go.), Peaches (A phone call could inform you of difficulties at home that require that you deal with them right away, Taurus.), Blueberries (Is there a greater tragedy imaginable than that, in our endeavour consciously to shape our future in accordance with high ideals, we should in fact unwittingly produce the very opposite of what we have been striving for?)
Word Count: 1,010
Rating: PG-13
Notes: Takes place in October 2004. Inspired by the song Colder Weather by the Zach Brown Band. My piece for Summer Challenge - 5/8. Warnings for mentions of child abuse.
Story: Phase; the title of this is "Born for Leaving."
Summary: She said, "You’re a rambling man, and you ain’t ever gonna change."
Angie hesitated, for just a moment, before she dropped the quarter into the slot of the payphone. It was a second before a dial tone started blaring in her ear, and she dialed before she could lose her courage. Courage. What a joke. The phone began to ring, and Angie stayed stuck on that thought. What a joke.
“Hello?”
Angie felt her breath catch in her throat. “...Hannah?”
There was a click, before the dial tone sounded in her ear again. Angie stood there a moment before she softly placed the phone back on the hook, and then punched the side of the booth. Another quarter was dug out of her pocket with fumbling fingers, before she repeated the process and dialed.
“What?” She sounded angry now that she knew who was calling, and Angie didn’t blame her.
“Please don’t hang up,” Angie murmured.
“Why? So you can start talking to me, then hang up and leave without telling me?” Hannah asked, voice bitter, and Angie winced. She deserved that.
“I... I’m sorry,” she softly replied, letting her head droop to lean against the side of the booth. “I don’t know. I just had to leave, like if I didn’t I was going to explode and do something stupid, and I couldn’t do that again.”
Angie heard her scoff, and there was disdain and something almost mocking in her voice when she answered. “And up and leaving without telling anyone isn’t stupid?”
There was a long moment before Angie answered, and she remembered the rage and the rushing thoughts that she couldn’t keep track of, and the almost undeniable urge to start hitting her father and never, ever stop. “Compared to the other option...”
“What other option?”
“...I’m sorry,” Angie repeated, dodging the question. “I never meant to-“
“Never meant to what? To date me? To make me like you? Or to show up at my house in the middle of the night, fuck me, and leave? And then, I find out that you’re gone. Not somewhere else in town, or coming back, but just gone.” Hannah’s anger faltered near the end of her rant, and Angie heard tears in her voice.
“I never meant to hurt you,” she told her quickly, though a scorned laugh from Hannah cut her off. Licking her lips, Angie’s eyes drifted shut as she tried again. “I never meant to hurt you, Hannah. I didn’t plan this. I just went home and - the idea of going inside. I couldn’t.”
“Then why not stay at my house for a few days?” Hannah asked, angry again. “Why not tell me, your fucking girlfriend, what the fuck you were planning?” There was a pause, before she laughed again, quieter and weaker. “You didn’t even think of taking me with you, did you?”
Angie almost flinched, and her silence was answer enough.
The other end of the line stayed silent as well, until Hannah finally spoke, sounding dejected and defeated. “What did you even call me for, Angie?”
“I wanted to talk to you,” she answered, truthfully.
“Then talk,” Hannah told her, “and don’t call me again.”
Angie guessed she deserved that, but it didn’t stop it from hurting any less. She had to swallow before she could answer. “...How’s Sarah doing? Do you know?”
“How do you think she’s doing? It’s bad enough what you did to me. But she’s your sister. You left your sister.”
That time, she did flinch. Tears burned behind her eyes, and she punched the side of the phone booth again to hold them off. Pain flared in her knuckles, and Angie felt something spark in her chest; anger and darkness and hurt, and it was enough to stop the tears. “I would have taken her with me if I could have. But she’s too young... If something happened to me, what the fuck would she do?”
“So you just left her?”
The scorn in Hannah’s voice made her anger rise. What the hell did she know, anyway? She had seen her scars and bruises, but said nothing. Like everyone else, she just preferred to assume that they were from fights, and turned her head the other way. Suddenly, Angie couldn’t remember why she called.
“My mom was right about you, you know. The minute she met you, she knew,” Hannah continued. “There’s nothing in you that anybody can change. There’s nothing in you that can be changed to good. You’re nothing but hate and anger, and you use people with it.”
Anger made her hands tremble, and the receiver vibrated against her ear. “You don’t know anything,” she lowly answered, almost a hiss, before hanging up. It was all she could do to not slam the phone down. Stumbling out of the booth, Angie bit back a curse when she was met with biting cold wind. She shoved her hands into her pockets, and started walking towards the diner down the street.
For a moment, she had an urge to leave where ever she was (Kansas? Colorado?) and rush back to Nebraska, before it passed. Fuck whatever Hannah said. Sarah would be fine. Their parents wouldn’t touch her. They wouldn’t.
Still, as Angie walked into the diner and fell into a booth, her words swam around and around in her head. You just left her? You’re nothing but hate and anger, and you use people with it. Angie rested her head in her hands, and bit her tongue to keep from screaming, some dark emotion burning hot in her chest and stomach.
“Fuck her,” she muttered. “Fuck all of them.”
Angie looked up as the waitress walked up to her table, and ordered something without thinking about it. Coffee. Some sandwich. She wasn’t hungry, but she couldn’t remember the last time she ate, and she’d have to hit the wall at some point, wouldn’t she?
She ignored her thoughts about what Sarah would order, if she were there with her. That didn’t matter now. Nothing in Nebraska mattered, and she would keep telling herself that until it she stopped doubting herself.