The Nerd Has A Boner: Chapter Three

"The chaos comes smashing and powerful but once it opens a door of hell can it really close?"- Anonymous

Sarah Hill

"Omg! No way it's that big. Is it a prosthetic?" The crowd stared wide-eyed at Oliver's mini him with gaped mouths in shock. Fredrick looked down in remorse for Oliver's embarrassment that surprised me at most. He's never been nice to anyone.

Fredrick probably felt bad he didn't have a bigger dick. Afterward, the crowd divided in less than a minute when Oliver ran through and down the stairs. The poor boy must've been embarrassed by the spectacle they made out of him.

Too bad for him.

I wanted to stop him when I saw my arm wet with tear streaks that I did not notice before. Every moment happened rapidly of me racing up and out of my seat. I skipped a few steps in the flight of stairs. My body went tumbling down to a loud crash at the bottom.

"My back!" I groaned loudly while using the pillar at the end of the staircase to stand.

The loud sirens of the police cars got louder. People knocked over tables and pushed each other to get out of the house first. The booze went to the floor and everyone scattered like a mouse after eating the cheese.

This is ridiculous! Sarah got out of here!

Everything is turning downhill. I stormed past people including the red-haired freshman with an innocent smirk on her face. As soon as I made it through the hallway, I found Juliet still on the couch fast asleep with drool surrounding her mouth.

"Wake the fuck up. Juliet, we are leaving this place," I shouted at her.

This isn't the time to be asleep. It's not worth me getting my ass thrown in a cell waiting on Juliet. She has no intention of waking up and she only turned over to snuggle back onto the couch. I waited a few more seconds to no response. A snore chiseled through her parted lips.

I turned towards the door as other kids rushed to head out the backyard. I looked at her and then at the door. I know I shouldn't leave her but it's either me or her and definitely not going to be me. I made up my mind quickly and joined the crowd in the runout.

At this moment, I'm thinking of my well-being. This sounds selfish. Juliet brought me here for the newspaper. I could have told her not to drink and she wouldn't have passed out.

I never wanted to be here in the first place. Some other kids were ahead of me running like they were on drugs. One girl dropped her earring. She didn't stop to pick up the hoop earring that looked like it cost a lot.

The sirens continued to blare and some jocks on the street across were being handcuffed. Most of us made it far enough to where they lost us.

"I knew this was a bad idea. I could have been at home watching the bachelorette." The worst thing to do during a runout is to stick with the same group. I split up my direction and ran the other way to my house from the backyard into a closed street.

My side purse jingled with every step I took farther from the house. My feet hitting the ground for moments before the other does. The cars are gone and the area is clear of anyone.

At first glance, I saw a dark hunched figure sitting, at the curb at the end of the street hitting its head repeatedly. Just great. Now I have run into a crackhead. Once I got closer, I could not make out the face. The darkness of midnight made it hard to know who this person was.

My phone had some battery left. I turned it on to text my Mom. She'll get my last message if this person is going to kill me. My hands were sweating from the run I just did. It took me longer to send the message.

When I was done, I looked back up at the street I'm on. I started to take small steps to the side as far as I could before I heard a hoarse voice,

"What are you doing alone out here?" the unknown person countered. They shifted their body to stand and reach out to me.

Lord, please let my stubborn ass make it home.

When I thought I would make it to the next street, the unknown figure grabbed me with a firm hold.

My instincts told me to spray the unknown attacker. That is how my boyfriend went kung fu on them. The spray made a loud noise releasing onto this crack head. The contents flew out and it wet the person's entire face before they yelled. Their hands flew up to their face to wipe it off.

"My fucking eyes, shit," the person let out a string of curse words. A smoother tone came from the next curse out of the person's mouth. Oliver's voice. I could feel my face lose color. I'm in pure guilt as he doubled over in pain, rubbing his swell eyes.

"My bad, it was self-defense. I had no clue it was you, Oliver." The small pit of my heart throbbed painfully. I have no clue about the reason why.

"Do not touch me, Sarah. I can manage on my own especially with what happened. It's bad enough that I have several kids that can vouch they saw my junk." Oliver lifted his eyes to look into mine.

A red ring surrounding his green eyes. His pupils with a hue of green. It could make a simple ocean look like a tyrant sea.

"I didn't mean to say that. When I drink, I agree with anything inappropriate that I wouldn't do if I was sober. I'll spare you my drunken state by leaving." The tears on his cheek have dried. It's nothing but a stain on his face.

You screwed up tonight Sarah.

"I am sorry again for tonight, Oliver. I never planned for this to happen. Things got out of hand. I hope your eyes heal." I avoided giving him a last glance. I left in a dash towards home.

..

The door to my house is not an option with the time of night it is. I did plan B instead. I used the tree that my Mom used to grow at home in the garden. Those times died down quickly.

The leaving and coming back is regular. I am accustomed to the 'There are leftovers in the fridge' message. We haven't had a meal together in the last two months.

We are the family that is separated physically but never by blood. My Mom works for a business that produces cosmetic repairs for the body. I have my own opinions about it. What makes her well known is her job and brings income. I never judge because she tried her best out there.

Finally making it inside with a few scratches to the ankle, I turned my head in the dark to make out where the lights are. They flooded the ceiling with colorful patterns. This is the room I can be with my thoughts when times get rough.

They flipped off once I made my way into the bathroom preparing a shower. The shower was a short one. The scratches on my ankles burned from the water. I pulled a top and sweatpants from my tall closet.

There are neat stacks of clothing that haven't been touched. Max would come into my room if he wasn't awake. He is asleep in his bedroom. There was not a noise heard from the house.

There's a nanny that kept him company here when I'm at school or going out. We had the money for one and to be honest, it isn't a bright idea when Mom and Papa could be spending their own time with him than a stranger.

Max's door is ajar. The race car stickers stuck to each wall of his room. A large cartoon poster hung above his bed. We built a shelf last summer for his toys and collections.

Walking more into the room, I peeked at him, tucked under a mountain of pillows and a duvet shielding his adorable sleeping face.

He is nonchalant when it comes to Mom and Papa being away. I'm here for him while my big sister is who knows where. The maturity of him being a third-grader and understanding hardships is very mature. I made sure to be quiet kissing his cheek and turning off the lamp.

While walking back to my room, I heard a loud unfamiliar noise going down the corridor. I hope it was not what I was thinking. I've never heard anything now. I'm sure nobody is home.

Not that I know of.

Mom never answered my texts. I assume work is better than my well-being. The hardwood floors were going in when you walked on them. The small squeaks and creaks of the ground.

The more I got closer, the more my body revolted at the sounds. A small window is between Mom and Max's room in the hallway. I see the pesky raccoon that was rummaging through someone's trash outside.

The babysitter shouldn't have left that early to leave Max here alone. Unless, Mom is home. My suspicions stopped. I heard something loud and clear.

"Oh, Rodger, choke me harder baby!" My mom said in a strangled moan. A grunt coming after. My ears pressed against the door. I know my Papa's name is not Rodger. His name is Frank. The creek of the headboard slammed to the wall that was next to Max's room.

"You like that baby? Fuck, I'm about to come." Their foul language continued and Max's room was only meters from there.

What were they thinking?! This has to be a dream.

Not knowing what to do, I acted out of anger and with hatred for whoever she decided to sleep with that was not my Papa. They're getting a wake-up call. My Papa at least had more thought into trying to help put the family back together.

The excuse that she has for taking this man in the house better be big. Could this night get any worse!?

The thoughts in my head are put straight into action. I ran down the flight of stairs nearly missing a step going for the bat we keep in the storage closet for any danger.

My grip on the bat is strong leaving my knuckles white. I hit it against every step back up to make my presence known.

Shit, I'm not thinking this through! I might wake up Max!

The next thing I heard was shuffling and shouting. The door opened with the turn of my hand on the knob.

"What the fuck are you doing mom? Who is this man you brought here?" I say with my voice hitting loud enough for the neighbors to hear.

I've had enough with my Mom's bullshit. The quick lies and excuses when she doesn't have work. She doesn't drive home since we share the same car. Whoever she goes with transports her. When I bring up events Max has at school, she dismisses them.

The woman who I call Mom turned around and looked at me with no shock. Rodger tried to leave but not without me getting a hit at him before he did right into the head.

A loud clunk rang when it smacked his head. Minimal drops of blood pooled out from a gushing cut on his head. He stumbled back a bit. "What the fuck is wrong with this rat you have here?" Rodger spat with blood dropping on the floor.

"You know that woman you're screwing is married. Rodger, you're a sick man," I fumed at him.

My Mom swore at my harsh tone. He left with an intense stare at me and a slam to the door. She broke down crying. I looked at her confused because I should be crying having to put up with her sneaking and with no explanation either.

"I think it is best you have time to think about what you did Mother. Max and I are going with dad for the weekend and maybe, I'll reconsider telling him about your fuck buddy," I blurted. I couldn't call that lady my Mom anymore. She lost that privilege.

That came out harsher than I expected.