Bruised-Chapter 1

Prologue1

I always wondered how I’d die. I didn’t think it’d be like this. I’d counted on some white picket-fenced cottage, gray hair, a devoted husband holding my hand, and a row of award-winning novels staring down at me. Lying on the ground listening to the sirens grow louder, battered and broken, was just not part of the plan. But then again, if you have to die, you might as well do it right. That’s what he always said. If you’re going to live this life, live it right. Take a risk. That’s what he told me. That’s why I’m here, bleeding on the rocks, waiting to die. Because he told me to jump. And I jumped.2

Chapter 1
Senior Year3

“Mandy, wake up!” my little brother pulled on my arm, attempting to wake me. I rolled over, yanking the covers over my head. “Mom made pancakes, Mandy! Mandy please! “He pulled on the blanket as hard as he could. “Mommy said I couldn’t eat my chocolate chip pancakes till I got you up! Please!” I couldn’t resist the pleading in his voice anymore. Who could deny a six-year-old his chocolate chip pancakes?
“Alright, alright. I surrender.” I said, sitting and rubbing my eyes as William jumped up and down. His blonde hair stuck out in every direction; obviously my mom hadn’t gotten to him with a comb yet. His huge blue eyes sparkled, wide with anticipation and he was wringing his little hands, the epitome of desperation. I thought back to a time when pancakes were the most important thing on my mind.
“Go tell mom I’m up and she’ll let you eat your pancakes.” I didn’t have to tell him twice. He squealed and ran up the stairs screaming “MOM!” I laughed lightly and shook my head. Little munchkin.
I lazily flopped back down onto my pillow and sighed. Today was the first day of senior year, and once again I had nothing to look forward to. Unless, of course, you want to count being ignored, then I have a lot to look forward to. Maybe I’d join a club or something. Now if only I were good at something, that might work. Well, I guess I’m a good writer, but there was no writing club at Bellmont High and other than writing, my skills were limited to making cereal and occasionally managing to keep my balance while walking. I fell down and embarrassingly large percentage of the time.
That’s it. I officially decided I’m dropping out. I’m moving to Figi to fulfill a life as a hermit. I pulled the blankets back over my head and curled into a ball, wondering how long I could hide before my mom came looking for me.
“Amanda Marie!”
I groaned. Obviously not long. “What mom?” I called back.
“You’d better not still be in bed or you’re grounded.”
“Of course not!” I said, scrambling to untangle myself from the covers. “I’m putting on my makeup!”
“Breakfast is getting cold! Put on your makeup after you’ve eaten.”
I mumbled under my breath and stomped up the stairs. I tripped once and cut my hand on a protruding nail. Yelping in surprise, I quickly stuck the bleeding finger into my mouth and sucked on it, glaring at the offending nail. Perfect. What a great way to start out the day. This was a bad omen, I could feel it.
“Nice of you to join us.” said my mom as I entered the kitchen.
“Good morning to you, too.” I grumbled. I glanced at the end of the table where Will was shoveling a stack of pancakes into his little mouth. I giggled at the chocolate splattered across his lips and chin.
Ashlynne turned around and greeted me and I smiled at her. She was like a little porcelain doll. Petite for her age, she was sure to grow up to be a heartbreaker. Perfect blonde hair, large blue eyes, perfect teeth, long legs, and a smile that would stop any male dead in his tracks along with innate grace made her the envy of every pre-teen in five counties. She was, well, perfect; it made me self-conscious. I reached up and touched my own blonde hair. It was my proudest feature, flowing long down my back, and shining gold in the sunlight. My green eyes contrasted the rest of my family’s blue eyes. I guess that’s fitting, though. My entire family was a family of runway models and I was...well, average. My green eyes were bright and pretty, and my lips were rouged to perfection, but my nose was just a little too big and I had inherited my dad’s bone structure.
I tousled Will’s sandy hair as I passed him on the way to my seat and he grinned a chocolatey grin at me before returning his full attention to the fluffy pancakes silently awaiting his attack. I slid into my chair and put my head on the table. I jumped as a plate of pancakes covered in strawberry sauce and whipped cream landed next to my nose.
“You’d better wake yourself up, Mandy. Today’s a big day.” My mom started out her annual lecture. “Summer’s over. It’s time to buckle down and work to…”
“Mom,” I interrupted, “I know the drill. I have to work to get the grades to get the scholarship to get into college to get a degree to get a high-paying job, I know.
My mom opened her mouth to say something and I interrupted again. “And this is a big year and I should enjoy my last year of high school. I get it.”
My mom pouted. “Well aren’t you pleasant this morning?”
I sighed. “Sorry, mom. I’m just sick of every year being the same. I want something to happen this year. I don’t know what, but just something.” My mom’s frown grew more pronounced. “I need a reprieve from the monotony that has become my life.” I mumbled.
“Poetic.” My mom rolled her eyes. “Just eat your breakfast.” My mom wasn’t the biggest fan of my ambitions to one day be a best-selling author. She’d always imagined me becoming a marine biologist like she was before she gave it up to be a stay-at-home mom when I was born 17 years ago. I think she resented leaving it sometimes. Whenever we went to the beach, she’d tie back her shoulder-length chestnut hair and pull out her microscope. Her light blue eyes would light up every time she found something new. I loved seeing her like that, but I think she wanted to live precariously through me. She wanted me to feel the joy she felt when she saw the ocean. What she didn’t realize it that my own green eyes light up when I’m writing. I felt that same joy when I saw the ocean, just for a different reason. It gave me something to write about. The flow of the waves, the white foam demanding attention from the endless blue and green, the soothing whoosh of the sea…it inspired me. I wish she could appreciate that.
“Good morning, family” My dad said as he made his appearance from the upstairs bedroom. He settled himself down in his chair at the head of the table and smiled around at us, smoothing his brown mustache. “Are you all set for your senior year, Angel Baby?” I smiled at his pet name for me.
“Of course, Daddy. I have a thousand notebooks, a million pens, and a variety of lip gloss in every color and flavor. Everything a teenage girl needs to be successful in high school.”
He chuckled and my mom rolled her eyes. He leaned over, his eyes close boring into mine, and whispered, “You’ll be fighting guys off with a stick, beautiful.”
My stomach flipped and my thoughts turned to last March. “Thanks, Dad.” I somehow managed to keep my voice steady. He patted my hand and sat back, eyeing Will’s efforts in devouring everything in his path.
“Slow down, Willie. They aren’t going anywhere.” Tyler teased as he slid into the chair next to mine. Will just grinned impishly.
“Morning, little sis.” Tyler ruffled my hair and I slapped his hand away.
“Good morning, Tyler. Are you ready to start college?”
“Absolutely! Football, freedom, frat parties, and females. The four F’s.”
I grinned mischievously and said “Sounds like your report card.” My dad laughed appreciatively and Tyler reached over and pinched my leg.
“I’m more than ready. Now I just have to ‘get the degree to get the high-paying job’,” He winked and my mom scowled. “So I can buy a Ferrari and take out all the fine females. More F’s.” He seemed proud of himself. I just rolled my eyes at him. Unlike me, my older brother was the ultimate in popularity. Captain of the football team, heartbreaker, straight ‘A’ student, and amazingly sweet and kind to everyone. He’d had more girlfriends than anyone I’ve ever heard of. And why not? He sports the classic 6’3”, dark wavy hair, chiseled abs, bright blue eyes, infectious smile look better than Tom Welling could ever dream of. He’s so cliché. He’s also the source of my better-known nick-name. ‘Tyler Roberts’ little sister’. That one actually got me invited to lots of parties. I never went, though, because I didn’t want to be used to get to my brother. Tyler’s name had gotten me into too many sticky situations. I grimaced again as last spring’s memories came back.
I could see his smile, almost feel his arms around me, practically taste his lips on mine…
“Earth to Mandy!” Tyler waved his hand in my face. I shook my head and looked at him. “Sheesh, Candy! Where were you just now?”
“Nowhere. I told you not to call me Candy.” I said, hastily changing the subject.
He grinned. He was my best friend, but my brother nonetheless, so his favorite past time was torturing me. “Why not Mandy Candy?”
I groaned. “Because it makes me feel like I should be wearing fish-nets and hooker boots while swinging around a hot pink pole.” He laughed loudly at this.
“You said you wanted to do something with your life. Why not entertain?”
“Cute.” I said sarcastically.
“Hey, it might help take your mind off of Clark.”
I gasped. He’d gone too far and everyone in the room knew it. It grew suddenly quiet. My mom stared at him, open-mouthed, her head flicking back and forth between us, alternately staring at him incredulously and gauging my reaction. My father’s eyes narrowed at Tyler and Will stopped chewing long enough to recognize the tension in the room.
“That’s enough Tyler.” My dad said, his voice sounding dangerous. He didn’t even know the half of it. But Tyler did, and he should’ve known better.
“What?” Tyler said innocently, glancing around the room. “It was a joke. I know the guy’s an ass.”
“Tyler! Watch your language” my mom reproached. I understood his sentiment, though.
“Sorry, Mom. I just thought we were at the point we could joke about it.”
I stood quickly and every eye turned to me. “I’m full.” I stated and turned away from the table, making a quick escape down the stairs. Tyler glanced at my untouched breakfast and ran after me.
“Mandy, wait! Amanda!” He caught me at my bedroom door and stopped it from closing. “Mandy, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.”
“Story of your life.” I countered, attempting to shut the door; but I was no match for his football physique. He shoved the door open and slipped into the room, letting the door slam behind him.
“I’m sorry. You know I hate that jerk-off. I mean, I beat the crap out of him and his nose will never look the same.” I almost smiled at that. “Sometimes I just say things without thinking. I just want so badly for you to forget all about him. Please, Candy, forgive me?” He slipped into his infamous puppy-dog face like that would somehow help.
I stood there in silence for a moment, letting him squirm a little before I relented. I could never stay mad at him anyway. “There’s nothing to forgive. I overreacted.” He let out a relieved breath and stepped forward to hug me.
“You know I love you, Mandy.” I nodded into his shoulder. “What he did to you…It’s hard for me to face. I just feel so helpless.” I pulled back and looked at him, surprised. “I should’ve been there for you. I trusted him with you. It’s the dumbest thing I’ve ever done.” His eyes started to water and I drew back further in shock. I’ve never seen Tyler cry. Not even when he broke his collar bone or the Giants lost the Super Bowl. “It was all my fault, Candy. Joking about it…it’s just the only way I know how to deal with it.”
“Tyler,” I said soothingly, reaching up to touch his cheek. He was crying openly now. I could feel my own tears streak my face. “I never knew it affected you so much.” I murmured. He just nodded and wiped his face. “You know it wasn’t your fault. It was no one’s fault but his.” He hugged me again, clearing his throat.
“Well, I’ll let you get ready for school now. It’s a big year, Candy.” He teased, releasing me. I managed a nod and squeezed his hand briefly as he turned to leave. “Oh, and if you ever tell anyone I cried, just remember. I know where you sleep.”
I chuckled through my tears and said simply, “Blackmail.” He grinned at me, knowing I would never dare tell anyone. He walked up the stairs and I shut the door behind him. As soon as the door clicked close, I slumped onto my bed, sobbing.
I took a few minutes to compose myself, but finding I was unsuccessful, I made a dash for the bathroom, locking the door behind me. I turned on the shower and undressed, grateful that the water would cover my uncontrollable sobbing. I thought I was past crying over him. The hot water beat down on my back and I began singing, hoping the song would block the memories attempting to break through the oblivion I banished them to.
“It seems all of these words
Couldn’t be further from the truth
How did I get here, what did I do?” I sang softly as my rebellious mind conjured images of him. I shook my head. I tried unsuccessfully to stop the flow of memories as I thought of the first time we met.4


“Hey, Mandy, wait up!” I turned and smiled at the sound of my older brother’s voice. I spotted him sprinting down the hallway toward me, waving one arm. A sea of female eyes followed him, swooning, secretly wishing it was them he was running to.
“Hey, Candy. What’s up?” he asked upon reaching me.
I moaned. “Ty, I told you not to call me that.”
“I like calling you that.”
“Why?” I questioned, exasperated.
He grinned mischievously and said sarcastically, “’Cause you’re so sweet.” I slapped him on the shoulder and he pretended it hurt. “Anyway, I have someone you have to meet.”
I rolled my eyes. “Oh no, Tyler. Please don’t tell me you’re playing Cupid with your socially-retarded sister again.”
“Just give him a chance, Candy!” He said, obviously put out. “He’s a transfer student from Virginia and he’s the most amazing wide-receiver I’ve ever seen.”
“You’re not being very convincing.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean if you’re trying to convince me to go out with some guy, you probably shouldn’t present his football stats as his most admirable feature.”
“Why not?” He asked, looking thoroughly confused.
“You know, for a womanizer, you really don’t know much about women.” He stuck his tongue out at me.
“Ok fine. He’s my height, straight brown hair, he wants to be a doctor, and I think he has brown eyes but I don’t spend my time oggling at him so how should I know?”
I giggled. “Maybe you do know more about women than I gave you credit for.”
He beamed and said, “What made you change your mind?”
“You totally sound like one.”
“Shut up, Candy.” He growled. “You asked.”
“You’re right. Continue.”
He shifted his weight apologetically and said, “Well, that’s all I know.”
I raised an eyebrow. “And you expect me to date this guy? You don’t even know him.”
He threw his hands into the air. “I didn’t say you had to marry him, Candy! Just meet him.”
“Fine.” I relented. “But he’s gonna take one look at me and split.”
“Candy, you’re beautiful. You’re the only one that doesn’t see it.”
“Yeah…me and everyone else.”
“Hey! My sister is absolutely gorgeous.” I opened my mouth to argue, but he interrupted. “Hey! There he is now! Clark! Come here!”5


“Your eyes telling me lies making me find myself
While you have your agenda, a life to pursue
So please let me free from you
Please let me free, I can’t face the truth”6


I averted my eyes to the floor as one of the most gorgeous males I’ve ever seen ran up to Tyler. They pounded fists and greeted each other with a mutual “Hey man.” I backed up, hoping to slip away unnoticed while they chatted about that morning’s practice.
“Hey, Clark, I want you to meet someone.” Tyler turned back to where I had been. He froze, looking around confused as I turned and started swiftly down the hallway. “What the…? She was right here!”
“She?”
“The girl I wanted you to meet. She’s wearing jeans and a brown shirt. Do you see her?”
“Yeah, man, that narrows it down, thanks.” It was spirit day and our school colors were brown and red.
“Hold up, there she is! Mandy!”
“Shoot,” I cursed as Tyler ran towards me. I knew he’d catch me eventually, so I just stopped and turned to face him. “Yes?” I asked innocently.
“Nice try,” he reprimanded, “But you’re slow.” I mumbled a grudging agreement. I was slow. “Now be a good little girl and follow me.” He grabbed my wrist, not giving me the option to run away again.
Upon reaching the Greek God, Tyler said, “Sorry about that, man. She got lost.” I glared at him then stared at the ground. “This is my sister, Amanda. She’s in your grade. Isn’t she gorgeous?” I looked up at him, shocked he could be so impetuous. I shot him a look that could kill, pinched the back of his arm and stared at my feet.
“Absolutely stunning.” I looked up in shock, sure that Tyler was the one who’d spoken. But it wasn’t. Tyler was grinning at Clark as if he’d just caught the game-winning touchdown. I turned slowly to stare at this intimidating Apollo and our eyes met for the first time. I hoped Tyler could catch me, cause I was sure I was going to faint. He smiled gently at me and held out his hand.
“Hi, I’m Clark Montgomery.”7

“It’s hard to be all alone,
I never got through your disguise.
I guess I’ll just go and face all my fears.
So please let me be free from you.
Please let me be free, I can’t face the truth.” I finished, tears blending in with the relentless pounding from the shower head. Let me be free.8


“Maaandeee!” I heard the squeal from clear down the hallway. I sighed and closed my locker, turning on my heel in time to be slammed into the lockers by a body flying at me.
“Liss, get off!” I growled through the mess of blonde hair smothering me.
“Oh Mandy, I missed you so much!” Annalisa cried.
I reached up and unlocked her arms from around my neck, rubbing my head where it had hit the lockers. She stepped back and I almost groaned. I hated standing next to her. She was absolutely sparkling in her designer mini-skirt, sequin top, and Gucci shoes. She stood on one perfect leg, hand on hip, blonde hair curling perfectly around her face. Why must I be surrounded by America’s Next Top Models?
“What do you mean you missed me? You saw me yesterday, Liss.” I told her.
“But that was summer and now it’s senior year, Dee Dee!” She started bouncing up and down, grabbing my hands and bouncing me along with her. She often reminded me of a five-year-old.
“As if that makes a difference?” I grumbled.
Annalisa pouted. “What’s your problem today, Dee?”
“I’m sorry, Liss. I’ve just had a really bad morning.”
“Do you want to talk about it?” she looked concerned.
I shook my head and for some reason this cheered her up. “Well put on your sexy face, girl! There are senior boys out there waiting!” Right on cue, two jersey-clad jocks walked by, admiring Annalisa. She struck an absurd pose straight out of a magazine and winked. They leered lustfully and a rolled my eyes. She was going to be a handful this year. I grabbed her elbow and pulled her around to face me.
“I don’t have a sexy face. And they’re the same boys as junior year, Liss.” I reminded her as she turned her attention back to me.
“Yeah, but now they’re seniors!” she pressed.
“As if that makes a difference?” I repeated. The bell rang before she could answer and I mumbled something about seeing her later before rushing off to class, hugging my new books.
Walking down the hallway to first period Shakespeare, my eyes shifted nervously from side to side. He was here somewhere. I walked as swiftly as possible, staring at my feet and focusing all my energy on not tripping.
I somehow managed to make it safely to room 132 without falling or embarrassing myself. I slipped quietly into a seat on the front row as the tardy bell rang out its final squeal. The teacher was the same teacher I’d had since freshman year, and I was definitely the teacher pet. He stood from his desk and addressed the class.
“Good morning, students. I trust you’re all in the right class, but just in case, this course is on Shakespeare and his works. If you’re looking for an easy ‘A’, Ceramics meets down the hall.” He waited, but no one moved. “Good. My name is Mr. McArthur.”
He started outlining the course and I tuned out, already aware of the attendance policy and grading rubric. I started writing in a new notebook, breaking it in with some free verse poetry.
“Hello, Ms. Roberts.” I jumped a little as I looked up to see Mr. McArthur standing in front of my desk, his eyes laughing. I glanced around, noticing all the other students were sitting in clumps chatting animatedly about their summer adventures.
“I’m really glad you’re in this class, Amanda.” Mr. McArthur continued. “You’ve always been my best student.”
I smiled brightly. “English is my passion.”
“You’ll be a great writer someday. I can’t wait to tell people I taught you when you win a Nobel Prize.”
I laughed lightly and said, “You’re way too nice.”
He just smiled. “Maybe. What’re you writing?” He asked, glancing at the poetry under my hand. I handed him the notebook and he was silent for a moment while he read.
“It’s very descriptive.” He looked troubled as he said it.
“Well, it’s no Shakespearean sonnet.” I said. “But I was in a rebellious mood and I didn’t want to follow rules.”
“I can understand. It’s a very…emotional poem.”
“Thank you. That’s what I was going for.” I told him as I took the notebook back. He simply nodded and walked away, his face still bothered.
The rest of the class passed quickly. I hurriedly gathered my belongings, anxious to meet my best friend Luke and get to my Creative Writing class. Most of my classes were English classes. I had all the credits required to graduate, so I was taking all the elective classes I wanted. Shakespeare, Creative Writing, College Writing, English Literature, and Journalism made up the majority of my schedule. I was every English teacher’s favorite student and I spent most of my time writing or thinking of new ideas.
Suddenly my books and papers were flying through the air and I was sitting on the floor in the hallway. Dazed, I looked around at all the students staring at me. I shook my head, trying to figure out what had happened. I had been so distracted I hadn’t been watching where I was going and had run into some poor, unsuspecting student, knocking them to the floor. At least, that’s what I guessed as I watched a teenage boy gather up all his papers off the floor. His back was to me, but I knew the back of his head as well as I did the front, having watched it walk away multiple times. Of all the rotten luck.
He turned around and I gasped. He froze, seeing who was sitting on the floor two feet away from him. He glanced around, apparently checking to see if Tyler was anywhere nearby. When he was sure he wasn’t, he turned back to me and grinned a knowing, gruesome grin. I suddenly couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t see anything but his dark, menacing, beautiful face. Tyler was wrong. The beating hadn’t done anything to his nose. He was still as gorgeous as ever. He took a step towards me and I scrambled backwards. I could feel the hot tears streaming down my cheeks as he held out a hand.
“Long time no see.” He leered as he leaned closer. I pushed myself back further and his lustful eyes raked my body.
“Hey, Clark, what the hell do you think you’re doing?” I heard someone say from behind me. I knew that voice. It was Luke here to save me.
“Just trying to help, man.” Clark said defiantly as Luke stepped towards me and crouched down, putting his hand on my shoulder.
“Are you ok, Dee?”
I tried to say ‘yes’, but I choked on the word, my eyes still frozen on Clark’s face.
“What did you do to her?” Luke demanded angrily, standing to face Clark. It was an impressive match. Clark was the new football captain and Luke was captain of the wrestling team. They stared each other down for a minute before Clark answered.
“Hey, I didn’t do anything. She’s the one that knocked me over. If she’d just watch where she’s going…”
“Shut up!” Luke yelled. “Just stay away from her or you’ll answer to me again.” Clark raised his hand and rubbed his jaw, obviously remembering last March when Tyler and Luke had cornered him.
Clark grinned and said, “Whatever, man. It’s not my fault she’s so desperate to see me she had to find a way to bump into me.” A denying sob escaped my throat and Luke cocked his fist.
“What’s going on here?” A teacher’s voice carried over the students’ heads. I scrambled to my feet, grabbed my backpack, broke through the ring of students, running down the hall at top speed. Clark’s sinister chuckle echoed behind me.
“Everyone get to class” the teacher commanded.
“Mandy? Mandy!” I heard Luke call behind me, but I couldn’t go back. I kept running.