Eleanor & Grey(91)

Lorelai was fully awake now, glaring out of the window at her sister. “What’s wrong with Karla?” she asked, confused.

“Stay here, Lorelai,” Greyson ordered as he and I got out of the car.

We walked over to Karla, and looked at her, and a strong stench hit our noses as we grew closer and closer. There were some liquids all over her and what looked to be pieces of trash, stuck to her clothes.

“Karla?” I whispered, and she jumped, alarmed, as if someone was going to attack her.

“Leave me alone!” she hollered, wide-eyed as she looked around. When she realized it was me, she took a deep breath. “Eleanor.” She stood to her feet and then saw Greyson and her eyes filled with fear. “You told him? I told you not to tell him!”

“I had to, Karla, he’s your father.”

She looked at Greyson and began shaking, as if she knew exactly how much trouble she was in. “Dad, look, I’m sorry, okay?” Tears started streaming down her face as her small frame shook. “I know you’re upset and you won’t trust me ever again, but look, you don’t get it. Nobody gets it.”

“Gets what, Karla?’ I asked, because Greyson was standing there speechless, and I wasn’t even sure what emotions were running through him. I couldn’t tell from his stance. I couldn’t tell from his facial expressions. He just seemed frozen in place.

“I’m lonely!” she cried out, tossing her hands in the air. “I have no friends, and everyone hates me and makes fun of me every day. Every day is hard, and you guys don’t understand. Nobody understands! I just thought when my old friends called me to hang out that maybe I was being let back into our friendship group, I just thought, I thought, I th…” Her words were so jumbled and shaky that they grew harder to understand as she sobbed nonstop. “I’m sorry, Dad, okay? I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m—”

Before she could continue, before she could push one more apology out of her mouth, Greyson stepped in and wrapped his arms around her. He pulled her in so tightly that she wouldn’t have been able to let him go if she wanted to. She kept saying the words I’m sorry to Greyson, and he held her so close to him.

“It’s all right, Karla. You’re all right, I got you.” He held her as she sobbed into his arms.

“You’re never going to forgive me,” she cried. “I keep messing up.”

“Hey, hey, look at me.” Greyson pulled away from her and bent down to look her in her eyes. “You are my daughter. I am always going to be here for you.”

That just made her cry harder and wrap her arms around him, burrowing herself against him.

My heart was breaking for Karla. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what she’d been going through.

“Karla. What happened tonight?” Greyson asked once he and his daughter finally let go of each other.

She rubbed her left hand up and down her right arm, that was covered in some kind of junk. “Missy called me and asked if I wanted to hang out. I thought it was some kind of joke because she spent the past year ignoring me since she started dating Colton Stevens, a senior jerk, and well, Colton said he wouldn’t date her if she hung out with a freak like me.”

“Who’s Missy?” I asked.

“Karla’s old best friend,” Greyson answered. “Go on. She called you and what?”

“Well, she and Colton came and picked me up, saying they wanted to make up for not talking to me. They wanted to take me to a party at his parents’ house, since they were out of town, so after some convincing, I agreed to go. Then, I got here, and everyone just started calling me a freak, and they…they…” Her eyes watered over and she shivered, clearly reliving what had happened. “They said that my face looked like trash, so I should smell like it, too. And they all started dumping stuff on me, and rubbing raw meat and crap against me.”

Greyson was visibly livid. He glanced to the house. “Stay here, Karla.”

“What? No, Dad! You can’t—”

“I said stay here,” he ordered, marching straight for the house where the party was currently taking place. He pounded his fist on the front door. When a boy answered it, he had a smug look on his face.

“Uh, yeah?” he said, looking at Greyson.

“Are you Colton?” Greyson asked. “This your house?”

“Yeah?”

Greyson pointed to Karla. “Did you do this to my daughter?”

Colton looked down at Karla and then chuckled a little. “No, I think the tree did that to her when she got fucked up last year.”

Greyson tensed up and his hand formed a fist. The moment I saw this, I hurried up to the porch and stepped between the two.

“Greyson. Breathe.”

“Yeah, old man. You might have a heart attack,” Colton remarked, looking smug as ever. I wanted to hit him, too. “Hey, look everyone. Hunch called her daddy to come save the day. He smells just as bad as she does,” he joked, looking back into his house and making his friends laugh.

“Listen, you little shit,” Greyson hissed, his hands gripped tighter than ever before. “If you ever come near my daughter again, or say some bullshit about her, I’m going to—”

“Going to what? Kick my ass? Newsflash, old-timer, I’m seventeen. If you lay a hand on me, I will call the cops. You can’t hit a minor. I’m not stupid.”