Dare (Finding Love Book 1)

Dare

By

Emma Lynn

The house is quiet, something that isn’t normal for a weekend afternoon. Closing the door behind me, I drop my backpack to the floor and glance around. I stand against the door, heart pounding as the only sound comes from the laundry room. With no one home, I finally have the place to myself for once.

I head to the stairs, backpack in hand once again. I’m thinking of reading, or maybe watching my favorite movie when I hear it. Stopping on the first step, I tilt my head to the side and listen for the sound again.

A cry of pain.

My stomach clenches with nerves, and my hands shake. I know what that sound means, and I won’t let him get hurt. Not again. Thoughts of movies and books forgotten, I push away from the stairs and head into the living room, finding it eerily empty. This is his favorite room, and he is almost always in here on the weekends. I stop and listen again before realizing that it’s coming from the office.

I should have known.

I walk over to the office door on wobbly legs. My hand hovers over the golden doorknob, knowing I’ll get hurt for interrupting. But someone has to. Thrusting my shoulders back in mock confidence, I silently count to three, my heart thudding in anticipation. He always says not to interrupt him and that I won’t like the consequences that come with it, but I can’t let him hurt Mo. Not anymore.

Swallowing, I twist the knob and push the door open, not knowing what to expect. As it swings open, the first thing I see is Mo’s body hitting the wall. I run over to him, ignoring the angry presence at the opposite side of the room. “Mo! Mo, are you okay?” I shout, desperately shaking his shoulders.

He moans and I sit back in relief, but it doesn’t last long. I feel him behind me, glaring with the utmost hate. I know he’s waiting for me to face him, so I turn around, my gaze on his large, brown boots. The carpet is an ugly green color, circle shapes of gold in some areas.

“How many times have I told you not to interrupt me, Jennifer?” he asks calmly, slowly, and without emotion. If I look up at his eyes right now, I’ll see the anger, disgust, and hate that betray his voice.

As I continue my wondering of the carpet, I spot blood and inwardly cringe. I wish I was strong enough to stand up to him, to get rid of him once and for all, but I’m not. I’m weak, just like he says I am.

“I’m sorry, Steven.” I hate apologizing to him. I don’t mean it, don’t want to mutter the words to him, but if I don’t, Mo and I will be in even more trouble.

Steven snorts before kicking my leg, hitting the bruise he gave me a few days ago. I can’t hold back the wince and whimper. He hates hearing weakness. “You’ll get what’s coming to you, Jennifer. Don’t worry. Now get out and let me finish with your brother!” He spits down at me before walking over to Mo.

I’m about to stand up, to do something, anything, but then the door opens and I breathe a sigh of relief. “What is going on here?” Mom asks from the doorway, only a minimal amount of concern in her eyes.

Ignoring them, I crawl over to Mo, glad to see that he’s awake. His blue eyes glance over me, looking for any signs of injury. Typical Mo, always looking out for me. We all watch Mo, waiting for an explanation. Of course I know what happened, but Mom doesn’t seem to ever see it. That or she turns a blind eye and lets it happen.

I don’t bother looking up at Steven; I can still feel his glare on us. He’s silently threatening Mo and me not to say anything. I wish we did, but we never do. What can we do? We’re just teenagers and no one will listen to us.

Mo sits up, shaking his head. “Nothing. I tripped and fell against the desk. Steven was just checking my lip,” he mumbles, eyes downcast. I can’t blame him for lying, but I feel disappointed. I shouldn’t, not when I don’t say anything, but I was hoping this time was different. That it was the tipping point.

“Jennifer, take Mo upstairs and clean his cut. Your step-dad and I are going to have a chat,” Mom orders, her brown eyes already set on a fuming Steven.

Nodding, I don’t bother to let myself hope. Every time I do, she crushes the hope away to smithereens. Head pounding now, I help Mo up the stairs and into my bedroom. I feel more secure after I turn the lock, hearing it click into place.

I fall onto my bed and brush the cool red sheets-and stare at the off-white ceiling, dirty from years of dust. “You should have said something.” I immediately regret saying that, but it’s too late now. It’s out there.

He snorts and rolls onto his side to face me. “Are you kidding? There isn’t evidence, Jennifer, there never is. Besides, you could have said something a few days ago.” His eyebrows rise, knowing he has me.

I cover my face with my hands, wiping away the tears that have somehow fallen. I hate crying. “I know. I’m sorry, Mo. I shouldn’t have said that. I know we can’t say anything… I just wish…” I shake my head, knowing that wishing won’t save us. It never has.

Mo nods, his eyes somber as they watch me. “I know. I want us out of here just as much as you do, but we both know that isn’t happening. Not yet at least. We only have three years to go before we’re eighteen. We can do it.” He grabs onto my hand, squeezing gently. I know he’s right. We’ve waited this long, we can keep going.

I hope.

I run my hand through his long, brown hair, messing it all up. “You need a haircut,” I tease him.

He chuckles and pushes my hand away before looking at me again, his eyes shining with tears. “I can’t lose you, sis. I don’t think I can do this without you.” Though he tries to hide it with a cough, I know he’s blinking back tears.

My bottom lip trembles, and I wrap my arms around him. I can’t let him see me cry, I have to be strong for the both of us. “I’m not leaving, Mo. I promise.”

He shakes his head. “You can’t make promises like that.”

Shrugging, I sit back up and look at him. “Yes, I can. I’m the oldest and what I say goes,” I tell him smugly, attempting to lighten the mood. His lips twitch, and I become giddy. That’s why I’m here. To make him laugh, love, and despite all he’s been told, tell him he’s not weak. He’s strong, and I know it.

He doesn’t deserve all of this. The bruises, cuts, and put downs. He should have more in life. He should laugh all the time, joke around and get into trouble. Not hiding behind our doors, waiting in fear and jumping at every sound.

He shoves me away from him with a grin, his usual twinkle back in his eyes. “Come on, Shorty, let’s play a game of Monopoly. And you’re only ten minutes older.”

Rolling my eyes, I hop up and wrap my arm around his stomach. Despite my ongoing joke of him being ten minutes younger, he’s almost six feet tall and uses that to his advantage. “Okay, Stringbean. I get to be the hat this time!”

His eyes widen with mischief. “Oh, not if I get there first!”

For the rest of the day, no one interrupts us. There are no beatings and shouting matches. Instead, we sit outside and enjoy this moment.

I won’t ever forget it.

_*_*_*_

I wake to the sound of voices, quiet whispers that haunt the halls. I lie here, awake and waiting. I’m not sure what for but I know something isn’t right. I can feel it deep down in my bones.
Please, no.

I hear a door close, footsteps that become loud and quiet, as if someone is pacing. Not wanting to wait any longer, I tiptoe to my door and pull it open. No one is in the hall so I step out, waiting for the whispers to reach my ears. The front door. My body tenses, something telling me to stay in my room and be quiet.

My curiosity gets the best of me.

Fingers trailing along the white, crackly walls, I walk down the steps. Time slows; the ground disappears underneath me as I look at Mom and her tear-stained face. Looking between her, Steven - who is looking smug - and the cop at the door, I know.

I should have stayed in my room. Should have stayed asleep, blissfully unaware.

Mom comes over to me, steering my still body away from them. I follow her, completely numb. The talking coming from the front door quiets and I can feel their stares. One with pity, the other anger. I don’t feel or think though. Nothing else matters except for Mo. Just hours ago we were talking, laughing, and playing around.

No, this can’t be real. Maybe I’m wrong.

But as Mom closes her bedroom door behind us, I know it’s true. And as the words spill from her lips, my world crumbles.

Five years later

I step off the bus, a wall of heat instantly hitting me. The AC kept the bus cool during the long drive down here and I long to go back inside. The constant heat here isn’t something I’m familiar with.

The
U
in the bus sign is out and a little crooked. The bus depot is nearly empty, everyone who got off the bus has left, and a mere few are loitering around, waiting for their rides.

Spotting a bench, I head over to it, setting my large duffel bag and one box on the ground by my feet. The cool, metal bench isn’t any more comfortable than the seats on the bus, but at least I’m here. I happen to arrive on a sunny day, something that isn’t surprising for California. It’s going to take some getting used to.

California, so far, looks just like I’ve seen from pictures. Tall buildings, clear blue sky, traffic for miles, and people walking around, lost in their own worlds. No one knows each other; they don’t wave or smile in passing.

When I got the acceptance letter from Sandforth College, I knew it was a sign. I needed to get out of that house, and this was my opportunity. I also knew Mom wouldn’t dare to help me, so I had to get there by myself. Steven had done everything he could to keep me from college, but once I got in, I made sure I did everything I could to go.

It wasn’t easy. I had to get a second job over the summer to afford bus fare and whatever else I have to pay for. Luckily, with the acceptance letter, I got a full scholarship. Guess working hard in school got me something in life.

But the scholarship won’t get me
to
the college.

I look around for a transit bus stop but don’t find one. Why wouldn’t they have one? Frustration bites at me, and I clench my fists before closing my eyes.
Now isn’t the time to freak out.
I’m here in California, about to start college, and begin a new life. This is what Mo and I wanted. A new life, something better than what we had. This, everything I’m doing, is for Mo. The last five years have been hard on me, especially without Mo around to keep me grounded. The house was always tense, and I tried to stay out as long as I could, but some nights my luck ran out. Steven never stopped hitting Mom or threatening me when he thought she wasn’t looking. She always did though. Mom knew what was going on, but did she care enough to stop it? No. She turned a blind eye.

With that small pep talk, I open my eyes just as a taxi stops at the curb. Smiling, I grab my stuff and walk over to the idling car. “Uh, hi,” I lean down and speak through the open window. The man grunts while chewing gum, his dark hair tied back into a bun. “Right. Well, I need a ride.”

I tap my fingers against my jean shorts, feeling awkward and self-conscious. I’ve never had to take a taxi before. Is there a certain way to go about this?

The driver sighs before reaching down, his brown eyes showing annoyance. Seconds later, the trunk releases a click and pops up. “Guess that means I have a ride,” I mutter to myself as I walk to the back of the car.

I toss my duffel bag inside next to my box and close the trunk before walking to the door. Sliding onto the leather seats, I close the door behind me. This is it. I’m finally heading to Sandforth, ready to start my new-

“Where are you going?” The driver gruffly asks, interrupting my inner thoughts.

I fumble, trying to find my words. “Oh, uh. Sandforth College,” I finally say, wincing at how much of an idiot I sound like.

He starts the taxi and pulls out of the bus depot. I lean back against the seat, finally comfortable. I can’t help the giddy smile that spreads across my face. I’ve finally made it out of that house, and now I’m ready to begin anew.

_*_*_*_

After paying the taxi driver and grabbing my stuff, I stand on the curb, looking up at the building before me. Sandforth has many buildings, each containing an apartment of classes. The exterior is yellow brick with white trimming. It looks old, Victorian even. The path that leads to the administrative building has tall Oak trees on both sides of it and a large fountain in the middle.

It’s beautiful.

I walk up to one of the tables that litter the lawn. Seniors sit on the opposite sides, ready to help new freshman to their dorms and answer questions.

I look around as I wait. The breeze is gentle, brushing against my skin like a cool caress. The warmth radiating from the sun shines down, offering a mixture of heat to the cool air. There are a few clouds in the sky, white and fluffy.

“Next.”

Realizing that I’m up, I shove my box forward and attentively smile. Irrational fears hit me all at once. What if no one likes me? What will happen if I don’t like any of my classes? Or professors? I shake my head. I don’t have time for worrying.

“Jennifer Sanderson,” I tell the pretty blonde girl, who smiles a little too brightly.

“Hello! Welcome to Sandforth, we’re happy to have you here!” she sings. I almost take a step back in shock. I’ve never seen someone so…preppy.

“Hey,” I greet, less than enthusiastic.

“So let’s see. Jennifer Sanderson,” she mutters, moving her highlighter down a list. “Oh, here you are. Here are your classes and schedule. A map of the campus and it looks like you’ll be living off campus. Awesome for a freshman.” She winks, her blue eyes wide with laughter.

Wait…
“Off campus? No, I put in for a dorm.” When I talked to my advisor, she said I’ll be living on campus.

Her bright smile dims a bit, and I almost feel guilty until I remember that I don’t currently have a place to stay. “No, sorry. It says here that you’ll be living off campus. If this is a problem, you can head to the main office and get it fixed.”

I stare at her, not entirely sure what to do. Okay, so I left home and came to California only to be told that I don’t have a place to live. I don’t make enough money for that to happen. I want to pull my hair out, I’m so frustrated.

Okay, breathe.

Inhaling, I smile at the girl and turn away. I quickly find the building - thanks to the map - and head inside.

No one else is in here so I walk right up to the desk. An older lady is sitting behind it, black glasses sitting atop her gray hair. She glances up at me with a smile. “Yes, how can I help you?”

Feeling a little calmer, I attempt a smile. Really, I just want to lie down and forget about all of this. “Hi. When I went to sign up, I was told I’m living off campus. I remember choosing to live in a dorm though. I’m hoping to get this fixed.”

The lady nods knowingly. “That is quite a pickle. Let me pull your file. Name?” She waits.

“Jennifer Sanderson.”

I look around the office as she looks for my file. Two chairs are near the door, and a big corkboard hangs on the right wall. A few pamphlets are in a clear box under it.

“Ah, here it is. Let’s see now.” I walk closer and wait as she hums and nods. Shifting, I silently sigh. I’m an impatient person, and after a twenty-one hour bus ride to Oakland, I just want to drop and sleep for days.

She looks up, sympathy in her green eyes. “Sorry, Ms. Sanderson. It looks like our papers got mixed up while filing it all. Unfortunately, we won’t have a room ready for you for a few weeks. Is there any place you can stay?”

I gawk. I can’t help it. After all this time, I get here and I have nowhere to stay. I’m homeless with a duffel bag and a box. “Uh, no. I wasn’t expecting this,” I finally say.

She looks at me with a frown. “Well, I’m sorry about all of this, but there may be something on the corkboard over there.” She points to the wall hopefully.

Clenching my hands, I walk over to the board. I glance over everything, not finding anything having to do with places to stay. Dog walking, bake sale, flower sale, pie eating contest, and a coupon for free hugs. Rolling my eyes, I continue looking before finding something.

The paper says two girls are looking for a third roommate before school starts. It has a number and address on the bottom.

Grabbing my old flip phone, I go to dial when I realize something: it’s dead.
Of course
.

Groaning, I slip it back into my pocket. “Looks like I’m in for a walk,” I tell the lady, who smiles brightly. “Could you tell me where this is?” I ask her, showing the address.

After she gives me directions, I slide my duffel on my shoulder and grab my box. I head out, not allowing myself to be hopeful this time.

_*_*_*_

Standing in front of the door, I stare at the B8. It’s a good thing it’s only a thirty minute walk from the college. The apartment complex I found is huge. And expensive looking. There is no way I can afford this, but I came all the way here and it’s my only chance.

My hand is in a fist, ready to knock, when the door swings open to reveal a tall girl with green cream on her face and a short, satin robe. She stares at me in shock.

“I’m sorry! I found your ad at the college, and I was going to call but my phone died. I thought I would just come here, but I guess I should have called first,” I say, biting my lip. A bundle of nerves resides at the bottom of my stomach, and I shift nervously, awaiting her answer.

She smiles. “Yay! About time someone found the ad! School starts in a week!” She claps her hands, seeming to have forgotten that she’s wearing nothing but a robe.

“Yeah, I know,” I deadpan.

She keeps smiling. “Come in! We can chat!”

I follow her inside, closing the door behind me. To the left is a dark, round table with four chairs, a few magazines and open books lying on it. On the right side of the room is a light brown couch, a black recliner, and coffee table, also full of magazines. There is a large TV, a bin full of what must be DVD’s under it.

I follow the girl as she walks straight ahead, revealing a kitchen. It’s wide and open, visible from the front door. “Want water or something?” she asks, pointing to the fridge.

“Sure, thanks.” I take it from her, twisting the top off. It’s refreshing after being out in the sun all day.  “Your place is amazing,” I tell her. It’s the truth. It really is amazing, though anything is better than where I grew up.

She beams, wisps of black hair falling from a small ponytail. “Thanks! I wanted it to say ‘comfort.’” She spreads her hands out to her sides. “Oh, by the way, I’m Jaclyn! It’s nice to meet you, and thank you for coming to visit. I always love the unexpected!”

I chuckle, feeling somewhat light for the first time in a while. “No problem. Seeing your ad was a life saver, I assure you. And I’m Jennifer.”

“Nice to meet you, Jennifer. Have a seat while I wash this off.” She points to the cream on her face before heading down the hall. I sit down on the couch, feeling slightly off kilter. Seconds later I hear her groan, following a, “Shit pancake!”

I cover my mouth with my hand, nearly falling off the couch with laughter. Shit pancake? What does that even mean?

“Sorry about that!” she says as she rushes over to the couch. “Hope you aren’t offended by curse words! It’s my downfall in life.” She mock frowns before laughing. “So, you want to live here? I like you already.”

I nod nervously.
Time for business.
“Yes, I do. It’s just that, honestly, I don’t think I can afford this,” I wave my hand around. “I was supposed to be in the dorms, but something went wrong and I have nowhere else for now.”

I pick at my cuticles, bravely looking at Jaclyn. Her face is a mask of indifference, a huge 180 from a few seconds ago. It’s now that I
see
her. Especially the pain in her hazel eyes.

She slowly nods, starting to smile again. “Okay, we’re good then.” She stands up and walks over to my duffel, picking it up with a grunt while I watch in confusion.

And a little bit of hope.

“Wait, that’s it? I live here? I can’t pay this month’s rent. In fact, I don’t think I can pay the first few months,” I point out.

She lazily waves her hand. “Oh, its fine. I don’t need someone to help pay rent. My father covers this place. I just wanted another roommate!”

I’m about to tell her I
will
pay rent but stop myself. I can’t do anything right now, and telling her I’ll be paying for myself to live here isn’t a good idea. The dorm will be ready in a few weeks, and then I’ll leave. What’s bad about staying here until then?

Decision made, I stand up, ready to thank her, when the door opens up and another girl walks in.