C7 Chelsea

"Will I see you later?" I stand on my tiptoes, circle my arms around Jason's neck. "Depends," he mutters against my mouth while peering over my shoulder.

I chew the inside of my cheek before questioning, "Depends on what?"

Once again, Jason's eyes dart behind my back before concentrating on me, "On whether you want to."

Tauntingly, I lean closer, "Of course, I want to, or I wouldn't be asking."

Jason glances over my shoulder once again, "I love you, Chelsea."

"I love you too, Jason," I whisper.

He lowers his lips to mine, taking a moment to breathe me in. Rapidly, I dive into his arms, wrapping myself entirely around him. Immediately, he scoops me in his arms and holds me firmly against him, "You're too tall, Jason. At least in this position, we're on the same level." I assert, jokingly.

I lean my face closer until our lips are touching, "I'm sorry about your father," I speak sincerely.

"Can you be any more perfect than what you already are?" He questions, melting my heart again.

Jason kisses me slowly as he glides his hand up my back, tangles my hair around his hand. Hastily, our tender kiss turns rough, filling my body with need.

Jason kisses me desperately as if he's terrified I won't be here when he comes back.

I return the same want and need, wiggling my ass in his hands, "I need you so much right now." I admit, breathlessly.

"Later," He kisses me. "I'll fuck you like you've never been fucked before," His words turn me on even more.

Quickly, I cover his mouth with my hand, "Shut up, Jason. You can't speak like that right now if you're not going to make love to me." I purr, "You have no idea how much I want you right now." I squeeze my legs together tightly, trying to calm the throbbing between my thighs.

"If I didn't have homework, I wouldn't even leave." Ugh, I don't even want to think about homework. I have a stack of papers waiting for me to finish, yet I've been procrastinating.

As I drift down Jason's body, he thrusts his hips forward, allowing me to feel his hard-on. "You're not the only one." He kisses my cheek, "I'll see you later, Chelsea." He declares before striding out of the door.

"Are you finished boo loving?" Kevin's voice startles me.

"Awe, Kevin, is your bedpost empty?" I fake pout.

"By choice," he claims. "I thought I had a chance. Apparently, I don't." I quirk an eyebrow as I watch him storm off.

After yesterday, I have nothing to say to him. Clearly, he hasn't accepted the fact I have a boyfriend.

Instead of worrying about Kevin, I grab a can of soda, flop on the couch to watch 'This Is Us.' After everything that had taken place yesterday, I think 'me' time is precisely what I need at the moment.

Unfortunately, 'me' time doesn't occur in the house where Kevin lives. His voice thunders throughout the room, "Did you fuck him?"

"Really, Kevin?" What's it any of your business? You're not my boyfriend, so stop pretending like you are." All the irritation from last night rushes back.

I take this opportunity to release the anger I've been harboring inside. "You have no right to question me about who I am in a relationship with, especially when you have repeatedly brought girls into this house. Not once have I questioned you about your sex life. I don't know if this is a pissing contest for you or a challenge. Anyways, it doesn't matter. I won't have you disrespecting me. My mother and your father might believe it's fucking cute. However, I don't. So, don't think for even a second, that you can blow a couple of kisses my way, and I'll climb into your bed and fill the empty spot." I jump up from the couch, loathing the fact that I can't have a peaceful moment to myself regardless of how hard I try.

Kevin seizes my arm, "I've never claimed you were anything like those girls I have fucked. It's because you're unique that I love you. It's because you don't eat the shit I ditch, and bow down to me, that I want you."

I sigh, "Kevin, you don't love me. You're in love with the idea of me. But, I think it is more of a game for you, Kevin."

He crosses his arms, "Bull-shit, Chelsea, and you know it. I can still remember what you were wearing the first time I met you. I remember you holding your mother's hand and not leaving her side for even a second. I might have only been thirteen, but I was a teenage boy going through puberty. Therefore, I had no trouble spotting a beautiful girl, and you, Chelsea, knocked the wind from me. When you first spoke, I asked my Father if you were a singer because your voice boomed like a melody."

His body goes limp, "It wasn't until this past year you and I fell apart. Particularly because I overheard our parents speaking about eloping. I tried to hate you and couldn't, Chelsea. Don't you remember all those times we would stay up and sit on the porch under the stars while our parents were sleeping? Or how we would sneak off and leave our friends, so it would just be us? I might have done simple shit to get on your nerves, but I've never done anything to truly hurt you, let alone disrespect you."

I square my shoulders, "You've never done anything to hurt me, Kevin? Really?" I inch backward as I speak, making sure to leave after I get the last word, "You changed, Kevin. You and Jason were the only friends I had, and you dropped me like I meant nothing to you. You've brought females in here after I moved in, knowing I would hear you having sex with them. The sweet boy I met five years ago isn't the boy standing in front of me. You used to make me feel like I mattered until a year ago when you decided you needed a distraction. So, it's your fault we walked down separate paths. I'm still me," I say, waving my hands down my body, "You're the one who changed." I advise him as I leave the house, slamming the door, making sure I don't give him another chance to speak.

***

When I left the house, I didn't have a destination in sight. However, it doesn't take me long to realize I'm parked outside of a house I have embedded in my brain.

I'm unsure of why I even came here. Perhaps deep down inside, there are questions I need to be answered.

It seems that my father has made quite the living for himself. Though, I'm judging from the outside looking in. Still, I recognize money when I see it. My fathers, his house and vehicles are screaming dollar signs.

At this moment, I realize why it was so easy for him to leave me in the past. Evidently, he has started over and established a new life for himself. And, in the process of doing so, he forgot about the family he previously had.

Lazily, I wander up the driveway, knock on the door. An older man with salt and pepper color hair answers, "We're not interested in anything you're selling." He spews before granting me the chance to speak.

The older man attempts to slam the door. However, I stop him by slapping my palm against the door. Immediately, I scrunch my nose in disgust, "I'm not selling anything, John." I advise him. "I came to say hello, Dad," I retort crudely.

"Who is it, Daddy?" A little girl comes running toward John.

Standing there next to her father, who is also my father, gapes at me with little curious deep blue eyes. "Are you my new babysitter?" She questions.

I'm stuck in a stupor, incapable of responding to the little girl who is a miniature version of myself.

This little girl has the same spiral curls I have, except her hair is shorter than mine. Her hair hangs a bit past her shoulders while mine hangs midway down my back. What shocks me the most is that her eyes are the same color, blue as mine.

"No, baby, that's not your babysitter," Dad explains. "She is your sister," he says.

I snap my eyes back toward him and notice he's fidgeting like he's lost at the moment, unsure of what he should do next.

"Daddy told me about you." The little girl says while holding our father's hand.

I attempt to smile but fail. "My mother told me about you," I reply to the little girl while staring harshly at my father.

"She's innocent, Chelsea." He crouches to the little girl's level, "Go in the kitchen and wait there for me." She smiles lovingly at him, "Okay, Daddy."

She looked at him with so much love like I did once upon a time. Presently, I stand here feeling so much hate as he invites me inside,

"Would you like to come inside?" I nod and accompany him inside.

"That's Emily," He notifies me as he points to the little girl. After all these years, I've finally learned the name of my little sister.

The little sister I've never met until I made the first move.

The little sister who received all her father's love while he abandoned me as if I didn't exist.

He pours me a glass of ice tea, "You can sit. I'm sure you've got questions."

I awkwardly take a seat, "How could you leave me and never turn back?" I ask bluntly since I don't understand how he could leave me to raise another child and pretend I wasn't here.

"I couldn't do it, Chelsea." He massages his temples, "I couldn't handle coming to your mother's house to visit, knowing she had another man in the house that would someday replace me."

I loom closer, attempting to whisper, hoping Emily doesn't overhear, "So you replaced me? You were my father, and you made it seem so easy to walk away from me. How the hell do you think mom felt when you cheated on her and created another family?"

His body goes limp, "I'm sorry, Chelsea. I made so many mistakes, and I regret so many choices I made along the way. I'm sorry, I don't regret Emily."

I snap my eyes toward him, "But, you regret me?"

Alas, his body slacks as tears form in his eyes, "Not at all. I don't regret you at all."

"I see you're still famous for your lies." I snort. "I'm sorry for coming.

Clearly, coming here was a mistake." I'm unsure of why I even came to visit. Evidently, I have too much hostility inside of me for what he had done.

"Please don't leave, Chelsea." He requests. "Give me a chance to fix this."

I smack the table, making a thumping noise, "You've had plenty of time to fix this. We wouldn't even be sitting here at the moment if I hadn't come."

He jumps to his feet in defense, "Stop making me out to be the bad guy. I've always watched over you even though I wasn't around. I'm the reason you have a credit card in your purse and never have to work a day in your life. I kept my eyes on you throughout the years and made sure your mother raised you with love and her new boyfriend wasn't mean to you. I might have left your mother Chelsea, but I've never strayed far from you."

Moms never told me he helped support me. She handed me my credit card on my eighteenth birthday and advised me to do as I pleased.

From the moment dad had walked out, my mother has always made it seem like she has done everything independently with no help.

I suck back a sob while staring at the guy who was once the best father a girl could ever wish for.

Emotions are choking me, making it impossible to speak, "Mom's never told me you helped with anything. She forced me to believe you hadn't wanted me."

He looks down to the floor, using the table to brace himself, "I wanted you, Chelsea. I pleaded with her to allow me to bring you to my home instead of visiting with you at her house. She refused because of her hatred toward me. She allowed her jealousy to interfere with me being your father."

For five years, mom made me believe that my father was jealous of Virgil, and that's the reason he never came around, "Mom said Virgil was the reason you left." I inform him.

"He was part of the reason but not the entire reason. Your mother and I argued every time I visited you. I can't blame your mother since I wronged her, but she pulled you into the middle. I couldn't sit in Dorothy's house with her and Virgil watching me spend time with you, so I left even though it wasn't easy for me to do." He rubs the back of his neck before continuing, "Every time I look at Emily, she reminds me of you." I feel like he replaced me with his other daughter.

I glance over to Emily, who I had forgotten about. She's sitting in the chair, glancing back and forth at her father and me.

I realize it's not her fault.

She's as innocent as me.

However, that doesn't stop me from feeling jealous. She's gotten all our father's attention while I got none.

I snatch my purse, storm toward the door, "Can you come to my birthday party? I'm going to be six-years-old." She holds up six little fingers as she asks.

"Her birthday party is Saturday, Chelsea. We'd love to have you." Dad adds.

"I've always wanted a sister," Emily says cheerfully.

A red hair woman steps through the door as I stand here contemplating on leaving. Dad looks at the woman as he introduces me, "This is Chelsea,"

The little girl runs toward the woman, "Mommy, did you buy me the bike I wanted for my birthday?" I gasp.

This is Lori.

The woman who started a relationship with my father while he was still married to my mother.

As I glare at this woman with hatred flashing in my eyes, I realize I've made a mistake by coming here.

This is the bitch that shattered my life. Moreover, I can't stand to be in the same room as her. She will always be in the family picture since she and my father share a child together.

Without saying goodbye, I storm out of their happy home. Importantly, I don't glance back.

As much as I would love to be the big sister Emily deserves since she's as innocent me. I'm still uncertain if I could forgive my father or his wife for breaking my once happy family apart, leaving me without my father, the man I looked up to all my life who was a hero in my blue eyes.