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Page 2
“Good, ain’t it?” Danny laughed at the repulsed expression I surely wore.
“Not really.”
Both boys laughed as they continued to finish their beer.
“I almost forgot,” Danny blurted out after a few minutes, reaching inside his leather jacket.
Jackson and I glanced at each other before turning our attention back to Danny.
“I’m full of presents tonight.” He chuckled as he held up a skinny joint and then held it under his nose, inhaling deeply with a huge grin. It wasn’t even lit yet, and he was already so happy with it.
Like I said, boys are strange.
These boys, anyway. Maybe it was all of them, I didn’t know very many that well. But these two were definitely odd. But I didn’t mind. They were my only real friends. Weird or not.
“Fire it up.” Jackson grinned, his worried expression from moments ago long gone.
I watched as Danny pulled the lighter from the pocket in his jeans and lifted the flame to the twisted end of the paper. I stared at the fire as the familiar smell filled our shed. Danny inhaled deeply and tried to hold his breath before letting out a choking cough.
“Puff, puff, pass, dude,” Jackson demanded, holding out his fingers anxiously.
Danny laughed through his coughs and handed the joint to Jackson. He took a long, drawn-out hit before passing it back in Danny’s direction.
“You forgot Rachel,” Danny reminded him with a quiet snicker, his eyes squinted and red as he nodded in my direction.
“She doesn’t smoke.” Jackson blew him off, shaking his head and offering the joint back to Danny.
I stared down at the ground and picked at the loose fibers on the blanket that covered the dead grass and dirt. It was true. I had never smoked pot before. I didn’t really have the desire to.
Pot reminded me of him.
And I hated him.
But out here, away from that house, I could forget about him for a little while. Even when the familiar smell lingered around me, my friends were a welcome distraction. Besides, even high, they were nothing like him. They got giggly and stupid when they smoked. It was fun to watch. He was never fun. He was just the opposite.
“Let her decide,” Danny coaxed. “It’s no big deal, dude.”
Jackson dropped his head, scratching his fingernails along his worn jeans. I knew he wanted to protect me, but he also didn’t want to fight with Danny.
“I’m good, thanks,” I muttered and glanced over at Jackson who let out a quiet exhale.
“Suit yourself.” Then Danny pulled in a deep inhalation from the joint, smoke billowing around him.
“Pass it, bro. Fucking stingy, man.” Jackson held his hand out impatiently. There was no sign of worry or anger. Maybe I imagined it.
We spent the next hour or so talking about music and where we wanted to go when we were finally old enough to get out of this town—at least off this old, fucked-up road.
This place. My friends.
My only escape.
“My hands hurt,” Sara whimpered while we walked through the woods beside our house.
“I know, but if we get plenty now, we won’t have to come back out here for the rest of the day. Just stop whining,” I scolded her and put a few dead branches in her arms.
I hated hearing her complain—my hands hurt, too. The wind whipped across my skin and all I wanted was to just get warm.
“Jackpot.” I spotted a pile of brush a few feet away. I knew it was dead enough to burn easily, and I wouldn’t have to fight to keep the flames going. The thought of warmth caused me to move faster. I ran as quickly as my frozen legs would take me to the treasure chest we’d found and scooped a few more branches into my arms as swiftly as I could, anxious to get back inside and out of the wind.
I squatted, then dropped to my knees, my legs buckling beneath the pain of the frigid chill in the air, and I noticed Sara bouncing back and forth from one foot to the other.
“What are you doing, weirdo?” I asked with a small giggle before turning my attention back to the task at hand.
“I have to pee. Shut up,” she barked at me, her bouncing becoming more pronounced by the second.
My worry took front and center as I stacked the dead brush against my chest as fast as my aching arms would allow. I had to get her back to the house before she had an accident. The thought of that happening made me nauseous. I knew she must have kidney problems or something—she had way too many accidents for a nine-year-old. The school nurse even sent a note home to Mama, but there wasn’t much she could do. Doctors were expensive, and we just didn’t have the money. It made me sad for my sister because I knew she got embarrassed, even though she’d never say so. It also made me sad for Mama, because I knew she wanted to make my little sister better, and she felt helpless.
I glanced toward the house and spotted the old, beat-up car that belonged to Duane and knew we had to get inside before Sara wet her pants.
“Come on, let’s go. Hurry.” I nudged her with my shoulder, and with increasing speed, headed toward the house.
“Is this enough?” she asked, but didn’t hesitate to follow right behind me.
“It’s fine.” Although, I knew it probably wasn’t. I’d have to come back out here later when Duane barked orders at me. God forbid he actually try to help our family stay warm. But right now, his selfishness didn’t matter; I had to get Sara to a bathroom.
It was the evil that coursed through his veins I had to worry about. I didn’t want her to deal with him if she wet her pants. He said horrible things to her and would almost make her cry. She never shed a tear, but it was written all over her face. He’d make fun of her—like a bully she couldn’t escape. I hated him with every breath I took—I’d never understand why he was so mean.
Sara dropped the branches on the front porch and barged through the door, running straight for the bathroom. I said a quick prayer that she made it in time. I said a lot of prayers. Most of the time, nothing changed, but I kept praying. God had to hear me at some point. He was busy, but I needed His help, too.
“Quit running in the fucking house!” Duane’s voice roared through the stagnant air.
I kept my mouth shut as I carried a load of wood into the living room, dropping it gently into the bucket that sat next to the fireplace. I didn’t make eye contact with him, although I could feel him staring at me. I glanced sideways, noticing the rusty car part that sat on his lap. He constantly worked on crap like that. I always wondered why he didn’t use all that free time to get a job and help Mama out. But I never said that to him—although I wanted to. I kept my opinion to myself as I turned on my heel to grab the rest of the branches Sara had left at the door.
When I dropped the second load, I stood and started to walk back to our bedroom, hoping to avoid any type of interaction with him. My stomach began to turn.
“Where are you going?” He gave me a vomit-inducing grin. His chapped lips surrounding the yellow in his teeth almost made me cringe, but I knew I had to hide it.
“To my room; I have homework,” I lied, my voice hardly a whisper. I just wanted to get away from him. Mama was at work, and I wanted the protective barrier my bedroom door provided. My body trembled from the inside as I shuffled away from the fireplace and him.
“Oh yeah, I forgot. You’re the smart one. The one who thinks she’s better than everyone.” He began to ramble, and I knew I should stop and wait for him to finish ranting. He always got pissed when I tried to walk away.
But I didn’t stop, I just kept moving.
“You ain’t shit,” he emphasized as I turned the corner and closed the bedroom door behind me, letting out a shaky breath.
I glanced over and saw Sara standing in the corner, fear covering her face. I didn’t need to ask when I saw the wet spot that covered the front of her pants.
“I tried to make it,” she whispered so quietly that it was almost inaudible.
“It’s okay,” I answered, hoping to ease her worry.
“Just change, hurry.” I glanced behind me, saying another prayer that the door didn’t fly open.
“But I can’t wash them, he’ll see.” She started to panic while sliding out of her pants as fast as she could. We had to wash our clothes in the bathtub since the washing machine had broken a few months ago. Duane would know exactly what happened if he saw her. And then he would break her down with words, and she didn’t deserve that.
“Just hurry,” I whispered, pulling a small, tattered blanket from the top of our closet before grabbing the soiled pants and panties out of Sara’s hand.
I wadded the dirty clothes and wrapped the blanket around them, hoping to shield the smell, before shoving them under our bed.
“What if he finds it?” The fear in her voice was undeniable.
“We’ll wash them when he leaves,” I mouthed as Sara slid into a pair of clean sweatpants.
“Okay,” she replied, and I could see the worry fade just a little.
“Just forget about it for now.” I turned on the radio that was attached to my alarm clock. The channel was full of static, but it brought some sense of life to our room.
“I want to go watch TV.” She stood and started to walk to the door.
“Don’t.” I couldn’t hide the aggravation in my tone as I flopped down on the bed with my library book, anxious to escape reality.
“Why?” she whined.
“He’s in there. Just don’t,” I begged, not wanting him to notice she was in different pants and put the two together.
“Fine.” Her shoulders slumped in defeat, and she let out a huff before falling onto the bed next to me. “I wish he would leave.” Her eyes darted to the door, fearing he might hear her words.
“Join the club,” I muttered and opened my book. “Now be quiet.” I needed to escape, if only for just a little bit.
The school bus came to a slow stop, the squeaking sound of the brakes reverberating through the air. I glanced behind me as I stood, making sure Sara was paying enough attention to realize this was our stop. Right on cue, she slid into the aisle and followed closely behind without a word. I glanced out the window as I walked and noticed a lean figure slumped against the ancient oak tree at the end of our driveway. A huge grin crossed my lips—I hadn’t seen Jackson in over a week. I hated that he rode a different bus, and since he’d gotten grounded, his parents kept him on lockdown. Literally. They decided to nail his window shut, leaving him unable to escape into the night, which left no time to see each other.
“What’s he doing?” Sara giggled as she hopped off and landed on the country road.
“Not sure.” I was equally curious.
Jackson didn’t move until the bus started to drive away, then he slowly stood and dusted off the back of his faded jeans with his hands.
“What are you doing here?” Sara’s blunt question caused a grin to appear on his face. But it was overshadowed by the dark ring under his left eye. My stomach turned at the sight.
“I came to see you, kid.” Jackson pulled a sandwich bag full of chocolate Santas out of his coat pocket and tossed them in her direction.
“Awesome, thanks! But you’re a liar.” Her face lit up as she tore into the plastic, pulled a piece of candy out, and unwrapped it in record time.
Candy rarely made an appearance at our house. It was a luxury we couldn’t afford, and really was the least of our worries in the grand scheme of things. But still, it was nice to see her happy.
“So what’s up?” I stared up at him, trying not to focus on the bruise, but it didn’t work. Sara had started to stroll down the driveway, unwrapping another chunk of Christmas chocolate.
“Don’t eat all of those at once,” I yelled ahead to Sara, who would ignore my demand. “Save some for later.” I rolled my eyes and turned my attention back to Jackson.
“Can you go for a walk?” His eyes moved to the end of our winding driveway as we turned the corner.
I stared at the house, not seeing his car and realizing how much I had missed Jackson. I threw caution—and probably all common sense—to the wind before answering. “Sure.”
“Cool.” His quiet mumble gave me unexplainable butterflies.
“Sara, wait!” I called, watching as she stopped in her tracks and turned back to face me. “Just go inside, okay? I won’t go far or be long.”
“Okay.” Her chocolate-covered teeth made an appearance behind a genuine smile—a little sugar had given my baby sister a few minutes of pure bliss. “Just be back before Mama gets home from work.” She glanced back and forth between the two of us before tucking the remaining candy into her coat pocket.
“I won’t be long,” I repeated.
Mama didn’t get off work until eight tonight, but it wasn’t her I was worried about. I wanted to be back before Duane got home. Not that he would care if I was there, but I needed to keep an eye on Sara. I didn’t trust him—at all.
We walked for a few minutes in silence, our feet shuffling down the familiar dirt road.
“So when did it happen?”
Jackson shoved his hands into his pockets and kicked a rock that lay in front of us. “The other day. He swore I stole the car and parked it crooked in the driveway. The dumbass drove it home from the bar. I never touched it.” A humorless laugh escaped his lips.
“Asshole.” I didn’t understand why men were so mean. Maybe it wasn’t all of them. Just the ones I knew. I shook my head, disgusted with the entire adult male population.
Jackson turned on his heel and made his way into the woods, so I followed directly behind him, unsure of where we were going, yet following without question. Apparently, not far. He stopped next to a large tree, leaned against it, and gave me a mischievous grin.
“What?” I cocked my head, trying to figure out what he was smiling about.
“Can I tell you something?” As he spoke, he cracked his knuckles, a nervous habit of his.
“Yeah…” I stared up at him, watching and waiting.
But he didn’t speak. He leaned in and pressed his cold lips against mine. I remained still, completely frozen, unsure of what to do. Shock ran through me.
He’s kissing me. Jackson is kissing me. I’m getting kissed.
But still, I remained a statue.
“Sorry.” He looked embarrassed as soon as he pulled away, his downcast eyes staring at the dead leaves surrounding our feet.
I should speak. I knew that. But the words wouldn’t come. I just had my first kiss, and I was completely dumbfounded. I was pretty sure this wasn’t the way it was supposed to work. The girls on TV never stood there like an idiot when their lips were met by those of another. They responded. They kissed back. They puckered their lips. Something. Anything.
“I shouldn’t have done that. I know I’m older, and it’s probably weird. We’re friends. I’m sorry.” His rambling brought a smile to my face as I watched how uncomfortable he became.
“Jackson.”
His eyes met mine at the sound of my quiet voice.
“You’re the only one who gets me.” His voice was soft, much softer than I’d ever heard, and my heart began to pound against my chest. Because he was right. But I didn’t just get him. It worked both ways. He got me, too.
“I just wasn’t expecting it.” I bit my bottom lip, trying to keep it from trembling.
“I know.” A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth.
“Try it again,” I said before exhaling a nervous breath, waiting.
He blinked a few times before leaning closer to my face, pressing his lips gently against mine. They were warmer this time, softer. I returned his display of affection, but my body stiffened when he placed his hand on my hip. Mine remained at my sides, and I was okay with that. This was all so new.
“I better go.” His hot breath drifted over my face once our lips parted.
I swallowed hard. My mind raced as I tried to make sense of the last few minutes. “Okay.”
“You need to go, too.” He ruffled my hair like a chi
ld before turning his back to me and disappearing into the woods.
He was right, and I started to move my feet, adrenaline coursing through my veins. My walk turned into a full sprint as I made my way down the dirt road and then my driveway. I glanced to the side, hoping for some sign of Jackson. I didn’t see him, but I could feel him.
Somehow, I knew he was watching. I couldn’t hide the grin on my face as I continued to run, only stopping when I reached the side door.
But just because my feet stopped, it didn’t change my smile. That remained there the rest of the night.
12 days.
It had been twelve days of perfection. In the world I lived in, anyway. Duane hadn’t come home in almost two weeks. I knew it made me selfish, so I didn’t let my excitement show, but deep down, I felt like I could breathe. I felt like I could let my guard down. I looked over at Sara watching cartoons, plopped down right in front of the TV. She was smiling and mindlessly munching on saltine crackers. I didn’t have to keep as close of an eye on her with him gone. And I actually did my homework on the couch in the living room instead of retreating to my room as soon as I came home from school.
Even though his absence made things harder on Mama, it was nice not to worry about what he might do every second of the day. But Mama missed him, and I knew it. I didn’t understand it, but I was just a kid. I knew she wanted him around, although I couldn’t imagine why—other than the fact that she was left without a ride to and from work each day he was gone. That was hard on her. She had to leave an hour and a half earlier each morning just to get to work on time. I felt guilty that she had to walk almost three miles, but thankfully, since winter was coming to an end, the weather had been mild lately.
But it wasn’t just the rides that Mama missed—it was Duane. She hadn’t said much in the past few days. I caught her crying in her room, and I wanted to scream at her. But of course, I didn’t. I knew yelling at her would’ve probably made me a bad daughter, but I didn’t understand what she could possibly miss about him. So instead, I pretended I didn’t see her tears when she quickly wiped them away.