The poor guy who’d collided with me had probably carried bruises from me hitting him. I pictured him showing them off to his friends as he told them about the crazy girl who’d ran into the girls’ bathroom after punching the crap out of him.
Locking myself in a stall, I’d missed my next two classes that day. I’d almost expected to be called to the office in the afternoon for suspension. I could only guess the boy had no idea who I was or he’d laughed it off.
On the phone with Caleb, a part of me always burned to confide in him, tell him how messed up I really was. Instead, I constantly assured him everything was fine. The part of me that still wanted him to see me as I used to be always held me back from opening up. I was too embarrassed by my weaknesses to tell the truth. Soaking up his love in phone calls and letters was what I lived for nowadays. I couldn’t take the thought of losing his precious love.
But I was afraid of him turning away from me after he was released.
Did he think about what Josh did to me? Did it disgust him? Would he even want to touch me like he used to?
I imagined him getting out of juvie and realizing he didn’t want damaged goods with anxiety problems. In my worst moments, I pictured him deciding he didn’t love me anymore.
I studied the girls at school, the happy ones who kissed and held hands with their boyfriends. Was that what I’d looked like with Caleb, so carefree? Would Caleb want the kind of carefree girl I’d been? Didn’t he deserve that?
Right before Christmas break a guy on the basketball team asked me out. While he was waiting for a response, I’d just stared back at him in panicked silence. The appropriate response had been drumming in my head. All I’d had to do was tell him I had a boyfriend, but I couldn’t get the words out of my mouth.
Eventually, he’d given me an odd look deserving of the freak I was and walked away shaking his head. I’d missed the period after lunch that day and hid in the bathroom again. Every time I ditched a class, I had to tell the school psychologist so it could be excused.
The confessions were their own special humiliation and they always notified my dad.
When Caleb had casually mentioned one day over the phone that he wished we could talk during his phone time during the weekdays, I’d almost laughed. How could I tell him I missed class all the time? That the girls’ restrooms at school were becoming my own person panic rooms? I even had a favorite stall in each one. I might as well take a Sharpie to the metal walls and write Gianna was here...again.
Weekends breaking with the crew were actually somewhat calming. I slept over some Friday nights at Jared and Cece’s house and we went to ballet together Saturday morning. We usually ate at her family’s restaurant afterward for lunch. By the time we got back to her house in the afternoon, the rest of the crew waited in the garage for a session.
I knew there was no way they knew about what happened. Caleb had promised not to tell Dante or Taye. Other than me, my friends didn’t know anyone else from Broomfield. The paranoia about them finding out existed anyways.
At first, when the guys had to get up close to me during a routine, I’d start to feel panicky. Blaming it on my newly healed injuries, I’d tear myself away from whatever guy I danced with, trying to get myself under control. I’d fooled most of them, but Jared and Cece’s concerns had been harder to brush off.
Cece kept giving me probing looks. She questioned my supposed cheerleading accident and Caleb being locked up around the same time. I lied as I always did, feeling guilty for the necessary deceit, but preferring it over my best friend finding out about the attack.
Jared was even more intuitive than Cece. Maybe it was some sort of ingrained male instinct, the ability to sense a damaged female. The old Jared would have pounced on Caleb being in juvie. Instead, he treated me with nothing but consideration, in a purely brotherly way.
At seven-fifteen in the morning I went back downstairs. My dad, now dressed in a dress shirt, tie and slacks, stood drinking another cup of coffee in the kitchen. Having now had an adequate dose of caffeine, he appeared much more cheerful. “Hi, princess.”
How weird was it that Caleb and my dad called me the same nickname? I’d never told Caleb, because it might have freaked him out, but I’d secretly found it hilarious.
Plus, I liked it.
“Hey, I was just heading out.”
My dad checked the microwave clock. “Yeah, me too. My first appointment is in an hour.”
He’d been able to get an office downtown in a building filled with other cosmetic doctors. His practice opened for business last month. I’d always been in awe of my dad’s intelligence. Even with a wife and kid, he’d been able to get through medical school. He was thirty-three now and a handsome guy. I imagined he’d eventually remarry now that he’d settled into private practice.
“Got all your homework done?” he asked uncomfortably. It’d been years since he’d had to parent full time and the last was when I’d been in the third grade.
“If I said no?” I teased him.
For a moment he looked unsure, then his face melted in a smile. “Get to school, brat.”
Ten minutes later I parked my Jeep in a spot close to a side entrance of the main building. It was chilly this morning and I’d had the heater on full blast during the drive to school. Gray clouds painted the sky and my weather app said there’d be AM snow showers. I grabbed my thicker winter coat from the backseat and shrugged it on over the lightweight cropped jacket.
I’d arrived at school a half hour early and had time to kill. I wandered inside, passing in the hallway a few teachers and students, none of which I knew personally. The lounge area by the cafeteria had diner-style booths which weren’t very comfortable but provided a place to hang out when not in class or during lunch. The dimly lit area was decorated in the school colors of green and yellow gold.
Hefting my backpack onto a dark green laminate tabletop, I slid into the bench seat. I took out my used copy of The Scarlet Letter and began reading where I’d left off yesterday. We’d have a big test on the book in class next week and I hadn’t finished it yet.
The story was sucky and depressing. I wished we had a cooler English teacher who’d picked a better book for us to read. This was the same book kids my age had been forced to read for decades. Surely something less boring had been published in the last century.
The thud of another backpack hitting the table’s surface caused me to flinch and suck in a breath of alarm. I let it out and assessed the guy taking the seat across from me. He put his elbows on the table, templing his fingers in front of his lips. His pensive gesture and expression were unnerving.
“Um, yeah?” I curtly asked.
The three feet of table between us provided me with a limited sense of security. So did the pepper spray in the front pocket of my backpack. It was a definite violation of school rules, but I didn’t give a damn. If I ever needed to use it I’d deal with the consequences like a big girl.
A grin spread from behind his fingers. “I thought that was you. Saw you, but your hair is different. Looks good.”
My face must have expressed my confusion because he brought his hands down and leaned back. “You don’t remember me?”
Looking him over, he seemed familiar. His black hair was buzzed short and he had a small spacer in one ear. At his left wrist, a hint of tattoo peeked out from the sleeve of his thermal shirt. His features hinted at a mix of Caucasian and Asian ancestry.
I copied his casual position. “You’re from my old school.”
“You’re totally guessing, aren’t you?”
I nodded in answer.
He held out a hand. “I’m Kara’s brother, Gage.”
Since his hand was stretched out patiently, I cautiously placed my own in it, shaking once and pulling away. “I’m Gianna.”
There wasn’t much resemblance to Kara and I figured they were half-siblings. Kara and I had been friends for awhile when we were little, but I didn’t remember her brother.
&nb
sp; His hand disappeared with the other one under the table and he gave me a small smile. “Well, I don’t blame you for not remembering me. We never had any classes together since I’m a grade older and the last time we talked was when you came over to play with Kara in elementary school.”
At the mention of my old school, I wondered if he knew about what happened with Josh. Trying to feel him out, I asked, “So what are you doing here?”
A hint of blush stained his cheeks, giving me an unexpected feeling of relief. “Kinda sorta got expelled.”
I hadn’t been expecting that answer. “When?”
“Last week. This is my first day here. What about you?”
Maybe he hadn’t heard about the incident last fall. He definitely hadn’t been friends with the same crowd as me. “I transferred here last semester.”
“How do you like it?”
It had never been a question of like or dislike. The school was across the city from my old life, that was all that mattered. Shrugging, I finally said, “It’s alright.”
“So, why’d you switch schools, Gianna?” The question might have been nonchalant for him, but it always forced me to be dishonest.
“My dad bought a house in Englewood. It was easier to switch schools than make the trip up to Broomfield every day.”
I gauged his reaction, happy when he appeared accepting of my lie. “Are you a cheerleader at this school now?”
He probably remembered me wearing my uniform to school on game days. “No cheering for me anymore.”
“Who do you hang out with here?” He glanced over my shoulder then his dark brown eyes returned to me.
“I, um, don’t.” At his look of curious disbelief, I explained, “Most of my friends go to school in Denver and Aurora. I just get an education here.”
Looking thoughtful, Gage leaned forward. “Well, since you don’t have any friends and I don’t know anyone here, I’ll hang with you for now.”
I couldn’t help my burst of laughter. “Oh jeez, thanks.”
“No problem.”
Checking the time on my phone, I saw it was eleven minutes to first period. I slipped my book into my backpack and zipped it up. I’d need to stop by my locker to get rid of my bulky coat. “Time to get to class.”
Once out of the booth, without the barrier between us, I felt a little nervous. While I put my backpack on, he reached over to grab my coat, handing it to me. “Thank you.”
As I started to walk away, he called out, “Do you mind showing me to my first class?”
Whirling around, I reached up to hold onto the straps of my bag. “Yeah, sure. Which room number?”
Gage’s eyes dropped down to the paper in his hand. “Room 117.”
Feeling like this guy might be safe, I attempted to remain friendly. “Okay, come on.”
On the way to 117, I dropped off the coat at my locker. Gage told me his locker number and we swung by so he could locate it. He didn’t have textbooks yet, so he didn’t bother opening it. Walking to his class, he informed me that he was an aspiring DJ. He still struggled to make a name for himself, so he hadn’t gotten much work yet. When he graduated at the end of the school year, he’d concentrate on booking gigs full time.
We stopped outside his class. “So, meet you in the lounge at lunch?”
Shifting from one foot to the other, I hesitated. Not having friends at my new school had worked for me so far. I wasn’t sure I wanted a new guy friend. But he was Kara’s older brother, so it wasn’t like he was a total stranger. It wouldn’t hurt to have one friend at this school.
And it’d make me less of a freak.
“Okay,” I replied slowly. “I’ll meet you there.”
He flashed me a grin. “Later, then.”
I watched him approach the teacher inside the classroom as a girl sitting in the front row checked him out. He was cute now that I thought about it. Hot body like a swimmer. The way he walked reminded me a little of Caleb.
Hurrying to my own class on the second floor, the rubber soles of my boots squeaking on the shiny floor, I remembered Caleb’s request in his last letter. He wanted me to visit him next week on Valentine’s Day. I had mixed feelings on visiting my own boyfriend on the most romantic day of the year.
As much as I missed him, I couldn’t help being apprehensive at the prospect of facing him. I was scared he’d take one look at me and realize he didn’t want me anymore. I had no doubt Caleb cared for me, but would he still love me the same?
Hell, I didn’t even want me anymore.
CHAPTER FOUR
“A kiss that is never tasted, is forever and ever wasted.”
-Billie Holiday
VALENTINE’S DAY
CALEB
Showering this wonderful morning, I whistled under the warm spray, eager to get my day started. Valentine’s Day falling on a Saturday worked out perfectly for me.
I passed by Ian as I exited the bathroom. “Stop with your god damn happiness, Caleb.”
“Just ‘cause you don’t have a beautiful girl visiting you today.”
I wasn’t about to let him ruin my good mood. It’d been four months since I’d last seen Gianna. Today felt like my birthday, Christmas and Valentine’s Day all rolled into one.
Ian eyed the guard nearby before answering. “Actually, I do have a girl visiting me today.”
“Only approved family members are allowed to visit. Is she a cousin or something?”
His lazy smile was conspiratorial. “Nope.”
Now my interest was piqued. “Your do-gooder pen pal?”
The smile transformed into an intense scowl. “I would never let Alexandra come to this hellhole.”
Trying to keep a straight face, I asked, “Oh, it’s like that, is it?”
“No,” he snapped, turning his back to me.
“Move along,” a guard ordered when I began laughing tauntingly.
In our cell, I sat down on my bed and ran a palm over my buzzed hair. I wondered what Gianna would think of my shorter hair. Closing my eyes, I imagined the feeling of her hands last time they were in my hair. In my mind, her nails were painted red as delicate hands journeyed below my neck, stroking my chest. One hand dipped inside my pants as her lips met mine....
Aw, fuck, juvie was killing me.
I threw myself back onto the thin mattress, clenching my fists in an effort to control the porn show taking place in my mind.
Ian showed up, strutting into our cell as he ran a comb through his wet locks. My eyes rolled at his primping. He started rummaging through my stack of magazines. “Do you have any cologne samples?”
I jumped up, snatching the GQ magazine my mom brought me on her last visit and rifling through it until I found a Calvin Klein sample. As I rubbed some onto my skin, I gave Ian a victorious smirk.
Unfazed, he grabbed it from my fingers and did the same. “What the hell, man? I don’t want to smell like you!”
He went back to playing with his blond hair. “Don’t worry, Caleb. You’re too ugly to be my Valentine.”
“So, how do you plan on getting a chick in here if she isn’t family?”
His grin widened. “My lawyer got her on the approved list, said she was a second cousin.”
A terrible thought came to me. “Do I know her?”
His eyebrows rose along with an evil smile. “Do you mean, have you screwed her?”
I granted him a black look. “With Gianna finally coming I don’t want any surprises.”
Ian frowned, rolling his eyes. “Her name is Trisha...something.”
“Real helpful,” I muttered. Then again, even with a last name I couldn’t be sure.
I snagged the red gift bag from under the bed that my mom had brought my Christmas present in. I didn’t have the tissue anymore, but I carefully placed into it the painting I’d made for Gianna.
It was kind of cheesy, but I’d painted the memory of when we’d gone tagging. I’d included myself in the painting and it was a view of our backs as we stood
a few feet away from each other. Our arms were extended as we each gripped a can of paint, aiming at the wall in front of us. Black paint coated several of my fingers and bright blue paint dripped down Gianna’s index finger and over the top of her hand.
While sketching it, I’d thought it was kind of cool to paint a piece depicting the time we’d created art together. I’d even painted part of our handiwork that day.
Gianna’s delay in visiting already had me feeling uneasy, so I didn’t want to stress about whether she’d like my present. Half the time I was with the youth corrections therapist was spent discussing Gianna. Not having met her, my therapist could only guess at Gianna’s mental health. Dr. Adler explained how avoidance was normal behavior after an assault.
Patience was getting old.
Gripping the handles of the gift bag, I followed Ian out of our cell to line up for breakfast. From the cafeteria, anyone with visitors would be led to the visiting room and the rest would be taken outside to the basketball courts or gym.
I practically shoved the pancakes down my throat in my hurry to finish breakfast. A guard began calling out the names of inmates with visitors waiting. If Gianna didn’t show, I’d lose my shit. I could not go another day without seeing her face, breathing in her presence.
The last four months have been complete shit. I needed a strong dose of my girl to get me through the rest of my sentence.
GIANNA
I’d been afraid to walk inside the building. Gage had driven me to the youth corrections facility Caleb was locked up in and waited in his car outside. I was both elated and dreading seeing my boyfriend.
The pep talk Gage had given me before I’d come inside was a borderline scolding. I didn’t like to think of myself as weak, but hadn’t I proved it when I’d allowed Josh to hurt me? Hadn’t I proved it when I’d gotten my loving boyfriend imprisoned?
Gage had offered to accompany me inside, but only family was allowed to visit the inmates. As I waited for Caleb inside the large visitation room, I considered how fast my friendship with Gage had evolved. After that first day a week and a half ago, we’d hung out constantly. It was obvious Gage only wanted a platonic relationship and the safety in that was a relief. He’d even come to watch practice with the crew last Saturday.
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