Catherine led me to the bathroom, turning on tepid water and running it over the dirt and blood. She knelt down and then stood, holding a bottle of peroxide. “Ready?” I nodded, and she squirted the clear liquid onto my wounds. I sucked in a breath, watching as it turned light red and escaped down the drain. She bandaged my skin with what she had and then led me to the bed.
We sat down carefully, waiting after it squeaked to see if we’d woken anyone.
“Tell me,” Catherine said.
“Cruz Miller.”
“Oh,” she said, understanding in her eyes.
“I think he was there looking for a fight. Minka mouthed off, and he defended her when I told her to shut up.”
“About me?” she asked, her face crumbling. “This was about me.”
“It’s not your fault, Catherine,” I said with a frown. I knew she’d blame herself.
“You can’t even enjoy one party . . . on your birthday . . . because you get into a fight defending me.”
“I’d do it again.”
“You shouldn’t have to,” she said, standing. She paced back and forth, her long nightgown swaying between her legs. She stopped, looking at me, resolution on her face.
“Don’t say it. Don’t you dare say it to me right now,” I said. “I can deal with a lot of stuff being thrown at me, but not that.”
Her eyes glossed over. “I’m not good for you. It’s not fair what’s happening to you. You’re the star quarterback. Everyone would love you if it weren’t for me.”
“I only care about one person loving me.” I paused. “Catherine?” I rubbed the back of my neck. “You’re going to hear at school on Monday that I lost my shit. I kind of did. I don’t remember a lot of it. Cruz is pretty messed up.”
“What are you saying?”
“Everyone looked kind of scared of me when I left. Even Sam.”
She stared at me, not saying anything for several seconds. “You lost your temper? Like when you punch holes in doors?” I nodded. “I thought you didn’t do that anymore?”
I sighed. “I don’t know what happened. I snapped.”
She sat next to me, holding my hand, careful not to touch my knuckles. “It’s okay. It’s going to be okay.”
“Can I stay?” I asked.
She nodded, lying down on the bed. I lay next to her, and she hooked her arm over my middle, resting her cheek against my chest. The gray piece of fabric fell off the bed, landing quietly on the floor, but Catherine didn’t seem to notice. Instead, she hung on to me tight until her breathing evened out and her entire body relaxed.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Catherine
On Monday, after the final bell rang, I gathered my things and headed to my locker. Cruz wasn’t at school, and Minka wouldn’t even look at me in the few classes we had together. It was like an alternate universe. The week before, we couldn’t walk down the hall without someone trying to get Elliott’s attention. Now he got the same curious or disgusted expressions usually reserved for me.
Elliott was quiet on the way to the Juniper, but he kept his hand in mine, occasionally squeezing it, I assumed when he had a thought he didn’t want to say out loud.
“Thank you for the ride home,” I said to Elliott as I pushed the passenger door open against the wind. “You okay?”
“Don’t worry about me, I’m fine. I’ll be back right after practice.”
I closed the door, and he held up his hand, his index and pinky pointing up, his thumb extended. I did the same before turning to walk toward the Juniper.
My hair blew against my face, helping to keep the cold from blasting my cheeks, but it wasn’t just the blast of freezing wind rushing my steps to the door. Elliott wouldn’t leave until I was inside, and he couldn’t be late for practice.
“Catherine?” Mama called as I crossed the threshold.
“I’m home,” I said, peeling off layers and hanging my coat, scarf, and knit cap on the hooks by the door.
The log for the day was empty, so I trudged into the kitchen and heaved my backpack onto the counter, unzipping it and pulling out five textbooks. It had been three days since Elliott’s run-in with Duke, and I was still worrying about it, making it difficult to concentrate in class. I hadn’t finished any of my assignments and hadn’t caught most of the notes. Staring at the stack of books made me feel tired.
“My brother dated a girl once that my mom didn’t like. Didn’t last very long.” Tess placed a mug of hot chocolate in front of me, sipping her own.
“Who says Mama doesn’t like Elliott? Did she tell you that?”
Tess shrugged. “She said Duke freaked out in front of Elliott. She feels bad, but maybe it’s for the best.”
I sighed. “Thank you for the drink, but not today, Tess.”
“Not today? You’ve got to end this now. You’re going to break his heart. You know you’re not going with him, and he’s not staying here.”
“I don’t know,” I snapped. I let out a breath, trying to rein in my temper.
“It’s not your fault,” Tess said. “It’s normal to want to belong, so it makes sense that you’d want both—Elliott and the Juniper.”
“Who says I want both?” I asked. “The Juniper is a necessary evil, not a want. Elliott is a want, and I was doing just fine until Duke nearly ruined everything. I can still do this. I’ll figure something out. I always do.”
“It sucks, but you know what you have here is too important, and you’re screwing it up.”
I closed my eyes. “I don’t know anything. Neither do you.”
“I know what you’re thinking, but you’re wrong. You can’t have both. Eventually, you’re going to have to choose.”
“I can have both as long as he’s here. When he leaves, I’ll . . . I’ll let him go, but for now, just let me enjoy it. For once, just let me be happy.”
“He makes you happy?”
“You know he does.”
“So you did choose.”
“It’s not much of a choice, Tess. Please. I have a lot on my plate right now. Just . . . go home.”
“The choice is to be loyal to your mama or run off with a boy who’s going to leave. To anyone else, it would be a clear choice. I can’t believe you.” I sighed and stood, but Tess grabbed my arm. “I came by Friday night. You weren’t here. Mavis said you went to his game. You’ve been taking off work an awful lot.”
I pulled away. “I’m allowed to take off once in a while. I’ve worked seven days a week for two years, Tess.”
“I guess. So . . . how was it? The game? Did you have fun?”
“Not as much as I’d hoped.”
Tess looked at me, her eyes narrowing. “The game? Why not?”
The wind outside rattled the windows, the draft making the curtains sway gently.
When I didn’t answer, Tess came to her own conclusion. “Was he mean to you?”
“Elliott? No, he would rather cut off his arm than upset me. He won’t even go to parties without me. He stood up to his coach for me. He loves me, Tess. Sometimes I think he loves me more than anything.”
Her cheeks flushed red. “What did the coach do?”
“Nothing,” I said with a sigh. “He didn’t do anything. It’s complicated.”
She narrowed her eyes. “Those girls. The ones who give you a hard time. Did they bother you? It was Presley again, wasn’t it? Is that what Althea was talking about? I heard her telling your mama they were bothering you. Mavis said they came by before.” With each sentence, Tess became more upset.
“Tatum likes Elliott, so Presley is being more hateful than usual, that’s all.”
“Well, at least when you dump him, they’ll leave you alone.”
“I’m not dumping him . . . and not likely.”
“You don’t think they’ll leave you alone?” Tess asked.
I shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know why they would. They’ve been bothering me for years, and they enjoy it. Presley especially. They bashed out the head
lights of Madison’s car, trying to strand us in Yukon.” Tess frowned while she took another sip of her hot chocolate. “But it’s okay. They’ll all be leaving for college in a few months.”
“That reminds me,” Tess said, sliding a stack of letters toward me. “Althea said to make sure you saw these.”
I thumbed through them. They were all from different colleges in different states. There was a 99.99 percent chance I couldn’t afford any of them. Some envelopes were just surveys. Others were brochures from the schools. The campuses were all beautiful, shot in the summer, when they were covered in plush green grass and sunshine. My heart sank. Those places were so far out of my reach, they might as well have been on the moon.
I wondered if Elliott would be recruited by scouts during playoffs, which college he would end up choosing, and how far away he would go, if he would be one of the college freshmen gathered together on one of those lawns, and which girl would be cheering for him in the stands. My eyes filled with tears, and I pushed them away.
“The quicker you cut him loose, the easier it will be on you both.”
I looked over at Tess. “You have to go. I have a lot of homework, and then I have chores.”
Tess nodded and slid off the stool to leave.
I opened my geometry textbook, pulling out the folded notebook paper still inside. I had only finished half the assignment in class, my mind swirling with how much longer I could ignore that Elliott was leaving. I’d let him get too close, and I’d put him in danger. Now he was a pariah at school. When it was time, I’d have to let him go.
Page after page, problem after problem, I finished each assignment as the sun set and night set in. The Juniper grew noisier at night. The walls creaked, water whooshed through the pipes, and the refrigerator hummed. In winter, the wind would blow so hard at times the front door would struggle to stay closed.
The refrigerator clicked off, and the humming stopped. For once, it was too quiet. The back door opened and then closed, and footsteps seemed to walk in circles.
“Mama?” I called. She didn’t answer. “The heater isn’t working quite right. Want me to call someone?”
Duke came around the corner, sweaty and huffing, his tie loose and hanging askew. I tensed, waiting for an outburst.
“Duke. I . . . didn’t realize anyone was here. I’m sorry, what can I do for you?”
“I’ll take care of the heater. You stay out of the basement from now on. I hear you have a bad habit of getting locked down there.”
“Like you didn’t know?” I asked.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” he snarled.
“Nothing,” I grumbled, putting my finished homework away. He was referring to the time I was stuck down there for three hours. I’d gone down to check the water heater, and someone shut the door on me. I had a suspicion it was Duke, but when Mama finally answered my calls for help, she said Duke hadn’t checked in.
The basement door slammed, and Duke’s heavy boots stomped down the rickety steps, stopping only when he reached the bottom. He was moving things around, making a racket. I was glad I’d finished my homework. The banging and screeching of chair legs being pulled across concrete would have made concentration impossible.
I readied my backpack for the next day, placed it by the door, then climbed the stairs, exhaustion building with each step. My heavy feet caught on the matted, dirty carpet, forcing me to hold on to the grungy wooden railing to keep myself from tripping. The house had aged twenty years in the two years since Dad had been gone. I only knew how to do upkeep like light the pilot light and check for leaks in the plumbing. The paint was peeling, the pipes were leaking, the lamps would blink, and the house was drafty. Mama wouldn’t let me do even small updates. She didn’t want anything to change, so we just let it rot.
Once in my room, I peeled off my clothes, listening to the pipes rattle and whistle before the water sprayed through the showerhead.
Freshly scrubbed and shampooed, I stood in my robe in front of the mirror, wiping away the hundreds of tiny water droplets with my palm. The girl in the mirror was different than the one who’d stood in front of the mirror with Elliott just a few days before. The dark circles had returned, and my eyes were sad and tired. Even knowing how it would end, I still looked forward to seeing him at school every day. It was the only thing I looked forward to, and I was going to let him go for reasons I didn’t completely understand.
My comb slid through my wet hair. I wondered what my dad would think about how long my hair had grown, if he’d have approved of Elliott, and how different my life would be if Dad had lived. The music box on my dresser began to play one chime at a time, and I walked into my bedroom, gazing at the pink cube. It was closed and I hadn’t wound it in days, but since the day after Dad’s funeral, I’d pretended the misfiring of the pin drum that created the slow, haunting tune was Dad’s way of talking to me.
I carried the music box to my window, winding the tiny gold crank and then opening the lid, watching my misshapen ballerina twirl to the comforting tune.
I sat on the small bench seat beneath the window, already feeling the cold air seeping through the cracks. The Fentons’ maple tree on the far side of their lot was obscuring a full view of the night sky, but I could still see hundreds of twinkling stars between the branches.
The streetlamps had been neglected and were slowly going out one at a time, but the millions of stars above would always be there: mysterious, silent witnesses, just like the guests of the Juniper.
A handful of gravel rocks bounced off the glass, and I looked two stories down to see Elliott standing in the dark.
I pushed up the window with a smile, winter breathing in my face. “I didn’t think you were coming.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because practice has been over for hours?”
He looked ashamed. “Sorry, I got tied up. I thought . . . I think I should come up again,” he called up as quietly as he could. “That I should stay.”
“Elliott . . . ,” I sighed. One night was a risk. Two was making a decision.
Icy wind blew Elliott’s hair forward. After just one night of having him in my room, I was desperate to be surrounded by that hair, his arms, and the safety I felt just being close to him. Another gust blew in through the window, and I wrapped my robe tighter around me. “It’s freezing. You should go home.”
“Just a second,” he said, backing up a few steps before taking a running start and climbing and jumping up to the roof beneath my window.
I stopped him before he climbed in, pressing my hand against his shoulder. “We’re going to get caught.”
“That’s why I’m here, right? In case someone comes into your room without permission?”
“I don’t want you to be here if that happens, Elliott. It will make it even harder to explain.”
“You don’t have to explain anything to me.”
“This is a mess,” I said with a sigh. “My life is a mess.”
“Well, now your mess is my mess.”
I touched his cheek, and he leaned against it, creating a twinge in my chest. “I know you’re just trying to help, but if I cared about you at all, I wouldn’t let you get involved. Maybe”—my stomach felt sick before I even said the words—“Elliott, I think it’s time we . . . we should break up. You’re leaving anyway, and I want to keep you far away from all this.”
He frowned. “Damn it, Catherine, don’t say that. Don’t ever say that. You’re coming with me, remember? And besides, I do the protecting around here.”
“I thought I was the warrior?”
“How about you take a break for a while?”
I heaved out a frustrated sigh. “Elliott, you have no idea what you’re saying. You don’t even know what you’re dealing with.”
“Is this about the fight?” he asked.
“No.”
“Okay. Okay, then maybe,” he began, choosing his words carefully. I could tell he was angry that I’d even sa
id the words break up, just as agitated as the first time we went to lunch with Sam and Madison. “Okay, all right? I get it. If no one is hurting you, I won’t say anything. I’m just worried about you. Not knowing what’s going on is making it worse.”
The wind blew, and I hugged my middle.
“All right, this is ridiculous,” he said, climbing in.
Elliott closed the window and walked across the room, sitting on my bed. It creaked under his weight. He gazed at me, patting the space next to him with a sweet smile.
I glanced at the door, trying to keep my voice down. “I appreciate that you worry about me, but as you can see, I’m fine. Now please . . .”
Muffled voices filtered down the hall, and we froze. I recognized Duke and Mama, and then Willow, but Elliott frowned, seeming confused. “Is that . . . ?”
I covered my eyes with my hands, feeling hot tears threaten to fall. “Elliott, you have to leave.”
“Sorry. I won’t talk in question marks.”
“I’m serious. This is serious. I’m trying to protect you.”
“From what?”
I pointed to the door. “None of them were here earlier, and now they are. There has to be a reason. They’re up to something. You have to go. It’s not safe here.”
He stood up, holding his hand out to me. “Then you shouldn’t be here, either. C’mon.”
I held my palm to my chest. “I don’t have a choice!”
Elliott held his finger to his lips and then stood, pulling me into a warm, tight hug. I wanted to stay cocooned there forever.
“I’m giving you at least one,” Elliott said quietly against my hair. He wasn’t afraid, and I couldn’t show him how dangerous it was without putting him and the Juniper in jeopardy. “What about Mrs. Mason? Can’t you talk to her?”
I shook my head, pressing my cheek against his chest. It was hard to argue when I wanted nothing more than for him to be in my room.
“We’ll figure something out. But no more talk about breaking up or me leaving you here alone. Look at me. Do I look like I need you to save me?” He tried a grin, but it quickly faded when he saw the sadness in my eyes.
All the Little Lights Page 24