“Now you sit,” I said to Thanet. “You’re bleeding.” A small river of blood snaked down his face and stained his t-shirt. I used an alcohol swab to clean the cut and then I bandaged it.
“How’d you get this, Thanet?”
He sighed. “Long story or short?”
“Your choice.”
“I found out it was Grayson, you know, who spread the word about your family. I heard him laughing about it earlier so I followed him in here to…I don’t know what I planned to do about it, actually.”
“But you were mad. All revved up on righteous indignation.”
He frowned. “Of course I was mad.”
“And…,” I prompted.
“And they think it’s funny when I lose my balance, Meg. Welcome to my life. I hit my head on the corner of the bench because Shawn kicked my feet out from under me.” He’d been avoiding my eyes but he turned to look at me then. “And you’re crying. Meg, why are you crying?”
“That happened to you because of me,” I said. “I hate this. Do you know how much I hate this?”
Thanet swallowed hard. “I know how much you hate this. I’m—”
“No, don’t say you’re sorry. I just love you like crazy and I don’t want you hurt because…”
Someone knocked on the door behind me and then it opened. “Meg?” Henry said, “You in here?”
“She’s here,” Thanet said.
I rocked back on my heels and pressed my hands to my cheeks, trying to hide the cuts, but hissing from the stinging pain. Henry stepped around the broken glass and bloody towels, reaching down for me. “What happened?” he said, taking my hands from my face to get a better look. “What in the world?”
Thanet was at the sink, washing his face and staring at himself in the mirror. “Henry, I’m sorry,” he said. “It was my fault and it was a disaster. Give me a ride to the bookstore and I’ll tell you everything.”
The evidence lay all around me. Some of the glass pieces on the floor were smeared with my blood and they looked like the beginnings of stained glass.
“Let’s get out of here,” I said. “I’ll just pick this up and then we can go.”
Henry shook his head at me and said, “I’ll get it.” He spun off a thick wad of paper towels and picked up every piece he could find. Then he used wet towels to wipe off the floor and the bench where Thanet had been. Finally he found an empty box, ripped a side off and forced it into the window frame.
I found a pen and wrote, “Broken,” on the cardboard.
THIRTY-TWO
When Henry took my hand, he was shaking. We turned down the hallway and walked straight out the door to Henry’s truck. I climbed in the middle and Thanet heaved himself in after me. Henry started the car and blasted the heater to warm the cab. Nobody said a word for several long minutes.
“It was Grayson,” Thanet said. “He’s the one that found out about Meg and put it all out there.”
“I knew that already,” Henry said.
Thanet leaned around me to look at Henry. “Then why in Hades didn’t you pound him?”
Henry’s hands flexed on the wheel. “Grayson told everyone Meg’s brother died in a violent school crime, so I should violently rip him a new hole in a school?”
“I didn’t think of that,” Thanet said.
“Was Grayson in the locker room?” Henry said.
“I followed him in there after I heard him laughing in the hall about Meg,” Thanet said. “I screwed up and cracked my skull on a bench. Then the door opens and Meg comes walking in, all protection detail.”
Thanet looked at me sideways and smirked. “Of all the inquisitive hobbits, you are the worst.”
I shuddered against Henry and he wrapped his right arm around me. “Why’d you do that?” He took his eyes off the road to glance at my face. “You should’ve waited for me.”
“I heard a crash and then Thanet’s voice sounded strange,” I said. “It scared me.”
“Tell me how the window broke and why you’re all cut up, Meg.” I could tell Henry’s patience was wearing thin.
“I let Grayson get to me,” I said. “I went off on him. I tripped and hit the window.”
“You didn’t ‘go off on him,’ Meg,” Thanet said. “You had a completely warranted reaction. You did nothing wrong.”
“So Thanet fell and you tripped,” Henry said, scowling. He looked over my head at Thanet. “Did Grayson push her?”
“No,” Thanet said. “But he sure didn’t catch her, either.”
Henry’s hand tightened on my arm. “Are you okay?”
“I’ll heal.”
Thanet chuckled. “You’re hardheaded, Meg, but it’s adorable and endearing.”
As Henry parked next to the curb in front of the bookstore, the three of us watched for signs of Annie through the window. “Should I go in with you?” Henry said.
“No, she’s used to me coming home banged up from falls.” Thanet reached down for his backpack and when he sat up, he looked at me and smiled a tiny smile. “Thanks,” he whispered. “I pledge my eternal fealty to you, Lady Meg. And…I love you like crazy, too.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
Thanet looked worn out as he slid out of the truck and bumped the door closed with his back. He had a new limp, but maybe that’s the effect fatigue has on his gait. We watched him through the bookstore window. He walked to the counter, hugged his mom and leaned against the wall to talk to her. She zeroed in on his bandaged forehead immediately, shifting closer to get a better look.
“He’ll be all right,” Henry said, answering the question I hadn’t voiced. “It’s you I’m worried about.”
“I’m so tired,” I said. “Maybe you should drop me off at my Jeep and we’ll talk another day.”
“I could do that,” he said. “But I’m not going to because I don’t want you to put any more time or distance between us.” He put the truck in reverse and backed out onto Main. Swinging into the left lane, he turned toward my house instead of the school.
I began to shake again. The muscles in my legs contracted so hard that I could see knots moving under my jeans. Everything in my life was overwhelmingly sad and now even my friends were suffering for it. I leaned over and studied downtown through the passenger window.
The town looked different.
At my house, Henry parked next to the front porch but left the truck running. He slid my cell phone out of my hand and said, “You should call your dad and tell him what happened.”
“What? No.” I shook my head, ready to give a million reasons why that was a bad idea.
“After what he’s been through, he deserves to know. Call him.”
I scrolled through names until Dad’s appeared and I touched it. As it rang, Henry whispered, “Tell him you’re with me this evening and I’ll bring you home before your curfew.”
“I don’t have a curfew,” I whispered.
He gave me a sad smile. “Then it shouldn’t be a problem.”
Dad answered and I almost lost my nerve, but Henry took my hand.
I spilled it all within a couple of minutes. I told Dad how the whole school was talking about Wyatt and how it had hurt my feelings. I told him Thanet tried to defend me and got hurt. And I told him about the window and the stinging scratches on my cheeks and forehead. I told him they would heal.
I wasn’t surprised when he talked about calling Ms. Ewing and pressing charges against Grayson. It had no effect on me when his voice shook as he asked if I wanted to go back to my old school. I don’t know that I’d ever felt so numb. I think a girl can only live so many nightmares before she shuts down.
“I don’t want to press any charges and I don’t want to get Ms. Ewing upset,” I said.
Dad sniffed and made lots of noises that sounded like hoo and ahh and also words I wasn’t allowed to say. “That is a monumentally bad idea, Meg. Letting something go when it could escalate. We know where that road leads.”
“This isn’t like that,�
�� I said. “This road leads nowhere…it just sort of disappears over the horizon. You have to trust me.”
Trust was a hot button word for Dad. My family was huge on trust—earning it, losing it, giving it. Dad’s trust lectures were kind of famous among my friends in Pittsburgh. Through the phone connection, I felt Dad getting himself together in the name of Trust.
“Of course I trust you, Meg,” he said. “We’ll deal with it your way. But if one more incident happens, we’ll deal with it my way.”
I ended the call by telling Dad I was with Henry and would be home late. He didn’t care. He’d returned to his workaholic ways. It was how he coped. I’d be alone now more than ever.
“Will you do something for me?” Henry said.
“I thought I just did.” In fact, he’d been a little bossy since he found us in the locker room.
“One more thing. Put on a bathing suit.”
“Ha ha,” I said. “’Cause we have such beautiful weather for a swim.”
He turned off the truck and took the keys from the ignition. “No, I’m serious. I want to take you somewhere and swimsuits are required. Just put one on with really warm sweats over it. And grab a couple of towels.”
“So…do you need to borrow a suit?” I said. “I’ve got a one piece that might work.”
He laughed. “I have a pair of shorts in the truck I can use.”
He climbed out of the truck and started digging around behind the seat, shoving oily rags and tools aside. Finally he fished out a wadded up pair of shorts and some sweats. They both looked moderately clean but horribly wrinkled. He slung them over his shoulder and headed toward my front door.
I followed, stepping around him to unlock the door. “You can change in my parents’ room,” I said. “Give me a minute?”
“Take your time,” he said.
In my room, I went through a box of summer clothes that I hadn’t needed here, finally finding the only bathing suit that fit—a bikini. Darn. It was late November and beginning to snow—where in the world would we go that required a bathing suit? I grabbed ratty Canning Mills sweats and the suit, then locked myself in the bathroom.
I examined my face in a mirror and tried not to cry again because salty tears would be excruciating. The glass had left behind what looked like tiny paper cuts on my cheekbones and forehead, one barely missing my right eye. I did the best I could to camouflage them, and then gave up. I shimmied on the bathing suit and sweats and took two beach towels from the top shelf of the cabinet.
I practiced the words I’d need to say soon. “Grayson said you haven’t told me about your Thanksgiving,” I whispered. “Is there something you need to tell me about Colorado? Are blondes really more fun?” Nothing sounded right.
Henry smiled when I opened the bathroom door. “Cute.” He pointed at my old sweats.
I locked up and followed him to the truck, climbing in the driver’s door and scooting over to the passenger seat. We drove through town and then east, further and further from civilization, into rocky hills. He parked the truck on the side of the road, next to a trailhead. Even in the fading late afternoon light, the forest looked impossibly dark.
He leaned over me and grabbed a flashlight from his glove box. “We’ll need this,” he said. “It’s just a short walk. Follow me and stay close.”
We hiked up the trail toward a cave where a small sign said, “Muh Cave.” It looked like the perfect home for a grizzly bear, so I hesitated.
“Are we supposed to go in there?”
“Not officially, but don’t worry.”
He took my hand and led me through the narrow opening and into the darkness, turned on his flashlight and put his hand over the top of my head so I wouldn’t bump it on the low rock ceiling.
“Listen,” he said.
I stopped walking and heard the soft gurgling of water—it sounded a little like pasta boiling.
“Hot springs,” he said. “They’re all around Chapin, but this one’s my favorite because it warms this whole cave.”
I couldn’t believe it. He’d brought me to the springs. Probably the one from the Indian story he’d told me. The place where healing was guaranteed, right?
Steam rose around us in thick, warm waves. It felt so good when it touched my skin that I shuddered. Henry led me around some large boulders until we were standing in a larger part of the cave with an opening in the ground, an opening full of gently bubbling water. I had no idea places like this existed.
Henry leaned against a rock and pulled me close. “Thanet texted me while you were changing and told me what Grayson said.” He tilted my chin up. “You have to know I would never lie to you.”
I bit my lip to keep from crying. “Then tell me what he meant.”
He took the towels from me and spread them out on a flat boulder. “Sit.”
I sat with my legs curled under me and he knelt in front of me. He tugged my feet toward him, untying one running shoe and easing it off.
As he untied my other shoe, he said, “Brooke was in Boulder.”
I jerked my foot away, tied my shoe back and reached for my other shoe. I couldn’t have this conversation. I wouldn’t let him ease me into a breakup when we were supposed to be here so I could tell him my secrets. “I need to go home. Can you just take me home?”
“Let me finish, please.” He held my other shoe behind his back so I couldn’t reach it. “Just let me talk, Meg.”
I rested my head on my knees, closed my eyes and focused on breathing. In slowly, out slowly. In slowly, out slowly. When Henry remained quiet, I peeked at him and found him watching me, chewing on his lip. I touched his lip so he wouldn’t make it bleed.
“Remember I told you that her brother is one of my best friends?” Henry spoke calmly but his eyes looked a little wild. “That we’d worked together every summer?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“Well, he—Collin—he’s a freshman at CU. We sat together at the game and hung out afterwards. Brooke was with him.”
“So you and Brooke spent the day together,” I said. “While I was dropping my mom off at a recovery center—”
“What?” He sounded anguished. He inched closer and reached for my hands again. “I didn’t know that. I’m so sorry you’re going through this with her. This thing with Brooke is nothing, Meg.” His voice cracked when he said my name.
“How did Grayson know?”
“I told you he liked Brooke. He texted her and she told him where we were. She sent him a picture of us at the game.” He scooted me over and sat on the edge of the towel.
“I’ll show you the picture.” He took out his phone and found a picture of him, sitting comfortably in a stadium seat, next to a blonde. My throat caught when I saw his face in the photo—he looked happy. She looked smug as she leaned in close to him and used her phone to capture the moment. Their bodies seemed comfortable and familiar. They’d known each other most of their lives; they had unfinished business.
I pushed the phone away. “She likes you.”
He shook his head, but didn’t deny it. “I tried calling you but your phone was off. When you finally called me, we had more important things to talk about—like your brother.”
I stood up, cracking my head on the rock above us. “This is so stupid!” I took a deep breath and rubbed the sore spot on my head. “It’s making me feel like an eighth grader with a crush. I hate it!”
“What exactly do you hate?”
“That you have to explain something like this because some Neanderthal held it over your head.” I glanced at him and narrowed my eyes. “That Brooke still wants to pull your strings.”
I could’ve gone on and on, but only the truth mattered.
“My brother died because someone was jealous.”
THIRTY-THREE
Henry closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He stood, peeled off his shirt, and toed off the tennis shoes I didn’t know he owned. Finally, he took off his sweat pants. He stood, shivering a little, in
shorts and held his hand out to me.
I’d never seen him bare-chested. For the first time, he seemed vulnerable to me. His smooth, tight skin wrapped around the long muscles he’d developed over a lifetime of hard work.
I swallowed hard and then copied him, taking off my sweats. When I finished dragging my sweatshirt over my head, Henry sucked in a breath and stepped close. I felt my face heat up because I assumed he was reacting to my near nudity. But his eyes were focused on my shoulder and his hand came up to gently touch me there.
“Did this happen today?”
I’d forgotten about the rising bruise from hitting the wall. I shook my head, but whispered, “Yes.”
Seeing Henry try to restrain himself was something. He swallowed hard. “I’m…I’m really sorry. I’ll talk to Grayson.”
I licked my dry lips. “No, it’s okay.” I took his hand and let him lead me to the hot spring. He eased in first, hissing from the heat of the water, then he reached for me. The water was deeper than I’d imagined.
He found a shallow spot and sat, settling me onto his lap, holding my back to his chest. I couldn’t stop shaking and it had nothing to do with the water or with being half-dressed in a cave with a boy.
“Nothing else matters,” Henry said in my ear. “I’m here. Start at the beginning.”
“Are you sure? Because there aren’t any pretty parts to this. It’s all horrible.”
“I’m sure.” His hand splayed out over my stomach, pressing gently.
“Wyatt loved a girl named Hannah,” I said. “I mean he really loved her. But it was from a distance, you know?”
Henry nodded his head against my cheek.
“Hannah had dated Matthew for a long time—a couple of years. She broke up with him a lot, but they always got back together.”
“Yeah,” Henry murmured. “I know couples like that here.”
“Wyatt didn’t really go out with anyone else because he just hoped she’d break up with Matthew one day for good.”
Glass Girl (A Young Adult Novel) Page 18