by Pam Fluttert
“Don’t think about the cold, and you won’t feel it,” Steph says.
We continue the walk in silence; the only sound being the crunch of leaves under our feet. The musty smell of rotting fish and stale water grows stronger.
As we cross the bridge, Steph points to a group of people down by the dam. “There they are.” She breaks into a jog, leaving the sidewalk and heading down the path.
“Steph, wait up,” I yell, trying to jog in the heels.
My foot turns on a stone, knocking me off balance. I sprawl face first into the mud. A pain shoots through my knee. The earthy, damp smell of dirt and wet leaves fills my nostrils, making me sneeze. I blush when Mike’s friends laugh from their perch on the dam.
Steph’s feet appear in front of my face. “Are you okay?”
She helps me up. Brushing dirt off my hands, I glance down to assess the damage. My skin is red and scraped around my knee.
“I think I’ll just go home.” Why should I change who I am, anyway?
“No, come with me. Face them and laugh with them and it’ll be fine. Please come.” Steph leads me back down the path. I follow, my body tight and my face burning with embarrassment.
“Hey, walk much?” a red-haired guy leaning against the cement wall of the dam yells.
“Ignore him. That’s Tim. He thinks he’s a real comedian, but nobody laughs at his jokes.” Steph glances back at me with a reassuring smile.
“It seems like they’re all laughing this time.” I feel stupid and out of place.
“Hey everyone, this is Kat.” Steph introduces me to the group when we join them at the ledge.
“Hey Kat, nice legs,” a blond guy with a cigarette hanging from his mouth says.
“Her legs?” a guy with dark curls asks. “What about her ass? It looked pretty good sprawled in the dirt.”
Mortified, I stare at the ground and realize that this stupid excuse for a skirt probably did ride up when I fell, exposing my butt for the world to see.
“Lay off, guys,” Mike’s deep voice commands. “Come here, Baby.” I look up to see Steph being pulled toward Mike, like a rag doll. He gives her a kiss, running his hand over her rear.
“Come on you guys, get a room,” a girl standing off to the side says, making faces at Steph and Mike. I didn’t notice her when we first joined the group. Is that a joint hanging from her mouth? She glances my way, smiling slyly. “You want a drag?” She holds the joint toward me.
The last remnants of laughter fade while they all watch, waiting to hear what I’ll say.
“I don’t…”
“Come on guys, leave her alone. You’ll scare her away.” Mike snickers with a few of the other guys.
Steph punches Mike’s arm. “Lay off.”
Mike narrows his eyes at Steph. I back away from the girl who is still holding the joint toward me.
“Oh, that’s okay. Not right now,” I stammer. Why did I let Steph convince me to come?
Steph’s eyes widen and she opens her mouth, pointing at something behind me. “Watch…”
I back up and trip over Tim’s foot. For the second time within two minutes, I hit the dirt. This time I land on my rear, the impact jarring me enough that I bite my tongue. The salty taste of blood fills my mouth.
“Look guys, she’s falling for me,” Tim says to a chorus of laughter.
I turn to Steph with pleading eyes, hoping she’ll help me out of this situation before I make an even bigger fool of myself.
Steph pulls away from Mike to come to my aid, but his hand snakes out behind her to grab the back of her jacket. I can’t believe she likes to hang out with these jerks. Obviously preserving her image with them means more to her than our friendship.
“Hey, Princess, let me give you a hand.” Tim reaches out to me.
“Forget it.” I slap his hand away. “I’d rather be touched by a snake than let you take my hand.”
“Ooohhhh! The princess has claws.” Tim backs away, pretending to be scared. Everybody chuckles, except Steph. She stares blankly, with Mike holding her in place like a master controlling his puppet.
I get up and brush the dirt off my behind. I look at each one of them, hating myself for letting them intimidate me, until my gaze stops on Steph. I’ve lost her to these idiots, who don’t deserve her. Anger lends me the confidence I need to walk away with some pride.
“Call me if you ever get sick of these jerks.” Their taunts follow me, but I stick my nose in the air and stride away. If Steph would rather be with these brain-dead idiots, that’s her choice.
“Isn’t she high and mighty?” a voice yells from behind me. I ignore it and keep going. Every step feels like I’m dragging a cement brick with me.
“Kat!” Steph cries out. I pause for a moment, struggling to keep myself from turning around. She’s my best friend, but she chose Mike. I keep walking and don’t look back. Her choice is obvious and so is mine.
Chapter Fifteen
The next morning, Sarah stomps into the kitchen, destroying my solitude. I look up from my bowl of cereal, ready to clear the air between us. There’s an empty place inside me after leaving Steph at the dam. I have no energy for another confrontation.
“Hey, you still mad at me?”
Sarah shrugs, flops on the chair and sticks her bottom lip out in a pout. I fight the temptation to snap at her for acting like a spoiled brat.
“Oh, come on – I was only trying to talk to you. You didn’t have to take off like that.”
“You treat me like a baby. I’m not a baby!”
“You don’t have to yell.” I hold my breath, waiting to see if Mom or Dad come running. “I don’t treat you like a baby, but you sure act like one sometimes.” I ignore Sarah when she sticks her tongue out. “I don’t know why I even bother. I was only trying to tell you not to be so affectionate now that you’re getting older.”
“But it’s Uncle Greg. Why can’t I hug Uncle Greg?”
I stare into my bowl of cereal. “You just shouldn’t. It’s not right to do that as you get older – you aren’t a baby anymore. You’re just too big to be hugging him.” How do you explain something like this to a kid like Sarah?
“Why? People always hug and kiss on TV.”
“Good morning, girls.” Mom walks into the kitchen with her briefcase.
“Mommy,” Sarah says, casting a haughty look my way, “why can’t I hug Uncle Greg anymore?”
“What?” Mom looks back and forth between us.
“Why can’t I hug Daddy, Uncle Greg, and Jared?” Sarah’s bottom lip sticks out even farther than before.
“Oh, not this again. Of course you can hug them.” Mom raises her eyebrows at me. “They’re family, and you can hug them whenever you want.”
“Greg’s not family!” My spoon bounces off the table and clatters to the floor.
“He’s family to us,” my mother says firmly.
My chair falls to the floor as I push it back from the table. “He’s not family. He’s Dad’s friend. Being Dad’s friend doesn’t mean he’s family, and it doesn’t mean he should be here all the time, or that he’s—”
“What is wrong with you, Katrine?” Mom’s face is shocked at my outburst. “Amy and Greg are welcome here any time. You always love seeing them. They’ve done—”
“Oh, forget it! I can’t talk to any of you!” I stomp through the kitchen and out the front door with Sarah’s smirk and Mom’s shock following me like a dark shadow. Why can’t they see what Greg is like?
A rusty, blue Mustang pulls into Scott and Steph’s driveway across the road. Steph bursts through the front door in blue jeans that seem to be painted on. She climbs into the car without even looking in my direction. Tim hangs out the window and waves at me, a mocking grin on his face. I immediately raise my finger to
him and then feel stupid for lowering myself to his level. I kick the curb in frustration then hop around in pain. Once again, I look like an idiot in front of Steph and her new friends. What a great start to the day.
Scott comes out of his front door and meets me at the end of my driveway, raising an eyebrow as I limp in a circle.
“Hey,” Scott greets me, “looks like you’re having a great day so far.” I glare at him. “I figured you would go with Steph. Mom told me she was over here yesterday.”
“We were on the mend…”
“Uh-oh. Dare I ask?”
“No, you dare not. Let’s just say I don’t like her new group of friends and leave it at that.”
“Wow, you’re touchy today. I don’t disagree, though.” Scott shakes his head and stares after Mike’s Mustang. “They’re bad news, but you can’t tell her anything. Steph has a mind of her own.”
“I can’t believe she’s so blind. Can’t you talk to her?”
“I’ve tried, but we’ve argued every time.”
I sigh and sit down beside Scott on the brick ledge at the bottom of our driveway.
“I haven’t seen you much lately.”
Scott shrugs. “I’ve been busy.” He looks down the street to see if our bus is coming. “Are you working after school?”
“I don’t know. Aunt Sheila is going to call. I have to wait and see what’s happening with a patient.”
“That sounds serious.”
“Yeah, it is. It’s actually really sad.” I stare at the road, picturing Taylor’s tears and frightened eyes.
“A sick kid?”
I hesitate, recalling Steph’s reaction yesterday. It still bothers me that she thought something was wrong with Taylor for not telling. What if Scott says the same thing? There’s only one way to find out.
“No, an abused girl. Her father has been beating her up.” I hold my breath, waiting for his reaction.
Scott whistles. “That’s brutal. How old is she?”
I release my breath, relieved that he didn’t blame Taylor.
“Sarah’s age. I felt terrible for her after she told me.”
“Wow, she told you something like that? That’s heavy stuff.”
“Yeah, I guess so.”
“Poor kid. That must’ve been horrible. I can’t imagine what that would be like.” I want to throw my arms around Scott and hug him. I should have known he would come through – he’s always been a nice guy.
“Yeah,” I say noncommittally.
“Too bad we can’t do more for kids like that. It’s kind of depressing when you think about it. Anybody I know?”
If Scott cares about helpless children, that might include the one inside me. I suddenly feel a little lighter. Maybe it won’t be such a bad day after all.
“I can’t tell you who she is.”
“It’ll probably be in the papers soon. You can’t beat these small town reporters when they sniff out a story. Child abuse is a big one around here. Who would have thought it would be so close to home?”
Uncomfortable with Scott’s observation, I’m relieved to see the bus coming down the road. I don’t want to think about the headline possibilities for Taylor or for myself if our stories ever come to light. It’s not something I’ve considered – having such a dirty, horrible story in the paper for everybody to read.
Steph isn’t in the cafeteria for lunch period and she doesn’t show for any of our classes. I suppose she’s joined Mike and his gang, skipping classes and doing whatever they do. If only there was some way to get through to her and show her he isn’t worth it.
I run into the house after school, but nobody is around, and there’s no note on the table.
The phone rings just as I dump my knapsack in my room.
“Hello?”
“Hi, Kat.” My heart jumps at the sound of Aunt Sheila’s voice. Scott’s words about the newspapers have bothered me all day. I need to know Taylor is okay.
“How’s Taylor?” I take my coat off and throw it on the bed.
“She’s fine but exhausted. She’s been sleeping for the past three hours after all the interviews this morning. We’re keeping her here until her grandparents can pick her up. They should be here by tomorrow.”
“What about her father?” I ask.
“He definitely has some explaining to do. I don’t know if it will go to court or not.”
I release my breath in a loud whoosh. “Will it be in the papers?”
Aunt Sheila is quiet on the other end for a moment. “Probably, if it goes to court. Taylor will be protected as a minor, but the whole situation will be difficult. Her father is a principal.”
What would the media do to Taylor? I wonder what Mom’s reaction will be since she thinks so highly of Mr. Bradford.
“Don’t worry,” Aunt Sheila continues, “Taylor will be with her grandparents until this is all straightened out. She likely has a long road ahead of her, but at least she’s safe now.”
“What about her mom?”
“From what I understand, she will go through a series of interviews to determine her capabilities and perspective on the situation and what her intent is toward Taylor and her brother. It’s too soon to say.”
A page for Dr. Williams sounds in the background.
“I guess you have to go. Should I come in?”
“Take a break tonight, unless you want to say good-bye to Taylor.”
“Okay, I’ll probably come and see her later.”
“Kat…”
“Yes?”
“Thanks. I don’t know how you did it, but you managed what none of us could do. Somehow you reached out to Taylor and got her to open up. I’m so proud of you. If you were here right now, I’d give you a big hug. How’d you do it?”
“I don’t know. I guess I just listened to her and understood.”
A second page for Dr. Williams is announced in the background.
“Whatever you did – thanks.”
“Sure. Bye.”
Aunt Sheila’s words surprise me and make me feel good. How did I do it? I think it was the child inside me that reached out to Taylor. I understood what she was going through. Who knows? Maybe Taylor was simply ready to tell, and I’m the one who was there. She said she always wanted a big sister.
Briefly, I wonder about her brother Darren and his involvement in the whole situation. Was he aware of it? Did he try to help his sister?
Jared would never sit by and let somebody hurt me, or Sarah. I guess that’s one of the reasons I was never able to confide in Jared, even though we are very close. He would have been so upset. Jared is big, but Greg is a lot bigger.
Jared got suspended from school when he was in ninth grade for starting a fight. The other boy, Jamie Wilson, was picking on me. He was pushing me around and calling me names, when Jared and some of his friends came upon us. Jared flipped out. Jamie went home with a bloody nose and black eye. Jared went home with a three-day suspension slip and a sore fist.
If Jared was that upset with Jamie Wilson, I can’t imagine what he’d do to Greg – if he believed me.
I need to write in my journal. So much has been happening, and I haven’t written anything for days. It almost feels like I’m neglecting a part of myself.
I head out the patio door. The backyard is starting to fill with leaves of gold, red, orange, and brown. They rustle and scatter when I walk through them to the clubhouse. The air smells fresh and crisp. An image of Taylor jumping into a pile of leaves lightens my step.
In the clubhouse, everything looks familiar at first glance – the table in the middle with the wooden chairs, the curtains, Jared’s sports equipment piled high – but it feels different. The safe feeling I always get when I walk through the door is missing.
; Something’s not right here.
Then I see the mess behind the table. Skipping ropes, dishes from my old tea set, and Barbie clothes spill from the milk crates that have fallen onto the floor.
I shove the milk crates out of my way and look behind them.
My journal is gone.
Chapter Sixteen
Paralyzed, I stare at the empty spot on the floor. Where’s my journal?
Right now, somebody could be reading every word of all the personal things I wrote. If that’s so, then somebody knows the truth. I’ve lost control of my secret.
I panic. I have to find my journal.
Dropping to my hands and knees, I root through the mess on the floor, hoping to feel the familiar black book. I toss plates from my tea set across the room and ignore the shattering noise as they break against the walls. There’s nothing under the mountain of Barbie clothes either.
Who could have taken it? Nobody knows it’s here. My face is wet with tears. I have to find it. Nobody can read it. It’s mine.
“Hey Kat, you didn’t answer your door, so I figured you’d be down here. I need to talk to you about Steph—”
I jerk and my head bashes into the table. Any other time I would have laughed at him, standing speechless in the doorway of the clubhouse with his mouth hanging open.
“Jeez Kat, what’s going on?” Scott rushes over and kneels in front of me.
He reaches for my arms, but I pull back, trying to hide my tears.
“I have to find it. I have to!” I don’t resist when he pulls me closer, letting me rest my head on his shoulder.
“Okay, we’ll find it,” he whispers. “What’re we looking for?”
“Who could have it? I have to get it back,” I sob. “No, no, no – it can’t be gone.”
“What can I do, Kat? How can I help?” Scott’s voice sounds strangled.
Huge sobs rack my body, leaving me fighting for breath.
“Kat, you’re scaring the hell out of me. Look at me.” Scott’s voice is soft, yet firm.
I raise my head. The strength and tenderness in his eyes reach out to me, taking some of the edge off my panic. His arms chase away some of the chill. The only other person who has ever made me feel this safe is Jared.