Hickville Confessions: A Hickville High Novel

by Karlik, Mary

  Ryan sat next to her sister, put her arm around her, and pulled her head to her shoulder. “I don’t know what’s going on, and you don’t have to tell me. But know that I’m here for you. I always will be.”

  Kenzie nodded but kept silent. They sat like that until Ryan’s arm was full of pins and needles. “Kenzie, we need to go downstairs.”

  Her sister sat up. “Yeah.” She stood and walked to the door, then turned to Ryan. “You shouldn’t be nice to me. I don’t deserve it.” She left the room, closing the door behind her.

  “What? Kenzie, wait. You can’t say something like that and leave.” Too late—she’d already fled down the stairs.

  On the way to the kitchen, Ryan traipsed through the den. She wanted to tell Justin what had happened with Kenzie, but he was in total guy football mode. It was cool to see him sitting with Austin, her dad, and her uncle. They groaned in unison when a pass was fumbled. She smiled to herself. Guys bonded over football the way girls bonded over shopping.

  Wow, how stereotypical is that?

  She was still smiling when she entered the kitchen. Mackenzie sat at the kitchen table with Aunt Susan. She had erased the troubled expression that Ryan had seen and was listening to Aunt Susan talking about their latest trip in the motor home.

  Kelsey stood at the counter slicing apples. She turned to Ryan. “Want to help with these? The sooner we finish, the sooner we can watch the game.”

  Aunt Susan said, “I’ll cut those apples. My goodness, I didn’t know you were such a fan.” She said it with a smirk on her face.

  “Well, I’ve learned a lot about it since Austin has been hanging around. It’s fun.” She handed Ryan a knife.

  Aunt Susan looked at Ryan. “Are you into football too?”

  “It’s cool.”

  “And you?” Aunt Susan said to Mackenzie.

  “Not so much. But it’s hard to avoid in Texas.”

  “Hand me that.” Aunt Susan indicated the knife Ryan held. “My, my, how the Quinn girls have changed. The day you three drove up to this house and met us on the porch just about ripped my heart out. Kelsey was convinced her life had been ruined. Ryan was full of spit and vinegar and looking like she was ready to tear the world a new one. And Mackenzie, bless your heart, I’ve never seen such a sad person in all my life.” She shook her head. “Look at you now. Kelsey has embraced the farm. Ryan, you’ve handled what happened to you with enough courage to be a lesson to the rest of us.” She turned to Mackenzie and winked. “I can’t wait to read the story you and that McGuire boy ferreted out.”

  “I’m proud of the way the girls have adjusted.” Ryan’s mom smiled at Aunt Susan, but the corners of her eyes sagged a bit and Ryan wondered how well her mom had adjusted to the move.

  Aunt Susan peeled and chopped the apples twice as fast as Kelsey and Ryan. “All right, girls, I’ll take over. I don’t give two figs for football. Go watch the game.”

  Ryan looked at her mom.

  “Go on.”

  They didn’t have to be asked twice. Kenzie practically sprinted from the room. Kelsey grabbed a soda and joined the guys in the den.

  Ryan went upstairs after Kenzie. She found her little sister changing into running clothes. “You’re going for another run? You ran this morning.”

  “I need to clear my head.”

  Ryan stood in the doorway. “What’s going on?”

  Kenzie shook her head. “I can’t talk about it. Not yet. I will, just not yet. I have to figure things out first.”

  “Are you and Travis okay?”

  “I hope so.” She pulled her running shoes on. “Look, Ryan, I know this doesn’t make sense and I don’t mean to be so dramatic. I’ll tell you everything. I just have to figure a few things out first. Don’t push me.”

  “Okay.” She stepped away from the door. What else could she do?

  Mackenzie pushed past her, down the stairs, and out the door.

  Ryan jogged more slowly down the stairs. She shot Justin a look that said I need to talk and went onto the porch. The wind had died, but it was still cold—too cold to be outside without a jacket.

  She had turned to retreat to the house when Justin came through the door holding his letter jacket. “Here. I thought you might need this.”

  She shrugged into the jacket. “Thanks.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Something’s up with Mackenzie. I’m worried about her.”

  Kelsey came through the door with Austin on her heels. “Did Mackenzie just go on another run?” The group moved to the wicker furniture nestled in the corner of the porch. Ryan and Justin sat on the glider and Austin and Kelsey snuggled on the loveseat across from it.

  Ryan nodded. “Yep. She said she had to clear her head.”

  Kelsey shook her head. “She ran three times yesterday.”

  “Wow. There’s more.” Ryan explained what had happened earlier.

  Austin nodded. “I wondered what’d happened to Travis. When I texted him, he just said he needed to be home.”

  Ryan said, “I guess there’s nothing we can do until she decides to talk.”

  “I think Mom should know that she’s running like two to three times a day. That can’t be good.”

  Ryan shrugged. “I don’t know—I mean, she used to work out six hours a day when she was in gymnastics.”

  Kelsey shook her head. “That’s different. I get the feeling this all has something to do with Braden McGuire.”

  “Aunt Susan mentioned a couple of times the story they’re working on. What’s up with that? Did you know she was doing this?”

  Kelsey said, “No. I know Braden has the hots for her, but I didn’t think she was even talking to him.”

  Austin nodded. “She and Travis are always hanging out, but he says they’re just friends.”

  Ryan pulled the jacket more tightly around herself. “Well, we’re not going to solve this today and I’m freezing.”

  They stood and filed back into the house. Ryan and Justin took a seat on the hearth in front of the fire. Thank God for gas fireplaces.

  When Kenzie returned from her run, Ryan resisted the urge to follow her upstairs and quiz her. Instead, she focused on enjoying the day. Justin seemed to feel more comfortable with her family. He even joked a little with her dad during dinner.

  It was the perfect Sunday. Football, family, and a feast. Her mom had outdone herself. Aunt Susan had brought homemade vanilla ice cream laced with Baileys Irish Cream. The day seemed to fly by and in a blink of an eye, she was standing next to Justin’s truck saying good-bye.

  “I had a great time.” He wrapped his arms around her.

  She nestled against his chest. “I wish you didn’t have to go.”

  “Me too. But I need to spend some time with my mom.”

  She pulled away enough to look in his eyes. “I didn’t even think about this being your mom’s first Sunday home.”

  “It’s okay. We spent all day yesterday together.” He kissed her softly. “There’s nowhere I’d rather be than right here.” He lowered his mouth to hers again.

  This time it wasn’t a sweet kiss. It was full of heat. He leaned against the side of his truck and she leaned against him. The more the kiss deepened, the more tightly he held her. When the kiss broke, they were both breathless.

  “I’d better go.”

  She pulled away. “Okay. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “I have a shrink appointment in the afternoon. I’m going to miss your meeting.”

  “Let me know how it goes.” This would be the perfect time to tell him she was having surgery on Tuesday, but she couldn’t make herself say the words. She’d told his dad without a second thought, but Justin was struggling with his own stuff. It didn’t seem fair to give him her stuff too.

  She’d tell him tomorrow—after his appointment.

  25

  Justin waited outside Dr. O’Malley’s office with his parents on either side of him. Was it weird for his mom to be there without b
eing an in-patient? The white-knuckled grip she had on the armrests of her chair told him it was.

  He rubbed her back. “Hey, are you okay?”

  She shot him an anxious glance. “I’m sorry that my illness has affected you so much.”

  He shook his head. “Don’t do that to yourself. We’re all going to be okay.”

  She let go of the armrest and twisted her hands in her lap. “I want to be. Letting go is—difficult.”

  “I don’t see moving on with our lives as letting go. We will always remember and love her.”

  His mom nodded. “In my mind I know that. I know she’ll never be back. But I miss her with every beat of my heart.”

  His dad stood and moved over to sit next to his mom. “Sandy, we all miss her with every beat of our hearts.”

  She gave his dad a weak smile. “I know. I know I have to get on with my life. I have to let y’all live yours.” She grabbed each of their hands. “This is our family now. A family of three.”

  Justin’s dad covered her hand with both of his. “Yes. But she’s always with us, in our hearts, in our memories.”

  Dr. O’Malley walked through his office door and smiled at the scene before him.

  He must think we’re the freaking Brady Bunch.

  “Justin, are you ready?”

  He stood. “Yes, sir.” Justin followed him into his office and sat on the sofa. The attitude he’d had was gone. He needed help and he’d answer every question, try whatever Dr. O asked—pretty much anything to stop the brain freezes.

  “How are things going at home?”

  “Better. Mom and Dad were at my game. That’s the first time that’s happened.”

  “Good. You seem pleased.”

  “Yeah. It was cool.”

  “So tell me what’s been going on other than that.”

  Justin took a deep breath. No sense sugarcoating it. He was here to get help. “I’ve been having these freezes.”

  “Can you describe them?”

  “It’s like an out-of-body experience or something. I don’t know. It’s crazy. One minute I’m fine and then bam—my brain takes me to the night Mom tried to kill herself. I freeze. It’s crazy. My brain shuts down or locks. I can’t make sense of things around me. My dad thinks it’s PTSD.”

  Dr. O wrote a few notes on his pad and looked up. “Tell me what happened the first time you experienced this freeze.”

  Justin told him what had happened that night in his truck.

  “How often are you experiencing this sensation?”

  “It happened once at my girlfriend’s house and again during a game.”

  “Do you know what triggered each of these events?”

  “At my girlfriend’s, it was seeing Austin McCoy. He’s dating her sister.”

  “He is the boy who texted Chelsea when the accident happened?”

  “Yeah. It was like all of a sudden I got it. I mean really got it, that he had nothing to do with Chelsea’s death. It was Chelsea’s fault. She killed those other girls. That’s big, right?”

  “Very big.” Dr. O smiled, but it didn’t last long. In the next breath, his face fell back to its normal neutral expression. “Go on.”

  “It was crazy—almost like my brain was shouting that it was her fault. And then it happened. Brain freeze. My mind went from the accident to the night I found Mom with the gun.”

  Dr. O wrote on his pad. “Tell me what happened at the game.”

  “That was weird. I was reminded of one of Chelsea’s paintings and then it happened.” He slumped back into the sofa.

  Dr. O’Malley set his notepad on the chair next to him. “Let’s go back to the night you found your mom with the gun. Take me through that night.”

  Justin didn’t want to visit that memory. But the thought of having another freak-out scared him more. His chest tightened just thinking about walking through the door that night. “My dad was at work, but he knew something was wrong. I was out with Ryan.”

  “Ryan?”

  “My girlfriend. When I got home I knew things weren’t right.” Sweat beaded across his forehead.

  “Take your time, Justin. I’m going to give you some tools to reground yourself. Put your feet on the floor, your back against the sofa. Take a deep, slow breaths. When you’re ready, continue your story.”

  Justin concentrated on the feel of his feet against the floor. He breathed deep and slow. Then he kept his gaze on Dr. O’Malley and finished his story. He had to stop a couple of times and practice the regrounding techniques, but he got through it. When he finished, he was exhausted.

  Dr. O’Malley smiled. “You were very brave to go after that gun. You’ve been under a lot of stress since your sister died. You’ve cared for your mom, taken on household duties, and managed to perform in school and athletics. It’s going to take some time to work though this. Do you feel the relaxation and regrounding tools are helpful?”

  “They seem to be. But what do I do if I’m on the football field?”

  “The key is to recognize triggers. As soon as you feel the anxiety building, reground yourself. If you’re on the field, focus on the seams of the ball, on the number of another player—anything to keep your mind focused on the here and now. But the other part of it is to allow yourself to remember in the appropriate venue.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “When it’s safe. Here with me. With your girlfriend, your parents. A best friend. Over time, the memory will be easier.”

  Justin nodded and promised himself he’d do all of those things. He couldn’t imagine talking about that night over and over. He didn’t want to be like his mom—stuck reliving the memory. Dr. O’Malley discussed relaxation techniques with him and more “tools” to reground himself. He wasn’t sure he bought into all that stuff, but he’d give it a try.

  When the session was over, Dr. O’Malley talked to the family, reviewing with them the same things he’d told Justin. Then he asked Justin and his dad to step out—it was his mom’s turn.

  “Fell better?” His dad took a seat in the waiting room next to him.

  “Yeah. At least I know it’ll probably get better.”

  “It will get better.”

  Justin nodded. He sure as hell hoped so. He pulled his phone from his pocket. Today was Ryan’s big day—the introduction of Teens Against Violence. She’d said she was scared to get up in front of the school. He’d hoped he would make it back in time to be there for her, but it was going to start in fifteen minutes, so that wasn’t happening.

  Justin: Good luck. You’ll do great.

  Ryan: Thanks.

  *

  I can do this. She sat on the stage with Braden McGuire and Mrs. Bettis as the last of the students took their seats in the auditorium. Ryan took a deep breath as Mrs. Bettis stepped up to the podium.

  Mrs. Bettis spoke softly into the mic. “Thank you for coming today.”

  Somebody from the back yelled, “We didn’t have a choice.” Laughter filtered through the crowd.

  Mrs. Bettis continued, “Bullying has been an issue in this country and in our school. It’s not just about picking on kids at school. It takes other forms too. That’s what we’re here to discuss today.” She pointed to the large screen behind her. “Please focus your attention on this short video.”

  The film threw out statistics. One in ten teen girls are victims of dating violence. One in five teen girls and one in seven teen boys have experienced rape or sexual assault.

  Ryan watched the audience for a reaction. Nobody seemed to get it. They were texting or talking or sitting there with glazed looks on their faces. How could they not care?

  After the video ended, Mrs. Bettis nodded to Ryan.

  She stood on shaky legs. The note cards had gone soft from the sweat in her hands. The click of her heels echoed as she walked to the podium. She looked at the bored faces below the stage, cleared her throat, and a heard a snicker from the audience. She set her note cards down and gripped the sides of the lectern. S
he had to make them listen, to make them understand.

  “I am a victim of violence. But it didn’t begin at the fountain. It began three years ago, in Chicago, at a party. I was excited to be invited to this party—all the popular kids were there.”

  As she spoke, the memory of that day flooded back to her. She’d been attending the Fine Arts Academy magnet school for a few weeks and was getting noticed for her work. She’d climbed to the top of the cool ladder in a matter of days. The invitation to Lauren Butler’s party was sure to secure her place in the high school hierarchy. “I begged my mom to let me go. I wish now that my mom had never given in.” The whispering around the room stopped.

  It was easier when they ignored her. She took another deep breath.

  “It was one of those parties like you see in teen movies. There were so many cars, we had to park down the street. The parents were home. They took our keys at the door and served all the alcohol we wanted.” Her stomach turned as she got to the next part. “It was the first time I’d had a beer, but I met a guy who encouraged me.”

  Alex Butler. He stood next to the tap laughing at something. He had dark, almost black, curly hair, and perfect skin. She tried not to stare at him as she closed in on the keg, but it was hard not to.

  He looked Ryan in the eyes. “I’ve got to do something, but I’ll be in the basement later. Come find me.” He jogged down the patio steps leading to the pool and high-fived some guys.

  Her friend Kat smirked. “He’s hot for you, girl.”

  Ryan swallowed another sip. “You think so?”

  “Yeah—so are you going to go to him later?”

  “Should I?”

  “Of course you should. He’s Alex Butler.”

  Ryan felt giddy. “Yeah, he is, and he flirted with me. How long should I wait?”

  “I don’t know, but let him get there first.”

  “Ha. Ha. Very funny.” Ryan topped off her cup the way she’d seen Alex do it.

  Kat looked at the guys gathered by the pool. “Think he’d share his friends?”

  “There are lots of guys here. Fill your cup and let’s mingle.”