by Amber Garza
“Adam, you can share with your sister,” I admonish him. “You have another car.” I indicate the other one nestled in the grass.
When he runs in the direction of it, Tripp turns to me, his eyebrows raised. “Leelee, huh?”
I shrug, putting Ainsley down. “She can’t say Hadley apparently.”
“I like it.” He locks eyes with mine, and for a minute I feel like I’m drowning in his dark brown eyes.
“I don’t.” I lower my gaze, feeling unnerved by his intense stare. “Look, you don’t have to keep babysitting with me. I’m sure you have more exciting things to do.”
“Not really,” he says.
I fix him with an incredulous stare. “You expect me to believe that?”
“You can believe whatever you want.” He plops down on the grass, bringing his knees up. Shielding his eyes with his hand, he peers up at me. “You like to think you know everything about me, Hadley, but the truth is you don’t know me at all. You get so angry at the popular crowd for judging you, but you do the same thing to us.”
Anger bubbles inside of me. I glare down at him. “It’s not the same thing at all. I’m just calling it like I see it.”
“Oh, yeah? Then go ahead. Now’s your chance. Tell me what you see in me.” He spreads out his hands before him, like an offering.
I bite my lip, lowering myself to the ground next to him. I’m ready to tell him off. To tell him what a jerk he is, how arrogant and selfish. Only I can’t. The truth is, that doesn’t really describe Tripp. Sure it describes Sonya and many others from that group. But he’s right about one thing. I don’t really know him. And in all the interactions I’ve had with him he’s seemed nice. I feel the fight withering inside of me, like a balloon deflating. I finally say the only honest thing I can. “I see a guy who has everything.” I turn to him and add, “And I guess I can’t figure out why you’re wasting your time hanging out with me.”
“Maybe this is where I want to be.”
I huff at that.
“Hadley, it’s clear that you’ve been treated badly by some of my friends. But I’m not my friends. I’m my own person. And I assure you this isn’t a part of some prank.” He laughs lightly. “Call me crazy, but I’ve enjoyed our conversations.” He flashes me a lopsided smile. “Even if most of them have included you calling me names.”
I want to come back with something, but clamp my mouth shut instead knowing that he’s right. “Sorry about that,” I mumble, the words stinging the back of my throat.
“So, what do you say Leelee? Can we agree to start over?”
“If you promise to never call me Leelee again.” I pick at a blade of grass, not able to look him in the eye.
“It’s a deal.” Tripp glances up at the kids as they run through the grass. “So, how do you feel about your new insta-family?”
“Insta-family. I like that.” Scrunching up my nose, I look at Ainsley and Adam. “Truthfully, I kinda liked it better when it was just Mom and me, but I know that Rob makes her happy, so I guess it’s fine.”
“Your dad’s not around?”
I wasn’t expecting Tripp to be so inquisitive. “Um…no, my dad’s around. My parents split up a couple of years ago, but he still lives here in Folsom.” Hoping to get the conversation off of me, I ask, “What about you? Are your parents still together?”
“Yeah.”
I feel a small pang of jealousy. “Well, that’s nice.”
“I guess.” His expression darkens, surprising me.
My gaze lifts to his house, and I wonder what goes on inside. Clearly there is more to Tripp’s story than just what I know. I’m about to press further when a car pulls into the driveway. I jump up to hold the kids back. I’ve witnessed their dad coming home enough to know that they will go running in his direction the minute they can. Once he’s parked, I allow them to go after him.
Then I turn to Tripp. “Last chance to get out of this.”
He smiles. “I’m not looking for a way out, Hadley.”
“It’s your funeral,” I say, before guiding him up to the house. As we step inside together, I work hard to temper the smile on my face. No matter how hard I try to act like this is no big deal, it certainly is. Tripp Bauer is having dinner at my house. It’s like I’ve entered some alternate universe or something. I try to imagine what Paige would say about this. Heck, anyone at our school would be shocked.
I wonder what Tripp's friends will think when they find out. Will he even tell them? The thought causes my insides to churn, but then I force them down. I don’t want to think about tomorrow. I just want to enjoy this moment.
Mom is a great cook, so I know even before she reveals what we’re having that Tripp will love it. Once I see that it's enchiladas, I’m even more pleased. It’s one of my favorites. When I hungrily scoop several on my plate, I instantly regret it. Taking in my pudgy stomach, I cringe. Tripp dates girls like Sonya. Girls who are thin and toned. I curse my gluttonous tendencies. Still, I lift my fork and take a bite, knowing I can’t put some of my food back in front of everyone. That would be weird.
“How is your dad, Tripp?” Rob asks.
Tripp swallows his food, wipes his mouth with a napkin and then looks at Rob. “He’s good.”
“I’ll have to give him a call and see if he wants to play a round of golf,” Rob says.
Tripp just nods and goes back to eating. For the next few minutes, Adam babbles about something, and then Mom and Rob chat about mundane stuff. Not that I’m listening to any of it. Tripp’s presence has rendered me useless. I chew in silence, acutely aware of the fact that Tripp is in my house sitting at my dining room table. My entire body feels like it's on fire, and my heart is beating so fast I fear I might be on the verge of cardiac arrest.
Every once in awhile I notice Tripp looking at me, and I force myself to slow down. If only I were one of those girls who only ate salad or got full after a few bites. Feeling like an imposter, I stop eating after finishing only one enchilada, and then push my plate back so I won't be tempted.
“Are you okay, Hadley?” Mom asks, eyeing my plate.
“Fine. Just full.” I rub my stomach.
“I hope you’re not getting sick,” Mom says, and I want to die right there at the table.
Embarrassed, I stare at my hands fidgeting in my lap.
“That was delicious, Jenny.”
Mom beams at Tripp’s words. “Thank you, Tripp. You’re welcome to come over anytime.” She gives me a pointed look, and I know exactly what she's thinking.
After dinner I walk Tripp to the door. It still feels surreal to have him here. When we step outside, cool air circles us, the scent of sweet flowers sweeping over me.
“That was fun.” Tripp shoves his fingers into the pocket of his jeans. “Thanks.”
“Sure.”
“I better get home. See you later?”
I nod as he turns away. Watching him walk down the street, elation fills me. Immediately, I turn around and race inside to call Paige and tell her all about it.
I pull into the school parking lot, music blaring through the speakers. If only the school wasn’t so close. I was enjoying my time alone on the road. After parking, I flip down the visor and take in my reflection. Pulling my lipgloss out of my backpack, I swipe it across my lips. Today I shed my usual sweatshirt and I’m wearing a fitted black top over my jeans. Having Tripp over last night made me want to dress a little nicer. I have no idea what to expect when I see him today at school, but after his assurances that he’s not like his friends, I’m a little hopeful.
I smile thinking about Paige’s reaction when I called her. She couldn’t believe Tripp had dinner at my house. I smooth down my hair and then open the car door, yanking my backpack out. While I fling it over my shoulder, I spot Tripp’s Honda veering in my direction. Much to my delight, he parks right next to me. My heart skips a beat as I close the car door and then lean against the side of it.
“Hey, Leelee.” Tripp winks at me as he gets o
ut of his car. Once he straps his backpack on, it pulls his thin t-shirt tight, revealing the defined muscles underneath.
“You promised.” I mock indignation.
“Sorry.” He holds his palms up, stepping away from his vehicle. “Looks like you got the car today, huh?”
I nod. “Yeah. Mom’s stuck at home with the little terrors today.”
“They’re not that bad.” Tripp falls in step beside me.
I almost squeal with delight as we head toward the school together. It’s like all my high school dreams are coming true. I’m about ready to invite him over for dinner again, when Maverick and Toby start heading in our direction. The panicked look on Tripp’s face causes dread to sink into my gut.
“Hey, Hadley. I’ll catch up with you later, okay.” He barely glances at me before jogging off in their direction.
I stand in the middle of the parking lot, my face hot as the three of them strut onto campus. When they reach the hallway a group of cheerleaders descend on them. Tripp doesn’t even look back at me. He fist-bumps his friends, and laughs with the girls. Observing the exchange, I realize that no matter what I do I will never be a part of their group. Even if Tripp hangs out with me after school it won’t change things. At school I will still be invisible to him.
Forcing my legs to move, I take deliberate steps forward. When I get to the hallway, someone bumps my elbow. I catch a whiff of strong perfume and know exactly who it is.
I turn to face Sonya. She towers over me with a scowl painted across her face. “I know what you’re doing,” she says.
I give her a confused look. “Walking to class?”
“Don’t get smart with me.” She places a slender hand on her hip. “I saw you talking to Tripp in the parking lot. Don’t forget that I know all about your little crush on him.” Sonya’s friends giggle behind her, and I have the urge to curl up in the fetal position on the ground and hide.
“That was a long time ago,” I say through gritted teeth, my gaze sweeping the area around us. I really hope Tripp doesn’t overhear this.
“Tripp would never be interested in someone like you.” Her eyes rove over my body and her nose turns upward in disgust.
“He could do a lot worse.” I give her a pointed look. “Oh, wait. He has.”
She glares at me. “I see you haven’t changed much, Hadley.” Then she leans in close. “Just remember what I know. I’ve kept a huge secret for you. Don’t force me to spill it.”
I swallow hard as she and her groupies stalk off. For the umpteenth time I curse myself for sharing my family’s secret with her. Only we were friends then. How was I to know she would change so drastically when we got in high school? My stomach churns. If it gets out, I’ll never be able to show my face again.
TWELVE
TRIPP
I sneak out of the house, needing some fresh air. Needing to get away and have a few minutes alone. My ribs hurt with each breath. Without even looking under my shirt I know what it looks like. I can picture the bruises blooming on my flesh, the ugly shade of yellow and purple. No one will ever see. No one will ever know. Pretty soon the marks will disappear and my family will go back to pretending tonight never happened.
Only I’ll never forget. The images will continue to come back in snapshots, the memories etched in my brain like a tattoo. Like an ugly tattoo, a poor decision made on a drunken night that no matter how much you wish it would vanish, it’s there to stay.
Angry with my dad for being such an asshole and angry with my mom for being such a wimp, I let out a low groan. It comes from deep in my throat and burns like acid. I will not cry. That’s one thing I stopped when I was a child. He doesn’t deserve my tears. And he will not turn me into some whimpering baby.
My muscles pulsate under my skin. One of these days I’ll fight back. At least that’s what I keep telling myself. But when he starts using me as a human punching bag, I go numb. I can’t move. I can’t bring myself to hit him back.
I near my neighbor’s mailbox, and all the anger inside of me explodes like a colorful firework when it sprays across the dark sky. Bringing my arm forward, I connect with the mailbox. I hit it so hard, the aluminum bends backward. Picturing my dad’s face, I feel a strange satisfaction. That is until my hand starts to throb.
“Shit!” I shake it out, my knuckles sticky as blood oozes from my knuckles. Grabbing my hand, I hold it close to my body, the pain searing up my arm.
“Tripp?” A girl’s voice speaks into the quiet night air.
Hadley stands near the side of her house with a garbage bag in her hand. She drops the bag inside the garbage can, closes the lid and then starts walking toward me. I don’t say a word, hoping she’ll just go away. I don’t want her to see me like this.
“You okay?” She tentatively steps forward.
I’m surprised that she even cares, since I haven’t spoken to her since the night I ate at her house. It’s just that I felt like such a jerk when I avoided her at school the following day. My guilt has been keeping me away ever since. I nod, unable to speak. I’m afraid if I do she’ll hear the pain in my voice.
Hadley walks faster, bridging the gap between us. “What happened?”
I shake my head. “Nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
Her gaze lands on my bloodied hand. “That’s not nothing, Tripp. Did you get in a fight or something?”
“Yeah, with a mailbox.” I laugh bitterly, the slight movement causing me to cringe as pain shoots through my hand.
“You hit a mailbox?”
Her concerned look unnerves me. “Like I said, it was no big deal. I was just kinda pissed off, and I wanted to get out my aggression.”
“You were mad so you beat up a mailbox?” Her eyebrows knit together in a look of skepticism.
I force a grin while still clutching my hand. “When you put it that way, I guess it does sound kind of stupid.”
“Stay right here, and I’ll grab the first aid kit,” she says to me.
“You don’t have to do that. I can clean up at home,” I tell her, feeling stupid.
“No, really. You should get that cleaned up now.” She whirls around before I can protest again. “I’ll be right back,” she calls over her shoulder.
I stand outside her house, grateful for her help. I could really use a friend tonight. It’s dark outside, and I pray that my dad stays in bed and doesn’t get up looking for me. Although I think it’s a pretty safe bet that he’s out for the night. Headlights flash, and I stiffen. A minivan barrels down the road, and the lady in the driver’s seat doesn't even notice me. Her eyes are trained forward as she passes.
The front door to Hadley's house springs open and she marches out, holding a first aid kit in her hand. Her hair is pulled back in a messy bun, and a few dark strands frame her face. Under the streetlamp her face looks even more pale than usual. She doesn’t have on any makeup, but she still looks beautiful.
“Thanks,” I say sheepishly.
“No problem. Are you gonna tell me what pissed you off so bad?”
“I’d rather not talk about it.” I stare hard at my feet. A dog barks in the distance, and car tires rumble on the gravel.
The kit clicks as Hadley opens it. She rummages around inside and pulls out some antiseptic cloths.
“This will probably sting,” she warns before running one over my fingers.
It does sting, and I wince as the sterile scent fills my nostrils. My pulse spikes at her close proximity, and I work hard to keep my breathing even. I watch her face as she strokes my fingers with the cloth. She works with precision, her expression soft. It feels good to be cared for, and I find myself drawn to her. For one brief moment I imagine pulling up my shirt and showing her my wounds. Would she still care for me if she knew? Would she touch my scars? Would she comfort me? I clear my throat, silencing the questions. Thinking about the shitty way I treat her at school, I feel guilty. Hadley deserves better than that. “Hadley, I know we haven’t really talked all week. I’ve just b
een kinda busy, you know.”
She swipes Neosporin over my cuts and it feels warm and soothing, causing the stinging to subside. Then she grabs out some bandages. “Busy with your real friends, you mean?”
“You’re my real friend too,” I say softly, and I mean it. Maybe my only real friend. Certainly the only friend who’s ever done this for me. But I don’t say those last two statements. They catch in the back of my throat. The doubtful look on her face causes me to wonder if maybe I’ve misread this whole situation. “Aren’t you?’
After bandaging up my wounds, she looks up. “I don’t know, Tripp. You tell me.”
My face sags, knowing I’ve been a total dick to her. I also know that just saying we can be friends won’t change the way things are. “I like hanging out with you, Hadley, but it’s just complicated.”
“Because I’m not one of the popular girls, right?”
“No, it’s just that I know you don’t want to hang with my group. You’ve made that clear. Besides, you said that they’re mean to you. I don’t want to subject you to that.”
It sounds plausible. Only I know it’s a lie. I wonder if she can see through my flimsy words. I wonder if she knows the truth - that I’m not really trying to protect her. I’m protecting myself. That’s all I ever do, really. Before she can tell me to screw off, I move closer to her. After tonight, I’m not willing to completely let her go. I pin her with an intense stare. “That doesn’t mean we can’t hang out after school though.”
She narrows her eyes, and purses her lips like she's wrestling with her decision. I hold my breath, waiting for her response.
“Okay, I guess,” she finally says.
“Cool.” I smile, relieved. Then I hold up my hand. “And let’s keep this little injury just between us. Okay?”
Wordlessly, she nods. When I walk off, I feel lighter somehow. It’s almost like Hadley didn’t just bandage my hand. It’s almost like she bandaged my soul.
THIRTEEN
HADLEY
I roll onto my back, stretching my arms above my head. Sunlight filters in through my window, painting yellow stripes on my cream colored walls. Propping myself up on my elbows, I glance over at the alarm clock on my dresser. I'm shocked to see that it's almost noon. How in the world did I ever sleep so late? Sure it's Saturday, but the twins are here this weekend, and usually they're up squealing at six a.m. Running a hand over my unruly hair, I sit up and let the covers slide from my body to bunch around my waist. I kick them off and swing my legs over the side of the bed. The silence is eerie as I walk across the carpeted floor and into the hallway. It reminds me of being at Dad's.