by Xana Jordan
“Our Stacy sure has had a rough time,” she says softly, reaching over from her seat to pat her leg gently.
“She’s a fighter, though,” I add looking down at my brave warrior, always having to fight some battle or another. If I could fight them for her, I would, without giving it a second thought.
“You can’t let her push you away, and we all know she’s gonna try.” Mom looks from me to Stace, Dad nodding in agreement.
“Strong-willed and independent, that one is, but not as tough as she wants everyone to believe,” Dad chimes in, looking intently at me.
“Don’t I know it,” I chuckle softly enough to not wake her.
“Gives ya a run for your money, eh son?” he laughs.
“All the time,” I reply, stealing a moment to think about all of the ways she’s challenged me. “But, I don’t mind.” Mom smiles at me, all teary-eyed and sentimental.
“I’m gonna take her upstairs, let her sleep a little longer.” I ease from under her and scoop her into my arms. “Let me know when dinner is,” I tell her before carrying sleeping beauty to my room.
She shuffles in my arms as I place her on the bed, remove her shoes, and tuck a blanket around her. Changing my own clothes, I settle in beside her, flipping on the television to the sports channel. Feeling me beside her, she snuggles into my side, her head and arms on top of me then settles back to sleep.
I’m apparently more tired than I thought, because I am jolted out of sleep by Stace thrashing around in the bed next to me, kneeing and hitting me as she fights back at something.
“NO! Please!” she calls out, her face covered in tears, “Stop, please! Don’t hurt me.” I wrap my arms around her as gently as possible and draw her to lie upon my chest, and whisper soothing words I hope will calm her down.
“Sshhh, babe. I’ve got you. You’re just dreaming. Wake up, Stace. I’m here. Sshhh. You’re alright.” Squeezing her a little more lightly, I can feel the fight in her weaken as her sobs slow down somewhat.
“That’s it. Calm down and breathe. I’ve got you, Scarlett.”
“Cade,” she says weakly, her sleep-filled voice scratchy as she chokes back tears.
“Yeah, it’s me. You were dreaming. I’m right here,” I reassure her when she opens her to find me looking right at her.
She wraps her body around mine to hold on with a fierce grip I return. Stroking her hair I allow Stace more time to fight her way out of her dream before I ask any questions.
When her breathing has returned to normal, I ask, “What were you dreaming that had you so scared?” She buries her head in the crook of my neck and strokes the opposite cheek.
“I can’t really remember, but I was terrified. I haven’t had a dream that scared me that bad. I’m still scared. Even though I’m awake, it still feels real.”
Holding her head in place, I kiss the top and say, “It’s gonna be okay. You’re safe with me.”
After a few moments she loosens her hold and slides down just a touch to look up at me. “Sorry I’m such a mess,” she frowns.
“Nothing to apologize for,” I assure her.
“You’re always having to deal with my drama. That’s not fair to you,” her pointer finger running along my chin.
“Fair or not, doesn’t matter to me, because I don’t see it that way. I’m just me and you’re mine, so this is the way it is. Period.” She shakes her head at me.
“You’re something else, you know that?”
“You like it,” I tease leaving a peck on her nose. “Who was that man you were talking to at the cemetery?” I ask, my voice serious and calm.
Her back straightens beneath my hand and her body stills, a long silence falling between us. “He said he was my dad,” she whispers, almost inaudibly. What did she just say?
“He was...is… your father? What the Hell? What did he want?” I rapidly fire off questions, making her hide her face from me before nodding. Damn, I need to get a grip or I’ll scare her more..
“That’s what he said.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I haven’t seen him since I was really little, and I’ve only seen him in a few pictures, but I think he was telling the truth.”
“Why do you say that?” I ask, not understanding how she can just believe a stranger like that.
“He did kinda look like the pictures I remember seeing, but it just really feels like he’s telling the truth. He looks really different, though.”
We sit in silence for a few long moments before I dare to ask the question that’s been nagging at my mind. “What happened with you two before I got there?” She interrupts me quickly, but I carry on with my questions. “Don’t tell me nothing, because I saw how scared you were. You were terrified after being attacked, but this was totally different. You were scared on a whole other level. You still are.”
I hold her chin up to look in her eyes, but she casts them toward my chest instead. I try to give her time to gather her thoughts and respond, but the longer she takes to speak, the more on edge I become. This may be a lot worse than I first thought.
“Stace,” I say gently, trying my best to hide my apprehension. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”
Tears are beginning to form in her eyes, not yet ready to fall, but making her eyes a glassy green. I hate seeing her like this. She’s always so energetic, full of life, but this is something that throws me off. I run my free hand over her cheek, moving her hair over her shoulder, nuzzling our noses together in the process.
“I don’t,” she begins, her voice shaky, cracking slightly. “I don’t know. I can’t remember everything he said to me, but for some reason I can’t explain, him being there wasn’t right. It’s like my body just took over and reacted,” she pauses to pick at the neckline of my shirt.
“What do you mean, it took over?”
“I just… I couldn’t breathe and my body wouldn’t move. I couldn’t really focus on anything but that, until I heard your voice. I just knew I had to leave.” She bows her head to lean against me and I hold her more firmly, giving us both time to regain our composure.
What on Earth could he have done to make her respond that way? She didn’t even know who he was until he told her. Did he sneak up on her, or has this week just been too much for her to handle and she’s finally reached her limit? Whatever it is, I’m going to take care of it.
I’m brought out of my thoughts when she shifts in my hold, having dozed off again. This week has really taken its toll on her, and I let her nap a bit longer until Mom knocks softly on my door, before stepping just inside my room. Her head tilts to the side as she takes in Stacy’s sleeping form.
“Poor, sweet girl must be so drained,” she says, her words full of sympathy and caring. “Dinner will be ready in about fifteen minutes if you want to wake her and join us.”
“Sounds good,” I quietly reply. She nods then leaves us alone. Our brief conversation must have woken my girl up because she shifts to my side then opens her eyes slowly.
“Join who?” her sleep-filled voice breaks the silence.
“Hey, babe. Feel better?” I place a kiss on her hair and she smiles just a bit.
“I fell asleep again? What’s wrong with me?” she moans, snuggling further into my side.
“You’re just needed to rest, so don’t worry over it.” She nods reluctantly and I brush her bangs out of her eyes. “Feel like dinner? Mom said it’s almost ready.” I haven’t eaten since breakfast, neither has she, so I don’t have to be told she needs to eat.
Stretching with a stifled yawn, she moves to sit up on the bed. “I could eat a little, I think,” she replies as I stand and stretch my back.
Putting my hands out to her, I take hers and pull her up to stand in front of me. Wrapping her in a hug, I cover her lips with mine in a slow kiss she eagerly returns, leaving us both breathless at its end. “I’ll meet ya there. I need to use the restroom,” she tells me and we make our own way to dinner.
It�
��s been two weeks since Tina’s funeral and school will be starting in a few days, well, band camp will. Xana’s mom, Diane, is taking us shopping today to get us things we need before we head back to Magnolia tomorrow to get ready for summer band.
I honestly can’t wait to be back in the dorms. It’s hard enough keeping my grandparents from worrying over the bad dreams that have made their way to a more permanent presence in my life. Sometimes I can remember bits and pieces that don’t seem to make any sense, while other times, I simply wake up terrified, literally unable to go back to sleep. I almost prefer those times.
Waking to see the little girl in my dreams isn’t something I look forward to. Her face is covered in tears and her lips never stop quivering. And those watery, doe-like eyes of hers break my heart. I haven’t been able to keep her face out of my mind since she first appeared. The only times I’m able to keep it at bay, are when I’m with Xana, Noel, and Cade. Even then, it doesn’t last long. Hopefully, my full class load will help keep my mind more occupied. It needs a break.
“Do you girls need anything else from here before we check out?” Mrs Bradford asks as we place the last item from our list in our cart.
Glancing over our full basket, we both giggle. “I think we could use a kitchen sink,” I tease, causing them to laugh out loud. We’ve already been to Kohl’s, Target, the mall, and the office supply store. What else could we possibly need that we haven’t already gotten?
“Watch what you wish for, smarty pants. I just may get you one,” she shouts back. Xana covering her face to hide her laughter.
While we wait in the checkout line, NAME goes over tomorrow’s schedule for moving our stuff back into the dorm. We’re lucky to have been placed back into Beckner Hall, in the same room, so that’s a plus.
“Since you aren’t able to check-in until noon, we’ll leave here about ten and meet you at the boys’ house, Stacy. We’ll grab some lunch before loading up all y’all’s stuff and moving you in. Does that sound alright?” She moves the cart forward in line toward the cashier, so Xana and I begin putting our items on the conveyor belt to be scanned.
“That sounds good. You don’t have to worry over me though. Cade and I can get my things moved over this weekend.”
“Yeah, like that changes our minds. I don’t know why you even try to get out of it. It’ll never happen,” she smiles while shaking her head at me, and I grin.
“Gotta try, though.” She puts her arms around both of us and hugs us close.
“Maybe, but I’m the mom. I always win.” She smiles down at the two of us and says, “Now get back to work unloading the cart. We have more places to go.” That woman is something else.
Band camp practice starts tomorrow morning and I’m exhausted. We’ve just come back from the boys’ house a bit ago and are getting ready for bed. This August heat is even more oppressive than normal and I can barely breathe. Humidity is not my friend these days.
“You’re going to fry out there,” I tell Xana as she comes in from the showers and puts her sweaty clothes in her hamper. It’s already over one hundred and tomorrow is supposed to be much worse. “Do you have enough sunscreen or should we go buy you more?” I hang my damp towels on the closet hooks and brush through my wet hair.
“Don’t remind me. I’m just hoping after the morning marching warm-ups we get to practice our music inside for the rest of the day.” Xana changes into her pajamas while looking her arms and legs over. “This afternoon at the lake was almost more than I could take, and I was in the shade most of the time with a t-shirt over my swimsuit.” She applies the Senegence Climate Control she swears saves her life, on her face and extremities, letting out several sighs as she does.
“I’m surprised caveman let you stay in the sun for so long. It was obvious you were burning. I gave him more credit than that,” I tell her and begin brushing my teeth.
“Oh, he tried to make me leave.”
“But?” Her face turns pink as she flashes me a grin.
“I may have pouted a little.” I should have known.
“I bet he figures out your tricks pretty soon,” I warn her, putting away my things from the counter and climb on the bed.
“He knew what was going on but let me stay anyway. I know when to pick my battles, though.” She finishes putting the lotion on her body, taking her pills before sitting on her bed to watch some television.
“Damn, woman! How many pills did you just take?” I tease, but her bottle collection has grown significantly since May.
“I only took a few,” she shoots back. “What do you want to watch?” she asks, obviously avoiding taking the medication talk any further. That’s fine, for now. I know she’s gone through a lot with her PCOS diagnosis, and can understand why she’d rather not talk about it. Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome is not exactly something a young woman our age is prepared to deal with.
“Anything sounds fine. I don’t really care much,” I answer as she flips through our choices on the channel guide. Finally stopping on a music channel, she turns it down low enough for just us to hear before turning off the lights.
Several moments have passed between us in the darkness, when I attempt to break the tension that hangs in the air. “You know I’m here to listen, right? That you can tell me what’s bothering you.”
“Yeah, I know,” she answers softly. “It’s always so complicated, but right now, I just wanna sleep.”
“Okay.” I lie in bed for goodness knows how long until I hear weird noises I can’t place. After several more moments, I realize they are coming from my best friend. Climbing out of bed I make my way to her and pull back the covers. “Scoot over.”
Xana does as she’s told, and I climb in alongside her. Turning to face each other, we close our eyes and go to sleep. We’ve done this since we were kids, sometimes just needing to know that someone who cared was nearby. Like sisters.
“We need to leave now if we’re going to meet Noel and Xana on time,” I tell him. Although he’s not facing me, I can tell he is in no hurry.
“They can wait. Probably aren’t even expecting us to be there,” his voice sounding different than normal, rougher and almost unnerving.
“Of course they are,” I argue, my hands landing on my hips. “They’re our best friends and they want us to be there with them.”
“Forget about them, baby doll. They don’t matter anymore. It’s just you and me from now on,” he says heatedly as he continues only he knows what because his back is still turned toward me.
“What the hell do you mean by that?” I shout, completely taken aback by the hateful tone overtaking his words. “Noel and Xana are like family to us, hell Xana’s family practically adopted me.”
His back stiffens at my exclamations, stopping whatever it is he’s been doing, to slowly turn toward me, a fierce scowl covering his entire face. He moves to grab my shoulders, his fingers digging into my skin hard enough to draw blood, and pulls me to his flat chest. When I tilt my head back to look at him, it’s not Cade standing in front of me, and my body becomes instantly on alert, ready to flee at a moment’s notice.
“You’re mine, baby doll,” he growls, forcing his lips against mine, and I try desperately to force him away from me, but his grip is too tight. He bites my lip hard enough to draw blood, and I begin to kick against his legs in an attempt to knock him off balance and onto the bed behind him, giving me a chance to flee his room. My kicks/strikes on his legs do no damage and he turns me around, my back now against his front. His arms surrounding me almost cut off my air supply as he squeezes me tighter.
Continuing to struggle from his hold, I’m surprised to find us beside my car in a parking lot. It must be late at night because I can only see what is illuminated by the lights scattered throughout.
“Stop fighting me and I won’t hurt you,” a second male voice warns somewhere to my left.
“Please, just let me go,” a scared high-pitched voice begs. Xana. Where did she come from?
The m
an holding me slides his hand up my shirt to grab my breast roughly and I cry out in pain.
“Stace,” someone calls my name in the distance, but my captor’s words echo in my head, “That’s my baby doll. Good girl. Such a sweet girl.”
He begins to shake me roughly and I hear my name again.
“Stace, wake the hell up. You’re scaring me.” Small taps on my cheeks bring the words more into focus and I find myself obeying commands to open my eyes.
Xana is in bed, hovering over me, with a frightened expression clouding her face. Why is she waking me up?
“What the hell, Hooker? Why are you slapping me and trying to wake me up?” I ask groggily, slowly waking.
“Oh, I don’t know, it just seemed like the best thing to do, you know, for shits and giggles,” she smarts off, glaring at me like I’ve committed a crime. “You were kicking and thrashing your arms about like an octopus on the attack! You. Almost. Broke. My nose!”
Oh, shit. My dream begins flooding my memory, my stomach trying to revolt. Bits and pieces fall into place making me realize that not only did I have yet another dream of the attack at school, but the other parts of my nightmare was more than subconscious ramblings.
“I’m sorry about the hitting and kicking,” I apologize, hoping she’ll drop the rest of her questions. “I don’t know what I was dreaming.”
She seems to be deciding whether or not to let it go as she studies my face while rubbing her nose. “Maybe,” she pauses to look me in the eyes. “You’re okay, though?”
“Yeah, I’m fine.”
“You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?” Her serious expression tells me she knows I’m not being entirely honest with her, but is choosing to let me off the hook, instead of pressing me for more details.
I shake my head in agreement, not trusting my own voice, and smile at her. Seeming to accept my response, at least for the time being, I’m sure, she slides back under the covers, mumbling, “Goodnight, Hooker.”