Take Me On

Haley drops beside me. “You were out. Cold. I found your cell and I was desperate to find someone who knew you to see what hospital you should go to, so I dialed the first number I found—”

“And he answered,” I cut her off. Haley must have called Rachel. My brother told me that except for a few hours here and there Isaiah’s been chained to Rachel’s bedside at the hospital. Night and day. And that he carries her phone because he discovered it in the wreckage the day after the Jaws of Life pulled her out of the car. We assumed it was broken. Who would have guessed a phone would make it when Rachel barely survived?

“West.” Haley surveys the damage to my face, my hands, my body. “I really am sorry.”

God, I’m jacked up because everything pounds like a bitch and I can only think about her beautiful dark eyes. “It’s all right.”

She grabs a bag off the ground and stands. “I’ve got to go. I’m late.”

Abby tilts her head as she assesses Haley. “You know who I am?”

Haley straightens like she’s greeting an ax murderer. “Yes.”

I’m missing entire puzzle pieces here, as in everything except for the one corner piece I hold. Nothing here is as it seems, and I hate being the odd man out.

Abby thrusts her chin in my direction. “His younger sister is my best friend. I can help you...with whatever situation this is.”

“No,” says Haley quickly. “I’m fine. Look, I’ve really got to go.” She takes a step into the darkness.

“What the hell are you two talking about?” They ignore me, and why shouldn’t they? It’s not like I could get up and force them to listen.

Abby shrugs. “If you change your mind...”

“I won’t.” Haley finally turns her attention to me. “Thanks, West. But the next time a girl tells you to do something, do it, okay?”

I’d call her nothing but attitude if it weren’t for the defeat in her tone. “Haley...”

She doesn’t wait for me to talk; instead she races down the street. Fucked. Up. Dream. I rub my eyes and consider standing.

Abby’s tennis shoes crunch against the crumbling blacktop and halt at my feet. “Your choice—home, hospital or a place to lay low until you’re ready for one of the first two options. The prize behind curtain C comes with a shower and a change of clothes.”

I dismiss my original answer of no when I notice the blood on my shirt. I can’t go home or to the hospital like this. I can’t do that to my mother.

Using the bumper of my car, I struggle up and hobble to the passenger side as I eye Abby sliding into the driver’s seat. I’m slow getting in, but I’ll be damned if I ask for help.

The interior light dims when I shut the door. Abby fastens her seat belt and wraps her fingers around the steering wheel. “I don’t have my driver’s license.”

“Can you drive?”

“Sure.”

That didn’t sound reassuring. “Just go.”

She doesn’t. “You should buy goldfish.”

“What?”

“For your car. Like build a tank in between your front and back seats. It’d be different and I like different.”

If it will get me to a shower faster... “Okay.”

She smiles. “Really?”

“Sure.”

Abby shifts the car into gear. “And, West?”

I roll my head to look at her.

“I know your mother’s secret.”





Haley

I’m late.

My feet pound rhythmically against the pavement. Is my uncle standing by the door waiting? Will he grant me mercy since it’s my first offense? I have no idea how he’ll react, and, I’ll admit, my uncle terrifies me.

I’m in shock. I know it. I’m calm. Too calm. And nothing hurts. After what happened...I round the corner and light shines through the cracks of the closed curtains, but the porch is completely dark. At night, the small vinyl house radiates an eerie white glow. My legs slow as I approach. I am so screwed.

“Pssst. Haley!” It’s a whispered shout from above. My cousin Jax leans out the attic window. His whitish-blond hair shines in the moonlight. “Through here.”

Wary of spying eyes, I cut across the neighbor’s yard and approach the side of the house through the shadows. My brother Kaden paces behind Jax. Mom must be a nervous wreck and Dad... Dad needs this medication.

Before stepping closer to the house, I peer at the living room window again. If the two of them get caught helping me, they’ll also be kicked out for the night. Because he’s seventeen and their arguments have moved from heated to toxic, Jax’s dad would possibly throw him out for good.

“Come on, girl, move,” says Jax. “It’s cold.”

“Catch!” I launch the bag up to Jax. The first indication I had been in a fight reveals itself as my biceps convulse and the bag hardly makes it two feet. I catch it and panic flickers in my bloodstream. If I can’t toss a bag, how am I climbing up?

“Again!” commands Jax.