The best I could hope for, until Portia came home for the summer, was to stay numb. I'd successfully managed to plan our phone calls around going to Carson's house, but she knew something was wrong. I tried to convince her it was just me missing her, although I was fairly certain Hensley told her about the book and my subsequent meltdown. Then, all manner of hell had broken loose last night when I'd given Hensley and Ernie my report card.It was a good thing I hadn't planned to attend Columbia or Carnegie. After my fourth quarter grades, the offers probably would have been rescinded. I didn't give a shit. If I hadn't had straight As going into exams, it would have been far worse. As it was, I ended up with Bs, Cs, and an F for the quarter, which didn't affect my overall GPA enough for the University of Maine to care. It did, however, send the Shaws into a tailspin. Hensley threw out the word suicidal-laughing at her probably wasn't the best response. My "indifference concerned them,"
I'd lain in bed with the lights off for hours last night, waiting for him to come home. There hadn't been any point in trying to close my swollen eyes, sleep wouldn't have taken over, anyhow. Not until I knew he was safe. While I stared at the ceiling, my eyes drifted out the window. It never ceased to amaze me that no matter how much turmoil took place on Earth, the moon and the stars didn't lose their luster. They shone just as bright, and they hung safely in the sky where they'd been for ages, unaffected by any raging storm below. If I could have found a way to reach one of them, I would have. It was funny in a non-comical sort of way, ironic, maybe-until I heard Jude close the front door and pad up the steps. I worried I'd been too quick to pass judgment. I wouldn't have been able to live with myself if I'd left him, knowing full well he was too high to drive, and something had happened. Yet, the sounds of his shoes taking the steps two or three at a time suddenly catapulted me
Sometimes I wondered if it were possible for me to keep my mouth shut. "Why not?" I posed the question softly, more out of curiosity than accusation. "Truthfully? I don't know. Best guess is...I didn't want them to. I wanted to be angry. I felt justified in it. That one feeling hadn't failed me when my mom was sick or when she died. Every other one had." He lifted his shoulders slightly and then allowed them to fall. "Then spring break happened."I smiled. I couldn't have stopped the toothy grin even if I'd wanted to, which I didn't. I'd never regret anything about that week. He huffed through his nose, and his eyes lost focus. It was clear he was reminiscing and maybe even wishing he could go back to that place in time. "It was as though God answered a prayer and gave me a blessing all at once. Other than my mom, you are the only thing in the world that makes me truly happy...core deep."That was a heavy burden to carry, and one I wasn't equipped to hold. "Jude...""When y
I retreated to the security of my bedroom. It was eerily quiet. Jude had turned the music off or put on headphones, and I hadn't so much as heard footsteps outside my door. There had been no sign of Ernie or Hensley, either. It was as though I were the only one in the house.Curled into a ball on my bed, I picked at Woobie's knotted fur, keeping the little bear close to my face. He reminded me of Jude, and if I closed my eyes and tried hard enough, I could smell Jude's scent on him. Or maybe that was my mind's way of comforting me through the most excruciating pain I ever remembered experiencing. When my mom died and I was in protective services-before I'd been placed with the Shaws-a counselor told me that with each day that passed, the hurt would subside a little more. Even as scared as I had been, I just never missed a mother who hadn't really existed. But the fear had done the same thing the lady said the pain would do. And I got to where I longed for the sun to come up just t
For the life of me, I couldn't recall what I'd said to Ernie after Portia left my room that day. From the moment she told me to find myself, until the time I walked into Dr. Vanderhugh's office, there were only fractions of time I could clearly visualize. The same thing that had happened when I found the Beatles tribute book in Hensley's room happened again when Portia gave up on me. Only this time, I didn't have anywhere I could run.The walls had closed in as the darkness narrowed my field of vision. My chest constricted, my heart raced, and I had kept it hidden so Portia wouldn't see how truly broken I was. The slamming door sparked impending doom, and I was certain my death was imminent. Ernie's panic-stricken face was crystal clear when I got downstairs, yet how I had arrived there was a mystery. Once I had gotten out of the house, the possibility of death by suffocation waned. It might have been something Ernie had said, it could have been escaping the torture chamber, or possi
California was an adjustment. I'd only been there a few days, but the heat was a killer, and the people were different. Not in a bad way. Actually, I loved how liberal Berkeley seemed as a whole. Ethan and Carson both found menial jobs near the campus, which was within walking distance of the apartment, so I spent most of my days alone. I had met with Dr. Sarratt twice since I'd gotten here. He encouraged me to get out and walk around, see everything I could find that held any interest, and start writing. I wasn't certain I bought into the belief he had about journaling, but I committed to giving this my all. That meant playing by the rules. And I hadn't set the rules in this game.I tried to treat my notations about my excursions like a documentary on paper. When I viewed it as an exercise in evaluating my surroundings instead of my feelings, the words covered the pages. If I tried to analyze the ink on the page-zilch. It only took a couple of days before that notebook became my
"If you're so bored, why don't you get a job? I know you don't have to have the money, but it would give you something to do." Ethan had found the first semblance of a social life-Carson had, too, for that matter-when he'd become gainfully employed. I'd always heard that life after high school was totally different, and that my social status prior to college was meaningless after my senior year. I'd just found that hard to believe when the same kids who held the spotlight in high school then went on to the colleges we attended after. Yet somehow, it was true. The clicks faded, and people were generally more accepting. I wasn't experiencing it myself, but both Carson and Ethan had quickly found friends here. And Carson and Cat had even gone out on a couple of dates. He kept the details a closely guarded secret. Any minute now, he believed she'd start laughing at him with her friends, and he'd find out it had all been a big joke at his expense.I had met her once when they stopped
"What the hell are you doing?" I snatched my journal from the hands of a nosy co-worker.She shrugged and contorted her face into an expression of equal indifference. "Just wondering what you spend so much time working on."I tucked the notebook into my backpack and slammed the locker. When I turned around, Lacy wore the same unbothered look. "So, you went through my locker, dug it out, and just thought you'd have a look around my private thoughts?"Lacy pulled out a chair from the table and placed herself in it with more fanfare than called for. "We work in a bookstore. Do you know how many people here are writing the next great American novel?" She paused, waiting for my answer. When she didn't get one, she popped a grape into her mouth and continued. "All of them. Including the ones who run the place." "And how does that justify breaking and entering?" I didn't have a clue what she'd read, or how deep into my thoughts she had been able to dig. My heart lay fully exposed on