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Chapter 24

Charlotte O'Brien

I woke up terrified, my heart pounding and a rushing filling my ears. Ric's lips were covering mine again, choking off my airways. I could smell the hamburger he ate at the art studio, taste the pungent sourness of the pickles still on his breath, and hear his heavy breathing filling my ears as my thoughts went silent. The moment was a memory, a haunting nightmare, and I woke up biting my tongue to hold off a scream. Your fault, your fault, ran around my mind like the chorus from a terribly catchy song.

I pulled the coverlet over my face, burying my nose in the soft fabric in an attempt to banish the lingering memory of the odor of pickles. I didn't want to think about Ric or the misplaced kiss. I didn't want to think about the texts that kept flooding into my phone, texts filled with apologies, accusations, and groveling, and texts that I was forced to listen to with a straight face in front of my parents, teachers, and Tyler. I hadn't told anyone about what happened, even though I was half-tempted to mention it to Braylynn. But every time I even considered telling someone, guilt and shame rolled over me, and I felt like I needed to take a long and luxurious shower. So this secret was stacked up, next to Tyler, in my own private collection of confidences that I held close to my heart, far away from the judgement of others.

My thoughts were interrupted by my door banging open and a thud, like someone jumping. I flinched away, my hands shaking and my mind going blank. Tyler leapt into action, running from his corner to stand by my bedside, his energy nearly quivering with excitement. After our walk on Thursday, I had pretty much become a turtle, moving from one room to the other, but never leaving the house except for school. I knew that it must have been terribly boring for the Georgia boy that came from God's country, where the trees dance in the summer and form natural tunnels.

"Leptodirus Beetle!" My dad said loudly, too loudly, and enveloped me in a hug, his strong arms pulling me into a sitting position, He smelled like toothpaste and coffee beans, like mint and vanilla creamer. These were smells of my childhood, of mornings before school, when I'd insist on hugging my father because it'd give me strength to get through the day. I felt traitorous tears fill my eyes as all the stresses of the week seemed to fall into the background as I sat there and let my father hug me.

I hadn't been able to face my father all week, fearing his disappointment about my obvious failures, but I had been going about it all wrong. My life was still falling apart around me, my friends abandoning me or forcing me into terrible situations, and I had pushed away who I needed the most. I missed him. My fault, my fault.

Tyler retreated back to his corner, probably to give us this moment, and I appreciated that. My dad stroked my hair in its sloppy ponytail. "Your mom is doing some information session at the university today, something with a bunch of hormonal teenagers that I don't envy in the least, and I decided that we're going to spend the day together because this week has been bad for everyone from the milk man to that bird outside the window." His voice was soft, soft and understanding. My dad had been waiting for me to come to him, knowing that I needed him but also that I needed to ask for it myself. When I hadn't taken that leap, he'd taken it himself, jumping that massive chasm and slamming my door open in the process.

"So come on, Madagascar Blind Snake! We are going to the wharf where I am going to take your cane and time how long it takes for you to walk into the ocean." He slapped the bed beside me with a resounding thump and stood quickly, his weight disappearing. "You better be ready in twenty minutes, or I will have to punish you by making you listen to my news radio instead of that horrible garbage that Ric seems to think is music!" His tone was confident, happy, and easy-going, like that would make me zip out of my bed faster than a mouse's heartbeat, but the very mention of Ric's name turned my blood cold and froze me in my place. The memory of the nightmare, a memory of a memory, filled me, and I fought to keep my breathing steady as my dad left my room, and Tyler followed discretely after him. Tyler never stayed in the room when I dressed, and that made me grateful. I mean, I couldn't see anything, but that didn't mean he couldn't.