by McLean, Jay
He pulls away before I’m ready. “You settle in first, okay?”
I nod.
“I put money in your backpack,” he says, opening his truck door.
“Papa, you didn’t have to—”
He holds up a hand, shushing me. “For school supplies, clothes, whatever you need. Okay?”
“Yes, sir.”
He turns to me again, his eyes settling on mine. Then he reaches out, holds my face in both his hands. “I’ll miss you,” he says, placing a kiss on my forehead. “Szeretlek.”
“I love you, too, Papa.”
I didn’t expect it to hurt as much as it does—watching him drive away. I don’t think it hit me until he was no longer in view. I’d been so distracted with Holden leaving and these new feelings I was experiencing with Leo, that it never occurred to me that I was going to be apart from the one person who’d been my constant.
“You’ll be okay, Mia,” Tom says, throwing an arm around me and bringing me to him. “I’ll take good care of you. I promise.” I hold back a sob, drowning in his words, because as much as I appreciate them, I wish they’d come from the woman standing in the distance, watching me fall apart.
“Thank you.” I pull back, wiping at my eyes before I face him. “Is Leo here?”
Tom shakes his head. “The older boys are at some end-of-summer party.” He looks at his watch. “They’ll be back in a couple of hours.”
“Oh.” Oh.
“I’ll bring your bags to the basement,” he says. “Are you hungry?”
“No. Is it okay if I just go for a walk? I’ve been sitting in the car a while.”
He smiles down at me. “Mia, this is your home now. You don’t need to ask permission to do anything.”
My home.
This is my home now, and I can’t wait for it to start feeling as such.
Chapter Twelve
Mia
I walk around the property for a while and end up at the lake. I don’t come here too often, because the older boys are here a lot, and most of the time, they’re not alone. The last time I was here, I caught Lucas with a girl. Their mouths were locked, their hands in places I can’t even describe without flushing.
But it’s quiet now, no one around, and I find myself smiling when the dock comes into view. Light on my feet, I walk over to the spot where Leo’s wallet had landed the first summer I was here. I’ve never asked him about the photograph, and he’s never mentioned it.
It’s a secret I’ll take to the grave.
After removing my flip-flops, I sit on the edge of the dock, let my feet dangle in the water, and I read the text from Leo, again and again. I haven’t replied, not knowing what to say, so it just sits there, in limbo, making me feel as if I’m more than I am, bolder and greater than I am—and it’s that feeling, that momentous, significant surge of hope that has me looking around, making sure I’m alone.
For the first time since I became truly aware of how others see me, creating an insecurity I can’t fight, I allow myself a moment of freedom. Getting to my feet, I strip out of my denim shorts and tee, and I run. I run the length of the dock, the hope bubbling in my chest sparking adrenaline within me. I laugh as I jump and belly-flop into the water. I don’t feel the pain. Only the glee that sweeps through me as I swim freely, the water cascading around me.
I float on my back, my eyes stinging when I make direct contact with the sun.
I am free.
I am brave.
In that moment, I’m everything my grandpa wants me to be.
If Holden were here, he’d be laughing with me, clapping and encouraging me. I can hear it—his voice—and I can picture him on the dock with his hands cupped around his mouth as he shouts, “Yeah, Mia Mac. You bad bitch!” I laugh harder. And then I stop. Because he isn’t here, and soon enough, he won’t be anywhere.
I don’t know how long I spend in the water, lost in my own thoughts, in the memories of my best friend.
It wasn’t just that tire swing we’d carved our names into. If you walked around town long enough, you’d see the words Holden + Mia written on almost every surface. He once told me he did it so we could leave a trail of our past and the legacy of our existence in that town. If you looked hard enough, you’d find other names, too, faded in time. Joseph + Tammy.
My dad, his mom.
I wonder if my time with the Prestons would leave anything behind, or if, once gone, I’d simply fade away. It seems such a shame that this place could hold so many memories for me, mainly of the time I spend with Leo, and yet, there would be nothing to show that
Mia
Was
Here.
With that thought in mind, I dip under the water and brush my hand along the bottom, keeping my eyes open as I search for a rock. Something small and sharp. When I find one, I resurface, noting the sun beginning to set. I wade over to the dock and duck beneath it. I’ll mark my place. Right here. Where I discovered my courage and took an oath to honor my grandpa. I etch in the strokes, one by one. M followed by I followed by A. And then I take that courage a step further, mix it with hope, and put the rock to the worn wood. I scratch + L and get to the first stroke of the E when I hear a car heading toward me. I freeze, listen.
I’ve spent so long carving in the letters that the sun has almost set. At first, I think it’s Mr. Preston looking for me. But one door slams, and then another, and I hear voices, male ones.
“That party sucked.” It’s Lucas.
And then his best friend, Garray. “All the parties here are beginning to suck.”
The wood above my head rattles when they step onto the dock. I cover my mouth, not wanting to make a sound. I don’t want them to know I’m there.
I try not to move, and close my eyes, wishing they’d leave.
From the footsteps and shadows, I work out that there are three bodies on the dock. It takes a minute for the fourth to join them. They’re all here. Lucas, Garray, Logan, and Leo.
My clothes are still on the dock. If they see them, they’ll figure it out. They’ll call for me, and I’ll have to reveal myself. In my underwear. I would die a thousand deaths.
I pray to God, an actual prayer; please, please, please leave.
My heart races, pulsing in my eardrums.
Thump, thump.
Thump, thump.
“I can’t believe the summer’s almost over,” Lucas says, and Logan speaks up.
“I fucking hate school. I can’t wait to quit.”
“As if Dad’s going to let you quit,” Lucas scoffs.
“He will. We already talked about it. When I turn sixteen, I can work for him, and all I have to do is get my GED.”
“Think Dad will let me do the same?” Hearing Leo’s voice for the first time, in person, in almost a month, makes the thumping in my ears dissipate. Just for a second. I open my eyes, try to peek through the gaps, but I can’t see much beyond the darkness.
“Nah,” Lucas says. “You actually got brains, unlike this dumbass.” A slap sounds through the air, and Logan yelps.
“Fuck off.” Above me, the wooden planks thunder as footsteps run across the dock, back and forth. I assume Logan’s chasing Lucas.
And then it’s quiet, just for a moment, and I try to settle my heavy breathing.
“Did you have fun at the party?” It’s Garray talking, and there’s only one person he could be speaking to.
Leo responds, “It was okay.”
“I saw you walking out with that girl—Luna, right?”
If it were possible to hear a heart dropping, a stomach twisting, it would’ve broken through the sound of Leo’s silence.
“She’s what? A senior this year?” Garray laughed out. “Jesus, man. You’re not even a freshman, and you’re already catching the older chicks.”
Logan and Lucas give up on their fight and join the conversation. “Leo’s gonna have a field day in high school,” Lucas says. “Girls love that whole quiet, broody thing he’s got going for him.”
>
Leo doesn’t respond.
It’s Logan who does. “It’s sure a step up from that fat-ass, Mia.”
Laughter erupts.
And I feel the first streak of liquid heartache leave me.
Lucas says, “I mean, she was nothing to look at when she first got here, but every year she just gets worse and worse.”
“Her braces aren’t doing her any favors,” Logan says through a chuckle.
“And her acne…” Garray this time.
“Oh my god! It’s so bad,” Logan laughs out.
Then Lucas: “And poor Leo. Dad’s put it on him to watch over her at school.”
Another round of laughter.
“I take it back,” Lucas adds. “He’s gonna have a shitty time with the girls with fat-ass, brace face around, hanging on to him everywhere he goes.”
“And also—fuck her for taking the basement,” Logan snaps. “I wanted that.”
Leo says nothing.
Does nothing.
Logan continues, “It’s not my fucking fault that she has no home. Or that her parents don’t want her.”
Leo’s silence is deafening.
“Yeah,” says Lucas. “It’s bad enough Vagina’s around, but at least she’s not there at night. How are we supposed to be comfortable in our own house with her there?”
“It’s okay, Leo.” Logan busts out a laugh. “She won’t be able to sneak into your room at night. We’d all hear that fat heifer coming up the stairs.” The dock shakes with every one of his thumping steps, mocking me. Loose pieces of the wood crack, splinter, rain down on me. And all I can do is grip onto the post, letting the tears fall, the force of my withheld sobs making it impossible to breathe.
Just breathe.
After the hysterics settle, Lucas says, “Let’s go. I’m fucking starving. Hopefully, heifer’s mom made something decent.”
I release a shallow breath, try to compose myself as their footsteps fade.
I want to die.
If I had the will to drown myself, I would do it.
I wait until the car doors slam shut, until the engine starts, and I can no longer hear it to chance a peek around the dock and make sure the taillights are gone. When I’m positive I’m alone again, I struggle to lift myself onto the dock, my muscles weak, cold from being in the water so long. I start toward my discarded clothes, a sob escaping when I hear the thud thud thud beneath my feet.
“Mia?”
Every inch of me locks up, suspended in pain.
It’s Leo. Using my arms, I cover as much of myself as possible, not wanting to turn to him, and search for my clothes in the semi-darkness.
“Mia?” His voice is louder now, closer, and I want to turn to him, ask him why now? Why find his voice now?!
“How long have you been—”
“Where are my clothes?” I seethe, my vision too clouded with tears to see straight. I’m shivering, my teeth clattering as I walk away from him.
“Whoa, hang on.” His hands are on my shoulders, and I shrug them off. They feel dirty on my flesh, contaminated with the words of hate and disgust spat like venom from his own blood. “What the hell are you—”
I walk the length of the dock, my eyes frantic, my heart the same. “Where are they?”
“I don’t—”
I turn, shielding my disgusting body from him. Leo’s eyes—so dark, so twisted—land on my bare skin, at the parts of me I want to strip from my bones.
“Don’t look at me!” I scream, cringing when my words echo around us. I try to calm down. I can’t. “Where the fuck are my clothes?”
Leo’s eyes widen at my curse, and he takes a step back, his hands falling to his sides. “I think Luke brought them back. He thought—”
A sob retches through my entire body.
“Here,” Leo says, removing his hoodie and passing it to me.
In one swift move, I shrug it on, but it does nothing to cover my fear, my shame, my ugliness.
He huffs out a breath. “Mia, I—”
“Shut up,” I rush out, my voice quiet. I hate that he’s here, that he’s witnessing my downfall. I look around, my mind too numb to think straight. “Which way is the house?” He chews his bottom lip before reaching for my hand. I pull back, bile caught in my throat. “Please, don’t touch me.”
His fists ball. “I’ll walk you back.”
His hoodie goes down to my knees, the sleeves way past where my arms end, and I use it to wipe away the evidence of my pain. “Just point to it,” I grind out. And through the ache in my heart and destruction in my soul, I tell him, “I don’t want you near me.”
For a moment, I swear he feels what I feel. He sees, inside me, that I’m fading. As if the light within me is dimming. And he’s the one at the switch.
I should never have let him control me.
He lifts his hand, points east, and I push past him, my knees weak as I walk barefoot toward the house. He’s with me the entire time, one step behind, and I hate his presence.
But not nearly as much as I hate myself.
When the house comes into view, I don’t know where to go. My mom would be in the apartment, and I don’t… I don’t even live there anymore. I live in the main house, in the basement, where Logan wants to be.
I can’t go in there. I can’t stomach having to face any of them.
And Lucas—he took my clothes. My phone was in the pocket of my shorts.
Panic swirls, biting at my organs, and I wish there were a way to get rid of it all.
I stop in my tracks and turn to Leo. Surprised by my sudden movement, he knocks into me and grabs my elbows to stop me from falling. “My phone was in my pocket,” I tell him. “You need to go inside and get it.”
He wipes at his eyes, and I realize now that he might have been crying, too.
While my cries are loud, uncontrolled; his are silent.
Just like him.
“You live here, Mia. You can get—”
“Please,” I beg.
He nods, hands in his pockets as he slowly makes his way inside the house. I hide in the shadows, in the darkness of my thoughts.
He returns a moment later, my phone in his hand. After taking it from him, I grab my bike from under the apartment stairs. Still barefoot, in only my wet underwear and his hoodie, I ride past him, the bike wobbling beneath me. “Don’t follow me,” I tell him, proud of the feigned strength that comes with my order.
I don’t know where I’m going or what I’m doing. I just need to go.
Once off the property, the roads open up, and I pedal, taking corner after corner, with no destination in mind. I find myself at the steps of the church, praying for a way out of my head, out of my darkness.
I can leave, I think to myself, wiping at the tears that don’t seem to quit. There’s nothing for me here. There’s nothing for me anywhere. I can leave this town
… I can leave this life.
My name is scrawled on surfaces where I’ve been, but my time on this earth will leave nothing behind.
I can go to the tower, my once happy place, but now it’s scarred with memories of false hope and forgotten promises.
I can jump from the top.
I won’t even feel it.
And no one will miss me.
This fat-ass, brace face heifer.
No one will care.
Holden will be sad, but he’ll get over it.
And Papa…
I release a loud sob, my hand to my chest to try to heal the pain.
Papa will be ruined. All his hopes. All his dreams. All the things he wished for me…
I can’t leave him behind.
But I can’t go back to him, either.
I can’t disappoint him.
I suck in a breath, let it out slowly, slowly, and then I repeat the actions, over and over, all thoughts on my grandpa, until I find the calm, the courage to pick up my phone and go through the contacts. I press dial before I can think twice and hold the phone to my ear.
>
A stranger answers.
I swallow my pride. “Dad?”
Part Two
Chapter Thirteen
Leo
My eyes are playing tricks on me. They must be. Because I’ve seen nothing but green for the past half-hour. I blink hard and check the map on my phone again. I’ve been driving for almost three hours, and I’m still fifteen minutes away from my destination.
Dad was the one to offer me an out.
An escape from reality.
I’m not sure how spending the summer before junior year helping some old man fix up his house is going to help, but here I am.
“It’ll get you away from all of this,” he’d said. “All of this” was the aftermath of Laney, my best friend, almost dying at the hands of her ex-boyfriend, a guy who decided to unload numerous bullets into her. And Lucas, my older brother, Laney’s now boyfriend, being too fucking thick in the head to realize it was happening.
I was angry and not the type of anger that my dad was used to. It wasn’t the type that brewed and brewed, like a fucking pressure cooker with no valve. I wasn’t going to just explode one day, and then it’d all be over. No, this anger was constant, never-ending.
And I was terrified of it.
I was scared of how I was feeling, of how little control I had over it. And I was scared for my family because they were scared of me.
So, I did what I always do.
I checked out.
Locked myself away.
Barely left my room.
Barely ate.
Barely spoke.
Until Dad came to me with this proposal. “I know it’s tough, having to be here with Lucas and Laney.” Dad and Logan thought I was in love with Laney. I wasn’t. They assumed I was jealous of Luke. That was far from the fucking truth. But the truth would be too hard for them to hear, so I let them believe whatever they wanted. Sometimes, I even encouraged it.
“I don’t want you to think that I’m sending you away,” Dad had said.
“I don’t,” I’d replied, my voice scratchy from lack of use.
“I just think it’ll be good for you. You’ll have some space to clear your thoughts and something to keep your mind busy.”
