by J. E. Parker
Quietly—so quietly—I whispered Hendrix’s name. “Hendrix.” I needed to know he was okay.
When he didn’t answer me, I panicked. I was half a second away from beating on the door, demanding to be let in, the consequences be damned, when I heard him speak. “Yeah, Pop.”
He didn’t sound broken. Matter of fact, he didn’t sound hurt at all.
He sounded… defiant.
He sounded like the angry, hate-filled, bad-tempered boy my Daddy swore he was, and not the sweet, loving, and loyal boy I knew he was.
Oh, Hendrix.
My heart clenched in pain.
It went against everything I’d been taught, but at that moment I hated James ‘Pop’ Cole more than I’d hated anyone in my life. As horrible as it may sound, if he had dropped dead right then and there, I wouldn’t have shed a single tear. In fact, I may have even smiled.
Far as I was concerned, he was the devil.
Hearing the television turn on, followed by Pop’s laughter from inside the house, I stepped back from the door. One step, two steps, three steps, I kept moving.
Once at the edge of the porch, I turned around, jumped down and ran home as fast as I could. I didn’t want to leave Hendrix, but I knew he would come outside in a minute. No way would he stay in there with that monster.
At least, I hoped he wouldn’t.
Heck, if I had to go back over there, beat on the door, and demand that he come outside, I would. Pop didn’t scare me. If he dared to raise a hand to me, my Daddy would beat him to a pulp. And if Grandmama got her hands on him, well, may the Lord have mercy on him, because she sure wouldn’t. She’d shoot him square in the face and then go to church and pray for his soul.
She was crazy like that.
Running into my house, I slammed the door shut behind me.
Out of breath, my heart pounded. I bent over, my hands on my knees, and leaned against the wall beside me.
None of this could be real. It just couldn’t.
But it was.
I needed to do something. Needed to tell someone. I had to find a way to make it stop. But first I had to talk to Hendrix.
Only, I couldn’t talk to him like this.
You see, Hendrix hated it when I cried. Don’t ask me why but my tears always made him so angry. He was never angry with me, just at whatever happened to make me upset. The bad thing about it was, when Hendrix got angry, things sometimes turned violent.
I’ll never forget the first time I saw him hurt someone else because of me.
I’d only been living in Kissler for a few months. I didn’t know anyone other than Hendrix; I didn’t have any friends. Anyway, I’d just started the third grade when a boy named Ty Jacobs, who was a bully to everyone, stole my lunch money out of my desk. I saw him do it, even confronted him about it, but he only laughed in my face.
“Maggot Maddie doesn’t get to eat lunch today!” he’d taunted.
Too ashamed to tell the teacher, I went without lunch that day.
Hendrix was in a different class than me, but later that day at recess he found me on the playground. I was still upset, and it didn’t take him long to notice my puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks. He demanded to know what happened, and I told him. My hands shook, and my voice cracked, but I didn’t leave out a single detail as I recounted what Ty had done. I wanted Hendrix to know exactly how I’d been treated and hurt.
Wrong as it may have been, a part of me wanted vengeance. Ty had humiliated me, and I thought he should have a taste of his own medicine. After all, it was only fair that he should feel the same sting of embarrassment he’d inflicted on me and many others.
Once I was done explaining everything to Hendrix, he was pissed.
Red-faced, I watched him walk over to Ty and tap him on the shoulder. When Ty turned around, I could see Hendrix’s mouth move, but I was too far away to hear what he was saying. Ty smirked in return before crossing his arms over his chest. Hendrix jabbed his finger into Ty’s chest, but Ty only laughed before cutting his eyes to where I was standing in the middle of the playground. He sneered at me before looking back to Hendrix and muttering something. It must have been the wrong thing to say because a second later Hendrix slammed his fist into Ty’s face.
I smiled as Ty fell to the ground and blood trickled from his nose. Then, without waiting for another second, I ran up to Hendrix and wrapped my arms around him before whispering, “Thank you,” in his ear.
He only nodded in return.
The next day I got my lunch money back, and Ty never messed with me again.
That was my Hendrix. Sweet. Protective. Caring.
How the heck he had become any of those things while being raised by the devil himself was beyond me.
Going into the kitchen, I went over to the sink and turned on the faucet. Cupping my hands, I splashed handful after handful of cold water on my tear-stained skin. Finished, I grabbed a couple of paper towels from the roll beside the sink and patted my face dry.
Looking out the window, I couldn’t see Hendrix yet.
I glanced at the clock on the stove.
It was almost time for Grandmama to be home, meaning I’d have to leave shortly.
“Come on, Hendrix,” I whispered to the empty kitchen as I stood beside the window, waiting and watching.
Thank heavens I didn’t have to wait long.
Maddie
A flash of red next door caught my attention. Narrowing my eyes to see better, I spotted him right away. Grabbing the plate of warm cookies, I’d taken out of the oven an hour earlier, I scooted out the back door, and ran towards the dogwood tree that separated his backyard from mine. “Hendrix.” My voice was barely a whisper as I called out his name.
I’m surprised he even heard me.
From the fence, I watched as he stopped mid-stride and partially turned towards me. I looked him over from head to toe, but I didn’t see any injuries.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Hey, Maddie. What are you doing home? I thought you were going to church with Grandmama.”
Lord have mercy, Hendrix Cole was the cutest boy I’d ever seen.
Despite knowing what happened earlier, just seeing him made me feel giddy.
I swallowed around the lump that had formed in my throat. “I am, but I wanted to bring you something first.”
Without hesitating, Hendrix turned to face me fully. When he did, I gasped at the sight of his bruised—and was that a cut?— face.
A smile crossed his face as he moved towards me. How on earth could he smile right now? “What have you got for me, pretty girl?” His words stunned me, pulling my attention from his injured face and the nightmare that I felt myself standing in.
My cheeks heated, and I knew without a doubt I was blushing.
I loved the nickname, but it made me feel silly. I wasn’t pretty. Plain, was more like it.
Why couldn’t he see that?
Still, every time those two words left his mouth, an army of butterflies took flight in my belly.
As he came closer, those same butterflies died.
I wanted to cry. My heart hurt at the sight of his bruised and battered face.
Was it possible to feel your heart breaking?
Because I’m pretty sure I felt mine cracking.
Despite already knowing the answer, I asked, “What happened to your face?”
He shrugged like it was no big deal. “Crashed my dirt bike this morning.”
Something inside of me snapped.
I didn’t want him to lie to me, especially not when he was being hurt.
Setting the plate of cookies on top of a fence post, I closed my eyes. I couldn’t bear to look at him right now. If I did, I was certain I’d cry, and me turning into a big baby wouldn't help the situation. “Hendrix,” I whispered, reaching out and grabbing his hand. “I know you didn’t crash your dirt bike.” Silence. Complete silence. I took a breath. “I…” Crap. How was I supposed to say this? “I came over when your pop got home. I
was going to help him…”
I stopped speaking when Hendrix jerked his hand away from mine. Opening my eyes, I saw him take a step back.
No, please don’t run from me!
“I heard… I heard what h-he did to you,” I stuttered. The anger. The hurt. It all made it so hard to speak. “Why didn’t you tell m-me?”
Lips thinned into a hard line, Hendrix crossed his arms over his chest and glared at me. “What was I supposed to say, Maddie?”
His voice rang of anger. I gulped. He’d never been angry towards me before. It didn’t scare me but it… I don’t know how to describe it. I just know I didn’t like it.
“That my Pop is a drunk who beats me up whenever he feels like it?” His voice rose, and my eyes widened. “Or that he’s a hateful bastard who blames me for his wife leaving him?” He leaned forward, his face tensed. “What exactly was I supposed to tell you, huh?”
I shook my head. I didn’t know what to say. “I could have helped you.”
“Yeah, and how would you have done that?”
I dug my nails into my palms. “I could have told Daddy or Grandmama. They would have—”
He cut me off. “You can’t, Maddie. If you tell them, they’ll call the police. Then the police will call Child Protective Services. Know what will happen then?” I shook my head. I had no idea. I didn’t even know what Child Protective Services was. “CPS would take me away. Away from Pop. Away from here. Away from you.”
My heart stopped. Promise you, it stopped.
Would they take Hendrix away from me? They wouldn’t!
Would they?
Hendrix must have seen the confusion flashing in my eyes because he said, “They will, pretty girl. They’d come and take me right out of my own house. Shove me into the first foster or group home they could find, and I’d never be able to come back. At least, not until after I turn eighteen.”
No. That couldn’t…they just couldn’t do that.
It was selfish, but I couldn’t lose Hendrix. He wasn’t just my best friend.
He was my only friend.
Not to mention I also knew he was supposed to be more. Maybe not now, but later he would be.
I felt it in my heart.
I felt it in my soul.
I felt it bone deep.
Hendrix Cole would one day be mine.
“I don’t want to lose you,” I cried, losing the battle to keep my tears at bay. The tears streamed down my cheeks in hot, angry rivers. “I don’t know what I’d do…”
In one swift movement, Hendrix cleared the waist-high fence, jumping right over the top of it. Landing on his feet with a thud, he quickly turned towards me. Putting his hands on my waist, he turned me until I was facing him head-on. Then he placed his hand under my chin and lifted my face to meet his. “Doesn’t matter. You don’t even need to think about it, Maddie. I’m not going anywhere. Not now. Not ever.”
My chin trembled. I didn’t want him to go, but I didn’t want him to be stuck in that house anymore either. Not with a drunken monster who liked to use him as a punching bag. “I don’t want him h-hurting you.”
Hendrix smiled. He looked much calmer than I felt. “He won’t. Not for much longer anyway. In the next year or two, I’ll be big enough to fight back.” He clenched his hands into fists at his sides. “I’ve got a feeling that it will only take one hard punch from me and he’ll leave me alone for good.”
I sniffled. “You think so?”
Hendrix nodded. “I do, pretty girl. No reason for you to worry.”
But worry, I would. How could I not? If something happened to him…
Leaning forward, I laid my forehead on Hendrix’s chest. “I don’t like it.”
He touched my arm, running his fingertips over my sensitive elbow. “Me neither. But there’s nothing anybody can do. I either deal with him until I’m strong enough to fight back or I ask for help and lose you.” His lips brushed the top of my hair as he placed a gentle kiss on the crown of my head. “And I ain’t losing you, pretty girl.” He wrapped his free arm around my back and tugged me closer to him. “So, you can’t tell anybody about this. Got it?”
I ain’t losing you, pretty girl. Those words did funny things to my belly.
I nodded. “Yeah, I’ve got it.”
Selfish. Selfish. Selfish!
Hendrix pulled back, dropping both of his arms, disappointing the crap out of me.
“What did you bring me?” he asked, grabbing the forgotten plate from the top of the fence post where I’d placed it.
I smiled. “Take off the foil and see.” I paused, transfixed by the way his hands moved. “I was looking through some of Grandmama’s cookbooks, saw the recipe for those, and thought of you.” I watched nervously as Hendrix removed the foil I’d used to cover the plate.
His turn to smile. “Chocolate chip cookies?”
I nodded. “I know how much you love them. I thought homemade ones would be better than store-bought ones. At least, I hope they are.”
He picked one up and didn’t hesitate in taking a giant bite that only a teenage boy was capable of. He groaned, closing his eyes. I stared; pretty sure I was drooling watching his jaw and throat work together to devour the treat. Done chewing, he swallowed. “Jesus Christ, Maddie, these are the best things I’ve ever eaten.”
My heart skipped a beat. “Really?”
He nodded. “Yeah, really.” He took another bite. “Have you tasted one yet?”
I shook my head. “No. I wanted you to try them first.”
Turning the cookie so the part he’d bitten was facing me, Hendrix offered me a bite. “Here,” he said, pushing the cookie towards me, “taste it.”
Eyes locked on his, I bit the cookie. A small, barely a nibble, bite.
Hendrix’s eyes blazed, and I swear to you the world stopped spinning. My mouth was touching something that Hendrix’s mouth had touched. To my thirteen-year-old self that meant we were practically kissing.
I chewed, not tasting a thing. I could have been eating sand for all I knew.
By some miracle, I swallowed without choking. Dropping my hands, I used the hem of my dress to wipe the non-existent cookie crumbs from my fingers. Classy, I know. If my Grandmama had seen me do such a thing she would have thrown a full-fledged hissy fit and lectured me until the next full moon on the importance of ladylike manners.
Hendrix spoke. “Maddie,” he said, bringing my attention back to him. “Look at me.” I did as he said, unable to ignore his command.
Not that I wanted to.
For some reason I didn’t yet understand, his eyes looked different. Normally, they were a smoky brown color with specks of gold splattered throughout the irises, but now they seemed darker. Almost black. If possible, they were even more beautiful now than before.
I stared, completely hypnotized.
Hendrix leaned closer, and his breath dusted over my nose. I inhaled sharply at the sensation. Lifting his right hand, he placed his index finger on the corner of my lips. “You’ve got some chocolate,” he said, “right here.”
His eyes never left mine as he swiped his finger across my bottom lip.
My lungs froze, and my heart stilled.
I couldn’t breathe.
Could. Not. Breathe!
“And here.” He swiped the same finger across my top lip. Involuntarily, my lips parted. The sensation was almost too much to bear. Never in my short life had I ever experienced anything like this.
And, surprisingly, I didn’t want it to stop. Ever.
I almost cried out in frustration when Hendrix dropped his hand. But before I could, he stepped closer, bringing his chest mere inches from mine. I felt my eyes bulge in my head as he placed his hands on my waist for the second time that day. “Maddie…”
I tried to speak but couldn’t. My lips wouldn’t move, tongue wouldn’t work, and that softball lodged in the middle of my throat? It doubled in size.
Hendrix lowered his face. So. Close. Then, in a low voice that I�
�d never heard from him before, but loved, he said, “I really want to kiss you.”
Cue my heart attack.
I was sure I was dying. Or was already dead.
“Can I kiss you, pretty girl?”
Dead. Dead. Dead.
I was dead.
And obviously, this was heaven.
That or I was dreaming.
Dear Lord, please don’t let this be a dream.
Feeling my entire body shake, I nodded my head once, and Hendrix squeezed my sides where his hands rested. “Don’t move,” he said as he lowered his head.
Lightly, he pressed his lips to mine.
Head tilted to the right, and with a firm hold, he gave me my first kiss.
Hendrix Cole. My next-door neighbor. My best friend. And the cutest boy I’d ever seen.
He. Was. Kissing. Me!
The jack hammering of my heart let me know that, I wasn’t dead. Just like the pinching pain that came from the way Hendrix gripped my sides let me know I wasn’t dreaming either.
This was real. Every bit of it.
My head spun.
The world could have been ending around us, and I wouldn’t have known. Not with his lips pressed to mine and his hands on my body.
So, this is what it feels like to be kissed. No wonder the other girls at school do it so much.
But as quickly as it had begun, it ended.
Hendrix pulled his lips from mine and took a step back. But he didn’t remove his hands.
Out of breath, I looked up at him. My life had just been divided into two parts—before this kiss and after this kiss. As far as I was concerned, nothing before mattered.
Because of this… This was everything.
“That right there is worth any beating Pop will ever give me,” he said, tugging at the cotton material of my dress beneath his palms.
That wasn’t funny. Not at all.
I opened my mouth to tell him as much when I heard an all too familiar voice holler from the direction of my house.
Uh oh.
“Madelyn Grace Davis!” Grandmama shouted from the driveway. “Get away from that boy right this minute!”
