His warm lips met mine and I felt my eyes close, like his mouth against mine was a shutter to my sight. It was a little awkward, neither of us knowing what to do. But it also felt nice.
Our lips stayed closed as we tentatively started moving our mouths, just a few gentle passes until we both pulled away a couple seconds later. I opened my eyes to find him staring at my mouth in awe.
“Happy birthday, Sherry,” he whispered, still looking at my lips.
Yes. It is…
14 years old
It was moving day.
My parents still hadn’t told me where we were going, only that it was close. I didn’t ask any questions, because that was all the peace of mind I’d needed. I’d meant what I said to Sherry a week ago—I’d cut through as many neighborhoods as I had to to see her.
I knew she always worried, but this year had been going surprisingly well. Sherry and I would be starting high school in a couple months, finally attending the same school. I’d decided to join a photography club that would meet after classes let out, which would give me an excuse to avoid going home. His hits and kicks had decreased significantly, and I was certain part of his “good” mood was because he was making more money; whatever the reason, I wasn’t going to complain.
Now, there was always plenty of food in the apartment, and one day when my dad was feeling extra generous he even asked me if there was anything I needed before he went to the store. Between the move and his “jolly” attitude, things were looking up.
I was still zoning out when we pulled up to a nice house in a nice neighborhood… a nice, familiar neighborhood. Shooting up from my slouched position in the backseat, my eyes flew from the house with the sold sign in front of it to Sherry’s house… right next door.
“This is our new place?” My voice squeaked, still adjusting to puberty, before I cleared my throat and waited for the answer.
“Yes.” My mother gave me a dismissive glance before unbuckling her seat belt and exiting the car. While my dad had gotten “better,” my mother’s attitude had grown colder. As if pretending I didn’t exist made the abuse less real. Whatever. I was officially done giving a shit about her. Sherry and her parents more than made up for the crap hand I got dealt.
And now I was even closer to them. To her. Unconsciously, my fingers traced my lips. If I closed my eyes I could still feel her mouth against mine. I hadn’t planned on kissing her. But the second our lips met, it was easily the best decision I’d ever made.
“Hey!” My father’s voice pulled me out of the memory. “Get out. We got a lot of work to do.” He nodded to the house as my mom started walking toward it.
“Can I go meet the neighbors?” I asked as I climbed out of the car. I knew they wouldn’t really care what I did, but I didn’t want my dad to think there was a special reason I was going over there. I didn’t want him knowing I had someone important like Sherry in my life. My dad just waved me away and continued to the house.
I walked slowly, like I didn’t care, like I didn’t want to break into a sprint to tell her the good news.
After knocking on her door, I stepped back and waited. My palms felt sweaty as I shoved my hands in my front pockets and rocked on my feet.
The door opened and a startled Mrs. Hughes asked, “Hunter?”
Looking over toward our new yard, I confirmed my parents were gone before I warmly greeted Sherry’s mom.
“Hi, Mrs. Hughes,” I said, stepping forward for a hug.
She tsked as she returned it. “Will I ever get you to call me Liz?”
“No, ma’am.”
We were both smiling when we pulled away. I looked over her shoulder to see Sherry’s dad walking toward us.
“Hunter,” he said with a smile. “How are you, kid? Get on in here.”
“I’m good,” I replied as they backed up to let me in.
I met both her parents on that horrible Thanksgiving a year and a half ago. Sherry had brought me out after everyone else had gone home, and I was surprised by how accepting they’d been.
Despite Sherry’s attempt to convince them that my injuries had been an accident, I was positive they didn’t believe her. Sometimes it seemed like maybe they did, but other times they’d look at me like they were assessing my well-being. Checking my arms for marks, checking my gait for a limp.
Luckily, there hadn’t been an “accident” that bad since. My dad’s “business” was looking up, meaning he was home less often and when he was home, he was in a happier mood. And when he was in a happy mood, he ignored me.
But her parents still checked for signs. I remembered one time a couple months ago, Sherry’s father had pulled me aside as I was leaving.
“Hunter,” he said while I shrugged on my jacket. It was a chilly evening at the end of February; the snow was light and I was looking forward to the walk. My parents were out of town for the weekend and I didn’t have to worry about racing home or sneaking back into the apartment. There were no fresh cuts or fading bruises; my father hadn’t laid a hand on me in months.
“Yeah?”
“You know you can come to me… with anything, right?”
“What do you mean?” I asked slowly.
He gave me a patient look before speaking again. “When we first met you, Sherry told us you were injured playing football.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Sherry’s not one to lie, so we had no reason to not believe her. But we’ve also seen the way she looks at you. You’re her best friend and I think she’d lie if she thought it would protect you.”
My heart started pounding faster at his words, a weird combination of fear and joy. Maybe her parents suspected, but there’d be no way for them to prove that my father was abusive. Maybe when I was younger; now, like I had told Sherry, I was getting too big. I wasn’t strong by any means, but I was tall and could hold my own, especially if he was drunk and wobbly.
So despite the slight tinge of fear, most of what I felt was joy. Sherry was my best friend, but there was still a lot about each other we didn’t know. I didn’t know how she acted with other people; I didn’t know how many other friends she had. But hearing him confirm that how I felt about her was the same way she felt about me was comforting in a way I wasn’t expecting.
It was also nice that her parents cared so much. My mother had been in the damn room as it happened and couldn’t muster up a single word in my defense, yet more than a year later, Sherry’s parents still thought about it.
“Sir—”
Her father cut me off. “Please don’t lie to me.”
I wanted to tell him the truth—I really did. But I couldn’t. Maybe it was stupid, but I couldn’t justify it when I only had four more years and the hits were happening less and less. It didn’t seem like a good idea. I was afraid if I reported him and he found out, maybe he would start beating me again… only worse this time. And I didn’t have much proof anymore…
But the main reason was Sherry. I wasn’t lying when I told her I couldn’t lose her. And even though it wasn’t guaranteed, it wasn’t a risk I was willing to take.
Shaking my head, I looked outside at the pure white snow falling from the clear sky. “There’s nothing going on, sir. I promise.”
He waited until I looked back at him to give me a sad, knowing smile before nodding. “I’ll still keep an eye out for you, Hunter, and just remember you can always come to me if you ever change your mind.”
We hadn’t had another conversation about it. Sherry’s parents accepted me into their lives, and treated me with the kind of love and respect I’d never had before.
“I thought you were moving today,” her mother said, her eyebrows bunched.
Although a part of me was nervous that my father was this close to Sherry, despite his recent good mood, a large part of me was just excited. An excitement I couldn’t contain when I announced, “We’re your new neighbors.”
“What?” Mrs. Hughes breathed out, clearly shocked. From everything Sherry and I had
ever told her, my family was dirt-poor. And it wasn’t until I’d heard the whisperings about us moving that I began to really notice how our finances had changed. We weren’t dirt-poor anymore; hell, we weren’t even considered poor. We were well-off.
“Yeah, I guess my dad’s had some good luck lately.” I shrugged. I didn’t want to think about the negative—like what he was doing for that money. I only wanted to focus on the positive.
Mrs. Hughes nodded with understanding. “Why don’t you head on up? Tell her the good news. She’s in her room.”
“Thanks, ma’am.” They were both laughing as I disappeared up the stairs. Last year Sherry moved from the room on the bottom level, where I had been able to crawl through her window, to a bedroom upstairs when her parents decided to convert her old room into a guest bedroom for her grandparents, one of whom was in a wheelchair.
When I reached her door it was halfway open and I could see her lying on her stomach across her bed. Her toned, tanned legs were bent and she was moving them up and down to the beat of her music.
I could see Sherry’s reflection in the mirror. Her lips were tipped up into a soft smile as she flipped a page of her magazine. I missed seeing her this way… content.
Over the years, she’d slowly started to change. When I’d first met her, she was filled with so much excitement. She loved showing me her things and expressing her joy; but it seemed to make her sad that I could never return it. I think she felt guilty, and eventually she showed me less and less. That broke my heart more than she would ever know. It broke my heart more than my parents ever had.
Yeah, I would love for my parents to care that much and get me all the things my classmates were getting. But I also knew how lucky I was to have a best friend like Sherry. Some people had all the money and support in the world, but they didn’t have a Sherry. And that was a damn shame.
A best friend whom I sometimes thought I was destroying. Her light seemed dull, ever since that Thanksgiving where she’d seen more than I’d wanted her to, but I’d had nowhere else to go. I was selfish; I couldn’t walk away from her because I needed her too much.
I risked her light to combat my darkness.
Shaking my head, I pushed the door open and her eyes casually shifted toward the mirror. The second she realized someone was standing there she screamed and whipped around.
“AHH! Hunter! What the hell?” Sherry’s hand was over her heart as she scooted to the edge of her bed. “You scared the hell out of me.”
“I know, but you can’t be mad at me. I have a really important question to ask you.”
She looked suspicious as she crossed her arms over her chest, pushing her boobs up slightly. “What is it?”
“You know how your neighbors sold their house?” I asked, taking a seat next to her. Sherry immediately dropped her arms and swiveled my way.
“Yeah?” Her voice was laced with confusion.
“It’s a similar layout to this one, yes?”
“I think so…”
“Well I was wondering… which room do you think I should take? I mean obviously I won’t take the one next to my parents. But the real question is, do I want the one upstairs that’s directly across from your window? Or do I want to be on a completely different floor from them and take the one on the bottom?”
As I continued, I watched her expression betray the many emotions she was experiencing: wariness, confusion, disbelief, hopefulness, until she finally landed on ecstatic.
“Are you serious?”
I wanted to keep messing with her, but her complete and utter joy had me smiling wider and nodding. She squealed and threw her arms around me, both of us falling back on her bed as we laughed.
For the first time in my life, I was grateful for something my parents did.
“Let’s go to Stevie’s.” Sherry was bouncing on the bed, unable to contain her excitement. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t thrill me that she was so pleased by the move.
“Okay. But I’ll have to go make up a story for my parents. I don’t want them coming over here for any reason.”
“Sounds good.” She looked down at herself and frowned. “Why don’t you go tell them while I change?”
My lips turned down with hers. “Why? You look perfect.”
Sherry’s cheeks turned pink. I was grinning when I got up and headed for her door. “I’ll be back in about ten?”
She nodded. I caught the start of a smile before I turned around and walked toward the stairs. I was moving slow, thinking about how happy I was, when her mom’s voice stopped me at the bottom of the stairs.
“I’m glad Sherry has him.”
“Me too,” her dad answered. I could imagine him grabbing her hand and bringing it up to his lips for a kiss.
“She hasn’t been the same since Bobby.”
“None of us have.”
My chest ached at the sadness in their voices. It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t—
“Maybe Hunter is our second chance,” her mom said.
I froze, all except the immediate tears that sprung up in my eyes. Those six words were filled with more love than I’d ever gotten from my parents.
“When I imagine what Bobby would be like…” She trailed off, clearing her throat, before she continued. “I imagine someone like Hunter. Is that weird?”
“Not at all.” He took a deep breath. “Nothing will ever take away the pain of losing Bobby. But I think you’re right. Hunter was brought into our lives for a reason. Not just for Sherry. For you and me, too. That boy was lost, perhaps he still is a little. Just like we were lost after Bobby died. Maybe we were brought into each other’s lives to fill that void. Hunter has certainly helped us—”
“Without a doubt,” Sherry’s mother interrupted.
“And I’d like to think we’ve helped him just as much these last two years.” Silent tears were streaming down my face as I felt a hand land on my shoulder. I jumped, but managed to stay quiet. Sherry was standing there, her face showing evidence of crying. She had obviously heard enough of the conversation. Our eyes stayed locked as their discussion continued.
“We taught him all the things we didn’t get to show our son.” His chair scraped, like he was moving closer to her. “Maybe we weren’t meant to see Bobby drive a car or go on his first date or graduate high school—” He abruptly cut himself off when the emotions became too much. Sherry’s mom was quietly crying too. Sherry reached out and tightly gripped my hand; her actions and their words were too much. I didn’t know love like this could exist.
“We were meant to give Hunter pie and spend Christmas morning watching him teach Sherry how to skateboard,” her mom whispered, her tone moving from somber to hopeful.
“Don’t you mean teaching her the most effective way to brace her fall?”
They both laughed, and my smile followed Sherry’s. I was sure we were all remembering her less than graceful attempts at skateboarding.
We didn’t end up going to Stevie’s. Instead we sat on the stairs, eyes locked and hands entwined, listening to her parents talk. Bobby, Sherry, and I were still the main points of conversation. They alternated between laughing and crying, but somehow the atmosphere always felt hopeful.
“They were right, ya know,” Sherry whispered.
“About what?” I squeezed her hand.
Her smile was warm and genuine. “You’re our second chance.”
15 years old
SHERRY SOFTLY SHUT THE door behind her. I quietly chuckled at how cute she looked all bundled up. It was mid-September at ten o’clock at night, the temperature hovering in the mid-sixties, but she was dressed like it was much colder. She never loved the winter months—she was definitely a summer girl.
The humidity was finally dropping and the temperature was lowering, and even though we probably wouldn’t be able to go there much until spring, I wanted to show Sherry what I’d found.
“Psst…” I called out into the darkness once she made her way to the middle of the yard.<
br />
“Hunter?” Sherry whispered, her long, wavy hair twirling around as she searched for me.
I threw a rock in another direction, misleading her. Her head whipped toward the sound, providing me with the perfect opportunity to sneak up behind her. I moved quick since there was no way to keep my feet silent on the crunch of the gravel.
“Boo!” I whispered in her ear when I came up behind her and wrapped my arms around her waist. I basked in the wonderful feeling of her soft, warm body snuggled against me. It was absolutely perfect. But that only lasted two seconds. In a flash, I was on my back, holding my midsection in an effort to dull the throb that Sherry’s elbow had caused. My foot was equally sore from the heel of Sherry’s shoe that she had just rammed into me.
“Jesus, Sher bear.”
“Oh my God!” she exclaimed as she knelt beside me. “Ohmygod, ohmygod… I’m so sorry, Hunter. I didn’t… oh God, I hit you. I kicked you. I—”
“Sherry,” I forcibly interrupted. Her wild, distraught eyes flew to mine. “It was an accident. I’m fine. Calm down.”
“Don’t tell me to calm down,” she hissed, louder than she intended if her peek toward her house was any indication. “I’m so sorry. I—”
“Don’t,” I said harshly, uncaring that it was loud in the silent night. Sitting up, I wrapped my arms around her, this time from the front, and got a welcomed hug in return.
“Sherry,” I whispered in her hair. “You didn’t hurt me. You never could.” I inflected my tone with a fair amount of teasing to lessen her anxiety.
I felt her scoff against the side of my head before she pulled back and looked me dead in the eye. “Please. My dad has started teaching me how to defend myself. It hurt. I totally kicked your ass. Why the hell did you sneak up on me?”
“I don’t know. It seemed like a good idea at the time. Getting a quick hug from my favorite person.”
Unveiling Ghosts Page 7
