Maybe Never

by Sadie Allen

  “I don’t give a shit about those creepy kid statues. I need money, and if you don’t have any the next time I come by, you’ll be sorry.”

  The next thing I knew, I was flying backward. My shoulders and back hit what remained of my bed as he stormed out of the bedroom door.

  I sat very still, praying he left instead of looking for something else to hit me with besides his hands and feet. Then, when I heard the front door slam, I blew out the breath I had been holding.

  I slowly got up from the remains of wood and mattress, wincing at the aches that were beginning to come to life in my back and stomach. My face was on fire, and I still had the coppery taste of blood in my mouth from my busted lip.

  I cautiously walked back into the living room to see if I could somehow lock the door.

  The locks were busted, but I could still use the chain at the top, so I fastened it. Then I took all the broken pieces of furniture and the couch frame and piled it against the door. It wasn’t easy, and I could only push it a little bit at a time without wanting to collapse from the pain.

  When I eventually finished, I collapsed on the floor and curled into a ball. That was when the tears really came. Great, big, body-wracking sobs. Tears that I hadn’t let myself cry when Grana had died or when my first Christmas without her had been spent alone. I was finally beginning to mourn.

  My father had completely broken the wall I had built against the pain of losing her by destroying the home I had shared with her and all her things. Before, I had been able to pretend she was still alive when I saw her knickknacks, doilies, and pictures arranged around the trailer. All her things were here, and she had only gone to work or the store, but eventually she was coming back.

  He hadn’t just broken that wall I had built. He had also broken something inside of me, something essential. Now I was faced with the harsh reality that I would never see her wrinkled, smiling face or smell her Windsong perfume after every hug again.

  The pain in my chest was worse than all my injuries combined as I laid on the old brown carpet of our old blue trailer and cried until I gave out.

  Judd

  THE CHILL OF THE WIND felt good on my sweaty face, but it burned my nostrils and heaving lungs as I turned the corner and sprinted the last stretch of my run.

  It was early morning, still dark outside, but the light from the moon and streetlamps were enough to see by. Now that my schedule included working at the diner, I needed to find time to fit my workouts in around both school and work so I wasn’t out of shape for training camp this summer. It was too dark for quarterback drills this early, but I could at least get my run and lift in before I had to be at the diner at seven. I would figure something out about the drills after I got home from Sunny’s.

  Sunny. I still felt bad about embarrassing her in front of Sally yesterday. I just couldn’t stand the idea of her hearing me lamely ask Sally for a job. At the time, it seemed like such a bigger deal than it was. I mean, needing money wasn’t something to be ashamed of, and really, what had I expected her to say? She had a job working at the diner, too, and I didn’t think any less of her.

  Sunny Blackfox wasn’t Ashley Klein. Ashley would have been horrified at the prospect of working in a diner, let alone dating someone who worked at one.

  Once I reached the house, I sprawled on the front lawn and stared up at the fading night. The dew was cold and wet against my exposed skin. I could practically feel the steam rising off it.

  I needed to stretch, but the complete stillness of the morning was peaceful after what seemed like years of chaos.

  I needed to apologize to Sunny. I hated the awkwardness that had developed between us before I left the diner. She was cute. I couldn’t help laughing when I saw her banging her head against that table. I didn’t know exactly what that had been about, but it was cute, nonetheless.

  Getting up, I dusted myself off and walked to the garage to stretch and start lifting … smiling the whole way there.

  I walked through the back door of the diner at approximately six forty-five to see Sally already at work at the stove. She glanced over her shoulder and gave me a smile.

  “Right on time, sugar.”

  Evidently, Sally was a morning person.

  “Where should I start?”

  She pointed toward a coat rack that was mounted to the wall by the door. “Hang your jacket up and grab one of those big black aprons.”

  I did as she said, then pulled the apron over my head and fastened it behind my back as best I could. My arms were still a little sore from lifting, but it wasn’t impossible. Then I looked around the kitchen, hoping to catch a glimpse of Sunny before our shifts started. However, I didn’t see her. Three smaller aprons and another big one were still hanging on the rack, so I was probably the only other one here.

  “Now, grab one of those rags off the shelf and a bottle of cleaner, and start wiping down tables. I know Sunny probably did all that last night, but it never hurts to do it again before we open.”

  That was how my shift started. I was still wiping down the counters when people started coming in. It was awkward at first, but eventually, people got over their shock and the whispers died down after their meals arrived. Still, I would catch them looking at me when they thought I wasn’t looking, like they were waiting for me to do something weird.

  The other waitress, Carrie, was late and had to hurry to fill coffee mugs and take orders. Sunny was still nowhere in sight. I thought she had said she had the morning shift, but maybe I had heard her wrong.

  I was heading toward the kitchen with a bin full of dirty dishes, mugs, and glasses when I heard Sally leave a message on Sunny’s phone.

  “Sun, call me. You’ve never not shown up for work. I’m worried, sugar.” Sighing, she hit a button on her phone and stuffed it back into her apron pocket. Then she looked over at me and said, “This isn’t like her. You can set your watch to that girl, she’s so reliable. Something’s wrong.” She pulled out her phone again and started tapping on the screen, her fake fingernails making a clacking sound. Then she put it back to her ear.

  I turned to the sink and started unloading. I didn’t turn on the water, though, wanting to hear who she was calling next and if it was about Sunny.

  After overhearing the first five minutes of conversation, I realized she was on the phone with the hospital, seeing if any car accidents had been brought in last night.

  “Looks like there were no accidents brought in this morning or last night, but the nurse couldn’t tell me more than that.”

  “I’m supposed to go over to Sunny’s after my shift today, but she never texted me. I don’t know what to do. I mean, I don’t even know where she lives.”

  Sally was quiet for a minute, her face screwed up into a tight expression. Then she blew out a breath and started nodding. “I’ll tell ya what, if you’ll go over there and check on her for me, I’ll give you her address. I can’t leave the diner to do it myself, because I have no one to cover for me with Sunny MIA. She’s the only other person I trust behind this stove.”

  That was news to me. I hadn’t realized Sunny did some of the cooking at the diner. Not that I came in here much before Sally had hired me because my mom was big on eating at home.

  The rest of my shift was just more of the same: clear tables, rinse dishes, load the dishwasher, sweep the floor, empty the garbage, and repeat. When the lunch crowd started coming in, I recognized some of them from school. I kept my head down and tried to make myself invisible. It obviously didn’t work since I overheard them laughing when Matt Smith said, “I wonder if Asher knows Jackson works here?”

  I got a sick feeling in my stomach at the thought of Asher and his crew hanging around Sally’s. I really needed this job and didn’t need Sally firing me over something that jerk did or said.

  Corey, who was on the basketball team with Matt, pulled out his phone. “Well, if he didn’t, he does now.”

  The guys kept chuckling as Matt replied, “Dude, that’s cold
.”

  Some of them nodded in agreement.

  “It’s not like he doesn’t deserve it. He thought he ran the school, and that he was too good for everyone in this town with his scholarship, his girlfriend, and his perfect family. Turns out, he’s a freak.”

  “His dad is, right? How did he not know his own dad was some drag queen? They probably played dress up together.”

  The table was silent for a moment. I didn’t know if they had seen me and knew that I had heard the conversation, or if the subject about the former athletic director was just that uncomfortable still. Who knew?

  It wasn’t like I hadn’t heard all that before. Corey definitely hadn’t been the first to say something like that, and I was sure he wouldn’t be the last. I should be used to it by now, but I wasn’t. Each time someone said that “I should’ve known” or that “I deserve the way people treat me,” it tore at something inside me.

  I bet, if you looked inside my soul, you would see thousands of wounds torn open, festering inside of me. I wanted to start throwing things. I wanted to catch up to Corey and pound his face in. I wanted so many things, yet I was powerless. I couldn’t do any of them. I needed this job, and I needed to keep my nose clean so I could get the heck out of this town. That football scholarship was my ticket, and I was going to hold on to it with both hands.

  Matt threw his napkin on his plate and said, “Hey, guys, I gotta head out. Promised my mom I’d help clean out the garage.” He threw some bills on the table before he left, and then the rest of the guys followed suit.

  I went over and bussed their table, and as I was heading back toward the kitchen, Carrie gave me a sympathetic smile. She must have heard what they had said. Great. The last thing I wanted was pity from the people I worked with, too.

  I just kept my head down and took my load through the swinging doors of the kitchen.

  When two o’clock rolled around and it was time to hang up my apron, Sally told me how to get to Sunny’s, which wasn’t hard to find since everyone knew where the local mobile home park was. All she needed to tell me was which trailer was hers. She also handed me a hot cylindrical Styrofoam container with a plastic lid.

  “This here is some soup I made for her. I imagine she got sick and probably slept through her shift. Be sure to call me once you talk to her.”

  I nodded and promised I would. Then I shrugged on my jacket and was about to head out the door when her voice stopped me.

  “You know those kids are a bunch of knuckleheads, right?”

  I didn’t turn around, but I nodded.

  “If that turd Asher Klein or his harpy of a sister shows up, you just give me a call. I’ll tell them where they can stick it.”

  This time, I did turn around, and I gave her the first genuine smile I’d had all day.

  “Shame people in this town want to blame a boy for the actions of a grown man. I ain’t like most people. I’m not going to make some kid a whippin’ boy for something that he can’t control.”

  I felt the smile die and a lump formed in my throat. I turned back toward the door, not knowing what to say. Her words calmed a little of the storm that had been raging inside of me since Matt and his buddies had come into the diner. I needed to leave, though, before I did something stupid … like cry.

  I cleared the emotion from my throat, then said, “Thanks. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  The turnoff to Country Acres was a dirt farm to market road on the edge of town. I drove through the entryway that was marked by peeling, yellow signs on each side of the path. One said, “Country,” and the other said, “Acres,” in faded hunter green looping script. In front of the sign, on the right, was a smaller hand-painted sign that said, “And liquor store at front office.”

  I looked over to the left and, sure enough, there was a small white building with bars on the windows and doors that had “Office” painted in black lettering, and another hand-painted sign by the doorstep that read, “Country Acres Liquor.”

  Sally said Sunny lived in a blue trailer up toward the front on the right, and that I would know it when I saw it. There was only one blue trailer that I could see as I got closer to the lots. It was a faded blue and small, maybe a single-wide, but it was one of the nicest ones in the park. It had little pots of flowers and plants out front, and the paint on the porch looked pretty fresh. When I turned in, I saw Sunny’s little red Nissan pickup parked off to the side.

  I slammed on my brakes and threw the Jeep in park when I saw the condition of her truck. There were traces of black sludge on the windows and egg shells all around the back of the truck. Those bitches hadn’t even waited twenty-four hours before making their move against her.

  Stomach churning, I got out of my Jeep, sprinted up to her door, and knocked.

  Nothing. Not a sound from inside.

  The churning in my stomach started rising. I could feel it in my chest. What if she was hurt? What if Ashley or even Asher decided to make an example of her?

  I tried the door, but it wouldn’t budge, so instead of knocking, I started pounding on the door with the side of my fist.

  Finally, I heard a loud, “What!” from the other side.

  “Sunny, it’s Judd … Please open the door.”

  Quiet again.

  I lifted my fist to start pounding, when her voice stopped me.

  “Yeah … Uh … Now’s not a good time, Judd.”

  Not a good time?

  “You didn’t show up for your shift.”

  I heard a thump and some colorful words, but other than that, she didn’t say anything else.

  “Sunny?”

  “Look, I said it wasn’t a good time. I’m … uh … sick.” The sound of her coughing came after that, which was pretty convenient since she hadn’t coughed prior. She was faking and lying to me.

  The panic I felt earlier turned into a burn in my chest. I didn’t like her lying to me. Yesterday’s Sunny felt real … and I needed real in my life. I’d had enough fake people and lies to last me the rest of my life.

  “That’s what Sally thought, so she made you some soup. Let me run back to the car and get it.”

  Before she could tell me no, I headed back to the Jeep for Sally’s soup, thinking about how I was going to get her to tell me what was going on.

  I pulled out my phone and dialed Sally’s number. She answered on the first ring, which told me how worried she was about our girl. Well, her girl.

  “She okay?”

  “Not sure …” I answered hesitantly.

  “What do you mean, you’re not sure?” Sally asked back, her scratchy voice loud through the earpiece.

  “Something’s up. She says she’s sick, but I’m not buying it.”

  “Do I need to close the diner and come out there?”

  “No, I’ll figure out what’s going on and let you know.”

  “Okay, if you need help, you call. I don’t know how to work the text thingamajigger. I worry about my girl out there, living in that trailer all alone. There’s some pretty bad riffraff living in that park.”

  That was no lie. If this wasn’t a mobile home park, I would think some of the people wandering around out here lived on the street. I wouldn’t be surprised if there was a meth lab in one of those trailers toward the back. I wasn’t entirely comfortable parking my Jeep here, let alone having a girl like Sunny living here. Then her words sunk in …

  Sunny lived alone? Where was her dad?

  “Yeah, I kind of noticed that.”

  “All right, if I’m not needed, I gotta run before this place starts falling down around my ears.”

  Then there was dead air. No good-bye. No nothing, which made me smile for some odd reason.

  I opened the passenger side door and took out the soup and the supplies I had bought for our project. Since Sunny hadn’t texted me last night, I had stopped by the Dollar Store and picked up a box of brownie mix, eggs, and vegetable oil on the way out here. I couldn’t wait to see the look on her face.

 
; Closing the door, I hit the lock button on my key fob four times to make sure my doors were locked. Then I headed back up the steps and banged on Sunny’s door.

  “Open the door, Sunny.”

  I looked around and noticed that no one was paying me any attention. Some of her neighbors were outside, sitting on their porches or in the yard, and not one asked who I was or threatened to call the police. They just sat there and watched me bang and yell at Sunny’s door like they were simply in front of their television sets, watching some dumb reality show. I hoped Sunny planned on moving away after graduation.

  “Really, Judd, I’m sick …” More of the fake coughing fit followed.

  I walked down the steps and went around to the back of the trailer. If I thought the view from the front was bad, it was nothing compared to the back. The mobile homes just got progressively worse the more you looked farther in. I was definitely convinced that some of the trailers toward the back of the park had meth cooking in them.

  When I found the back door to the trailer, I groaned. No steps. Just a yellowed door set into the siding.

  Setting down the soup and my bag of baking supplies, I reached up and tried the door handle.

  Unlocked.

  What the heck? Didn’t she know how unsafe that was? How could she be so careless in this neighborhood? Still, not one of her neighbors said a word as I, some strange guy, walked to the back of her trailer and was about to break in.

  I opened the door a crack and peeked inside. I knew right off that something wasn’t right.

  There was Sunny, standing in the middle of what was probably her living room, arms hugging her waist as she faced the front door. If her body language wasn’t my first clue that something bad had happened, the debris everywhere had confirmed my suspicions. Her home was a wreck of splintered furniture that was piled in front of the door, couch stuffing, and broken pictures. Shock had me rooted to the spot.

  I must have made a noise because Sunny spun around so quickly I thought she would fall over. When I got my first look at her face, fury, the likes I had never felt, coursed through me.