I PULLED my old razor out from between my mattresses and ran my finger over the edge. It sliced through the skin. Small bubbles of blood formed and I squeezed. The cut was shallow, though, and didn’t bleed freely. I wrapped a tissue around it.
Slipping out of my hoodie, I pulled up the sleeve of my T-shirt, exposing my left arm. Angry red slashes, healed wounds, ran in uneven lines up and down my arm. With a slow, deep breath, I focused on the cold steel between my fingers letting it become the only thing I could feel. I rested the razor against my skin. And cut.
Inhale. Exhale. The world slipped away.
I WIPED the razor blade clean with a tissue and slid it back under my mattress. I sat on the bed for several minutes, breathing in, breathing out, and letting the release ease into my mind and my heart.
Then I lifted the window and climbed out.
“Scout?” I called into the night. “Here kitty, kitty.” It was dark, only a crescent moon and a cloudy sky overhead. A dim bulb illuminated the square, concrete porch but did little to light up the yard. “Levi, where did the kitty go? Have you seen her?” I stumbled around the side of the house. Levi bounded to my side and licked my hand.
“I…I accidentally let her go. I need to find her. Levi? Have you seen her?” I moved in a circle taking in the yard. Then I did it again. And again. I looked under my car. “Is she here, Levi? Did she go under here?”
At some point, I started to cry. Finding Scout was all that mattered now. Not Trina. Dad. Mom. Just Scout. If I didn’t find her then I’d certainly failed at everything.
My arm throbbed. I had cut deeper than I meant to. Before when I cut, I knew how to apply the perfect amount of pressure. My steady fingers would slice straight line after straight line, deep enough for the calm to set in but no deeper. Now, I clutched my arm around my stomach and tried to ignore the throb.
“Scout?”
Gran walked onto the porch. “Rowan, who are you talking to? Are you okay?”
“Scout?” I walked around the side of the house. “Here, kitty, kitty. Scout? Time to eat.”
I rested my hand on Levi’s large head and called to the kitten over and over. But I didn’t hear her. I didn’t see her. I wouldn’t be able to find her.
I collapsed to the ground. Wrapping my arms around Levi, I sobbed into his fur; sobbed for Aidan; for my broken family; for my lost sister and now my lost kitty. I sobbed for my lost maybe-almost-boyfriend, maybe-almost Prom date. Heaves wracked my body, but Levi didn’t mind. He sat stoically, proudly; willing to be the raft that kept me afloat.
Then I heard it. The softest, tiniest meow. I sat up. “Scout?” I scanned the dark yard, wiping my face with the sleeve of my shirt. “Scout? Come here, baby. Come here.”
And she did. She eased out from behind the shed.
“Come here, Scout.”
She came right to me and dove for my laces. I laughed; one arm still secure around Levi’s back.
“Hello, little one,” I whispered, afraid she would run away, not trust me. But she just kept bouncing onto my laces, grabbing one within her tiny, white paws, then yanking on it until it slid away from her. Then she did it again. I forced a laugh. Tried to smile.
Then I couldn’t resist and I picked her up, cuddling her close to my chest. The three of us snuggled together in the cold night.
“ROWAN?” GRAN sat on the ground. With her arm around my shoulders, she pulled me toward her. I didn’t resist, but I did bring Scout and Levi with me until the three of us were practically sitting on her lap.
She stroked hair from my forehead and planted soft kisses on my head like she did when I was a small child.
“I’m okay, Gran,” I muttered into the kitten’s fur.
Gran was my mom’s mother. She raised my mom and her two sons by herself after her husband died when my mom was a baby. When I was twelve, I tried to convince my parents to let me go and live with her but they wouldn’t. Mom said she needed me around to help and that she’d miss me. Dad didn’t say anything other than no.
“I must say, I’m not surprised” Gran’s voice carried through the night. She looked up to the sky as if she could find the right words there. A wispy cloud passed over the moon. The stars, often so bright and abundant, were faded and stark.
“I tried to warn Amy but she wouldn’t listen.”
“Warn her about what?”
“That Trina was out of control.”
“Did you think she’d end up pregnant? She’s only fifteen.” With the word, pregnant a vision of Mike worked its way down to my throat where it made the muscles constrict and nearly sever my breathing. Only by clenching my teeth and squeezing my eyes shut would the image float away. I refused to acknowledge the waves of nausea that threatened to make me vomit all over my animals. I simply was not that upset. I wasn’t. And I wouldn’t let myself be.
Gran pulled in a deep breath, held it, and then let it out slowly. “Just a hunch. She’s been acting wild lately. And, you know, it’s a small town. Word gets around.”
I thought about the day I found Trina behind the bathroom with that boy; a boy that hadn’t been Mike. Was it possible he wasn’t the father?
“Do you know this boy she says is the father?”
The moon was just a slither of its full beauty. There was something unfulfilled about it tonight; like it was only a remnant of its former glory, afraid it would never achieve it again. It would, though. The moon would regain its glory over and over. I didn’t think any of us would. It slid out of sight behind another feathery cloud.
“I know who he is.” I snorted. “He’s my biology partner.”
I refused to say his name. It went into a little box of never open under any circumstances that I kept in the back part of my brain. From now on, the father of Trina’s baby would be a nameless, faceless boy who’d made a stupid mistake.
“His name is Mike? What’s his last name?”
Her question threatened to force my freshly shut box to open and I jumped to my feet. “I dunno. I’m going out.” I held the kitten in one hand and unleashed Levi.
“Where are you going, sweetheart?” She gazed at me with eyes that were full of a grandma’s concern.
“I’ll be back later. Relax. It’s not like I’m going to get in trouble. Trina has taken the cake on that one.”
And I walked off. Levi followed close on my heels. Opening the car door, I motioned for Levi to get in. He nestled himself into the passenger seat. I put the kitten on my lap, started the car, and took off down the road.
I didn’t know where I was going; just knew I had to go somewhere. So I pulled over on the side of the road and flipped open my phone.
R u home? Is ur dad there?
I hit send to Jess’ phone.
She responded immediately.
Yep. Dad’s here with new gf. Fun. On their 2nd bottle of vino. U ok?
I didn’t bother to answer, flipping through my other options. Maybe I could go to Dan’s house. The thought made acid spring to my throat, but I didn’t shut it away. It was a possibility. If I found nowhere else to go, I could go to him. He wouldn’t turn me away.
Was there nowhere else I could go?
I OPENED the web browser on my phone and typed in Tanya Johnson. After a few minutes of searching, I found the address I wanted and pulled back onto the road.
I drove through town, past the car lot, the used bookstore and a handful of other businesses. Then I turned off Main Street and found the place I was looking for.
The apartment building looked more like a large house with pale wooden stairs winding up the outside. It was divided into six or so apartments. The one I wanted was on the first floor.
I parked the car and put Levi on his leash, slid Scout into my bag, and jumped onto the pavement. The place was deserted except for Miss J.’s beige station wagon plastered with all sorts of odd and strange stickers.
Before I changed my mind, I walked over and stopped in front of apartment 1A. The clouds had grown heavier blocking
most of the moon’s rays. But the parking lot had one lonely light that cast an eerie, yellow sheen over everything on this side of the building.
I knocked.
The sound of Miss J.’s voice filtered through the wooden door. She was chattering like there was someone in the apartment with her. I wanted to see her, not a friend or God forbid a boyfriend.
But when she opened the door, she held a phone to her ear.
“Rowan?”
I glanced down at Levi.
“I’ll call you back,” she said into the phone. “There is a student at my door.” Her tone was dry, belying the bewildered expression on her face. “Rowan, what are you doing here? Is everything okay?”
“Trina’s pregnant.”
“What?” Her mouth fell open, revealing clean, white teeth. Miss J. was a pretty lady, with long, straight brown hair that she usually wore pulled back in a clip. Today it was on top of her head in a messy bun. She wore yoga pants and a sweatshirt with a college logo sprawled across the front. She had been my guidance counselor since the ninth grade.
“Yep. Preggers. Knocked-up. Bun in the oven.”
She stared at me then looked at Levi. “Why are you here?”
With a shrug, I petted Levi’s head. “Dad said it was my fault.”
“That your sister got pregnant? How is that your fault?” After another shrug for an answer, she sighed. “You shouldn’t be here.”
Moisture filled my eyes, but I didn’t look up. I felt the kitten tumbling around in my bag. “I have a kitten. Do you want to see it?”
“Here with you?”
“Yep.” I pulled my bag from my shoulder and unzipped a small opening.
Miss J. peered inside. “Very cute.” She didn’t pet Scout and was quiet for a moment. “And who’s this?” She did pet Levi’s head and he licked her hand.
“Levi. My dog.”
“I can see why you want to be a veterinarian.”
I nodded.
“Rowan, did something happen at home? I need to know why you’re here.”
“Look,” I snapped. “I didn’t have anywhere else to go. But don’t worry about it. I’ll leave.”
“Is everything okay at home? Did someone hit you? Hurt Trina?”
“No. Everyone’s fine. See you later.” I turned to go.
“Rowan, wait.” Her hand grazed my arm. “It’s not appropriate for you to be here. At my home. Do you understand that?”
“Got it. I’m leaving. You don’t have to ask me again.” I yanked my arm away.
“Except,” she said, and her hand was back on my arm, “I can see you’re upset. I’m not going to invite you in, however, that doesn’t mean we can’t chat for a couple of minutes. Let’s sit on the stairs. But, Rowan, it has to be just this once. You can’t come to my home again.”
With a huff, I sat. I really didn’t have anywhere else to go. Dan’s, I guess. But I wasn’t ready to go there.
Miss J. sat down beside me. She smelled nice, like scented lotion or something.
I pulled my hoodie sleeves over my hands, and then pulled Levi back to sit between my knees. His warmth soothed me. The kitten was quiet in the bag.
“I want to finish high school,” I started. “Then go to college. I want to go to college then on to veterinary school. I want to be a veterinarian. Maybe a tech or something like that.” I glanced up at her. “Do you think that’s possible?”
She opened her mouth to respond, but I continued before she had a chance. “I can go to work for that old vet that’ll be dead soon. The practice will need a new one. If the old guy can hang on until I’m ready then I’ll take his place. You can call me Dr. Slone. Wouldn’t that be cool?”
Her doe-like eyes watched me from beneath heavy brows. “Rowan, you can do anything you set your mind to. I truly believe that. If you want to finish high school and go to college, I see absolutely no reason why you can’t make that happen. Your grades are good. Your attendance is good. You just need to quit being tardy so often.”
I snorted. “Yeah. I only have so much control over that. Trina is the one that makes us late.”
“I thought that might be the case.”
I glanced at her but she was staring up at the sky. Her eyes almost didn’t seem human. More animal-like, though not in a bad way. I wanted to ask her if she had a boyfriend.
“What did your parents say about Trina being pregnant?”
I shrugged.
Scout shimmied in the bag but I jostled it gently and she settled back down.
“How did your parents find out? Did she tell them?”
“Gran found the test. Dad walked in while Gran was talking to her.”
Miss J. was quiet as she petted Levi on his head. He leaned toward her, resting his chin on her knee.
“Sweet dog you have here.”
I nodded.
“Who’s the father?” Her eyes fell on me. “Rowan?”
I scratched my arm, feeling the just-formed scab give way under my shirt.
“Mike Anderson.”
“Mike Anderson? The soccer player?”
I nodded, then I stood up. “Guess I’d better go.”
“Rowan? Are you okay?”
I sighed. “I’m fine.” I was fine. I was just fine. “I guess I’d better get back.”
She stood. Miss J. was only a couple of inches taller than me. Maybe even only one. She was far more voluptuous, but I could see where we resembled each other. More than Trina and I. Miss J. and I could be sisters. She could be my older sister, stealing home from late-night dates to tell me all the details while we sat cross-legged on her bed.
“Okay,” Miss J. said finally. “Check in with me tomorrow at school. Okay? At school.”
“Yep.” I darted toward the car with Levi on my heels, images of a different sister dancing in my head.
“Hey!” she called. “How did you do on that chem test?”
“Aced it.” I jumped into the car. Before I slammed the door, I heard her say, good girl.
I drove back home because I didn’t really have anywhere else to go.
DAD’S TRUCK was gone when I got home, which wasn’t unusual. Anytime something happened in our home, whether it was a fight with Mom or he was aggravated with me or Trina, he left. He usually returned some time during the night.
I crawled in through my window after putting Levi on his leash. The house was quiet, the only remnant of the earlier drama a general unease that permeated the air. Or maybe it was just inside of me.
When I peeked out of my room all I found were closed doors. I crept to the bathroom, washed my face and brushed my teeth. Then I pulled a Band-Aid and ointment from the medicine cabinet. My new wound wasn’t severe but it was ugly; red and slightly swollen, partly scabbed over and crusty.
My arm looked like a restaurant chopping block. I hadn’t meant to start cutting again. I had gone years without reaching for the razor and I thought I was over it. If not the urge, at least the ability to control it. And I had been able to control it. Until now.
It was late. But I didn’t want to sleep. Who knew what nightmares I’d have?
So I pulled out my trig book with thoughts of college…and escape…pushing me through the next several hours.
SUNLIGHT STREAMED through my opened curtains, burning through my closed lids. Scout licked my nose and when I opened an eye, her little face was staring at me.
“I know. I know. It’s time to get up.”
The clock read six. I had finally fallen asleep sometime after three and I didn’t feel rested at all. Rather, I felt achy and weak. I wasn’t sick, though. It was Trina’s words, hanging around me like rabid dust mites, threatening to bite at me until there was nothing left.
Mike had gotten Trina pregnant. Pregnant. My fifteen-year-old sister was pregnant. By the boy who could’ve possibly, just maybe, asked me to the Prom.
Naïveté was not for me, but I really didn’t see this one coming.
I put a fresh Band-Aid on my arm and bit th
e tips of my fingers to keep from reaching under my mattress and grabbing the thin, cold razor. Without bothering to comb my hair, I yanked on my clothes and stuffed my books into my backpack. Then I forced my feet to carry my body out of my room, where I found Gran standing in our kitchen.
“Hi, Gran. You’re here early.”
“I got here a few minutes ago.” She turned to the stove. “Are you hungry?”
The smell of eggs and bacon made my stomach turn and not in a good way. “Sure.” I sat down at the small table.
“I’m glad you’re up. I wasn’t sure what time you needed to leave for school.”
“I have plenty of time. Is T-T-she up?” I choked on her name. Each time I thought of her now, I thought of Mike. Mike. Tall, dark, and handsome Mike. Senior in high school Mike. Mike who had held the door open for me when we went to the library. Mike who had gotten my sister pregnant.
How could I ever look at Trina the same again? Pass Mike in the halls?
My chest constricted into a weighty ball. We still had to work together on our biology report.
“I wouldn’t worry about Trina,” Gran said. “I think she can miss school today.” She sliced large chunks of watermelon on a wooden board. Then she laid a plate, heavy with food, in front of me. I swallowed against the bile and closed my eyes, pulling up a vision of my ribs reflected at me in my bedroom mirror.
Today I had put on a belt to help hold up the jeans that always fit perfectly, even given me more of a butt than I really had. They didn’t anymore, though. And my long-sleeved shirt, the essential staple of my meager wardrobe, hung on me like I was nothing more than a wire hanger in a department store’s juniors’ section.
No wonder Mike preferred my voluptuous sister.
I shoved a spoonful of eggs into my mouth, ignoring the scalding burn at the back of my throat.
My Name Is Rowan: The Complete Rowan Slone Trilogy Page 6
