My Name Is Rowan: The Complete Rowan Slone Trilogy

by Tracy Hewitt Meyer

  “It’s okay,” I whispered. “It’s okay.”

  He came out, putting tentative paws on the cool tile. I kept rubbing his ear because he seemed to like that. Soon he was standing in front of me, his head leaning over my lap. I started on the other ear, too. His head dipped, almost like it was putting him in a trance.

  “Good boy,” I said.

  The other dogs didn’t whimper, or bark, or show signs of jealousy. When I looked over at them they were just watching us. I smiled at them all. “Thank you,” I choked, so grateful for their understanding in that moment that I would’ve adopted them all if I could.

  When I turned back to Charley-bear, he was sitting. I leaned my face down, something I knew I shouldn’t do, but I couldn’t help it. I rested my forehead on his as I rubbed.

  His breathing was loud, mine was soft. I started to run my hands over his head, down his shoulders, over his back. He tensed a little but after several long caresses, he seemed to relax again.

  When I heard Janie’s heavy footsteps coming down the hallway, I started to whisper to him. “Janie’s coming.” My voice was just loud enough to hear, my caresses slow and gentle. “Everything’s okay. I promise.”

  “Rowan?” Janie came into the dog room. She stopped by the door when she saw me. At first her expression flashed with alarm, concern, irritation. Then her shoulders fell and she smiled. “How did you coax our little friend out of there?” She lowered her voice, too.

  My hands were steady and consistent, traveling a path from his ears, over his head, and down his back. He was watching Janie, but still seemed relaxed under my touch.

  “It was just time, I think.” I smiled back at her.

  “Well, it is good timing. The lady out front is interested in seeing him. She is a widower who never had children, so there are no young ones to worry about. She is interested in adopting him. I don’t think he’s violent. Do you?”

  I gazed down into his dark eyes, searching, trying to read into his little heart, his tender, damaged soul.

  “I don’t think he would hurt her.” I cleared my throat to try and rid myself of the lump that had formed there. “She wants to see him now?”

  “She just left. She wanted to see him now but then received a phone call she had to take. She has to go out of town on business and will be here next week.”

  That gave me enough time to find out if my idea would work and if it did, we’d have to find this nice widower a different dog.

  “I JUST can’t let this lie.” Mrs. Anderson stood in the living room, Gran beside her, and Trina slumped on the couch. Mr. Anderson had left that morning for a dental conference otherwise, I’m sure he would’ve been there, too.

  I dropped my bag on the floor. There was no need to ask what she was talking about.

  “If they were, in fact, Trina’s drugs, your grandmother needed to know.”

  “They aren’t my drugs,” she spat from the couch.

  “Hush,” Gran demanded. “Rowan, come in and sit down so we can get to the bottom of this.”

  With lead feet, I walked over to the fireplace, my head spinning from déjà vu. It was only months ago that I had been called into the living room of my old home to witness Trina’s lie that she’d been raped by Mike. The statement had been untrue then and her statement was untrue now. Would I never be rid of my lying sister?

  “Rowan, do you know anything about these drugs?” asked Gran.

  “No.”

  “Neither do I,” Trina whined, crossing her arms over her chest.

  “Girls, someone brought drugs into this house. I have a mind to go to the police, but I want answers before I decide what to do. Rowan says they aren’t hers and I’m inclined to believe her.”

  Inclined to believe me? I thought that was a done deal.

  Trina’s blue eyes looked from Mrs. Anderson to Gran and back. She didn’t once look at me. Suddenly, she melted into tears.

  “I’m so sorry! They’re mine. I’m so sorry. It’s just been…been so hard!” She hiccupped and covered her face with her hands. “I miss my sister. It’s so hard not having Rowan home. She doesn’t talk to me. She doesn’t act like a sister. I miss her,” she wailed. “I miss my sister.” Her shoulders shook with the weight of her tears.

  I rolled my eyes. Mrs. Anderson looked stunned. Gran watched her with a tilted head as if trying to figure out truth from deception. There was no trying to figure out for me. This was the same old song and dance.

  It took approximately thirty seconds before Mrs. Anderson sprang across the room and knelt in front of Trina. A second later, Trina was in her arms, Mrs. Anderson cooing to her in a soft voice. Gran didn’t move to comfort Trina. Instead, she came to my side and put a hand on my shoulder.

  Her eyes were on my face. After trying not to return her gaze, I finally gave up and looked into her familiar eyes. There was so much there, so much unsaid that didn’t need to be said. She believed me. I could tell she did.

  But I could only stay there for so long. Eventually, I just walked away. I grabbed Levi’s leash and left the house. No one tried to stop me. Mrs. Anderson probably didn’t even notice. She and Trina were sitting on the couch with their heads bent together, Mrs. Anderson holding my sister’s hand in her own.

  Something needed to change. I couldn’t stay here any longer. Not after everything that had happened. But where could I go? Where did I belong?

  As I walked along the smooth sidewalk, Levi trotting along beside me, I wracked my brain for options. Nothing came to mind as I headed into the dog park. I pulled off Levi’s leash and slid his ball out of my pocket. I threw it far across the lawn and he darted after it.

  Going back to my home was not an option. Trina was still there. Someday my mom would return.

  The Anderson’s home was not a good fit anymore. Things had changed. Mike and I had broken up. His mother seemed to be Trina’s crusader. I wasn’t their child. I wasn’t part of their family.

  Levi and I stayed at the dog park for an hour and it took that long for another jarring idea to materialize in my head. My mind flipped between this new thought and the one I had had earlier about my mom. If they both worked…if I could make these changes happen, my life was about to take a drastic turn, hopefully for the better.

  ON MONDAY, I arrived at school early to see Miss J. The heat in the building didn’t seem to be working, and I slid my cold hands into my coat pockets. The door to her office was open and Miss J. was reading the newspaper, wrapped up like she was going for a hike in the snow.

  “Hey.”

  “Hi, Rowan. How are you? I’m glad to see you here. I didn’t know if you would come in today or not.” She put a hand on her red nose, cupping it around her skin.

  “I’m okay.” I fell into the chair.

  “What’s up? You’re here early.”

  “I was just thinking…”

  “Yes?”

  I paused a minute, gathering my thoughts. The tip of my nose was also cold, and I pushed the back of my hand against it for warmth. “It’s freezing in here.”

  Miss J. had on her winter coat, a thick brown scarf, and gloves. She laughed. “I know. Tomorrow I’m bringing in a space heater. They say we’re not allowed to have them, but this is ridiculous.” Her eyes widened. “Don’t tell anyone I said that. Your guidance counselor doesn’t break the rules.”

  I laughed too even though smiling made my icy cheeks hurt. “I won’t tell, I promise.”

  “So, again I ask, what’s up?”

  “I don’t know.” My nerves suddenly exploded. I jumped up and walked to the window, bouncing on my feet for warmth. “Well, maybe I do know.”

  Outside the window, crossing the parking lot was a girl whose walk and posture reminded me of Jess if it weren’t for the pixie-cut blonde hair. But when she drew closer, I realized it was Jess. She’d cut her hair, sheering away every trace of the oily black.

  Oh my God.

  “Rowan?” said Miss J.

  She stopped at a picnic
table yards from the window where I stood. She didn’t sit down, but stretched her arms out wide and yawned.

  She wore the tightest shirt I’d seen her wear, showing off the slight bulge to her midsection. Over her sweater, she had on an old black leather jacket that she’d found at Goodwill two years ago.

  Ever in true Jess fashion, she still wore her black boots. She would go into labor with those things on. She wore a little black skirt that barely covered her butt, but her thick black tights made it look like she was more covered than she was.

  If it weren’t for the rounding belly and the newly blonde, short hair, she was the same old Jess. But then she wasn’t. And she would never be that girl again. In five months she’d be a mother.

  I turned to face Miss J.

  “I want to go to Berkeley.”

  Her brows pursed. “Okay. But I thought you were waiting to see what they’ll offer you.”

  I TURNED back to the window and watched Jess sit down and put earbuds in her ears. “There is an apartment open above you, right? Didn’t I see a sign saying it’s for rent?”

  “Yes... Why? Rowan, you’re talking all over the place.”

  “Jess and I are going to rent that apartment. We’ll move in as soon as possible.”

  “As soon as possible?”

  “Yeah. I’ll drive over there after school.”

  Outside the window, Jess closed her eyes and put her hand on her belly.

  “Can you afford a place of your own?”

  A dingy yellow bus pulled up and a group of students piled out.

  “Janie gave me a raise recently. She promoted me to assistant manager. I won’t have a lot extra, but with Jess working at the bookstore, we should be okay.”

  Miss J. was quiet, reading something on her computer screen.

  “What are you doing?” I asked.

  “I’m double-checking that you can move out and live on your own while in high school.”

  “Why not?” I demanded. “I’m eighteen. I’m an adult. Right? And Jess will be eighteen tomorrow.”

  “Technically. But you’re still in school, so I need to double-check. I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

  I clenched my teeth as I waited, listening to the sound of her fingers flying across the keyboard. “There.”

  “What?” I sat back down in the seat and shoved my hands in my pockets.

  “I sent an email to the principal to see what he has to say.”

  I nodded.

  “But you know what?”

  “What?” I braced myself for the lecture.

  “I think that is the best idea you’ve had all year.”

  I smiled and even though my cheeks were frozen, my heart felt light and warm.

  I DIDN’T say anything to Jess about the apartment.

  “I love the hair, Jess. It looks amazing.” And it really did. Jess had pretty, soft features when they weren’t masked under the makeup and dyed hair.

  “Thanks. Well, I thought it was time to, you know, make a change.”

  “Well, it looks great.” I grabbed my textbook and slammed the locker. “Your makeup looks great, too.”

  For the first time ever, I actually saw Jess blush. Normally she wore so much makeup her emotions were well hidden.

  She smiled. “I’m trying something.”

  “Yeah? What’s that?”

  “I’m, well, obviously pregnant, and I decided to try to be as healthy as I can be. You know, for this little guy.”

  “Little guy?”

  She bit her lip. “It’s a boy.”

  “What? When did you find out?”

  Her smile faded a little. “Last night. My stomach started hurting really bad and I took the bus to the ER.”

  “Why didn’t you call me?”

  “Ro, you have enough going on. They did an ultrasound, or whatever it’s called.”

  “And everything is okay?”

  “Yep. She said I’m eating too much. Indigestion. And she also said it’s a boy.”

  “A boy! Wow. That’s cool.”

  “I know. I’m actually starting to warm up to this whole idea. You know, being a mom and all.” She ran a hand over her belly. “I can’t wait to meet him.”

  “Are you going to tell Paul?”

  She shook her head, and I acted like I didn’t see the sadness wash over her face. “No. I don’t even know where he is. The last time I tried to call his cell, it said it was no longer in service. He’s good and gone.”

  I wove my arm through hers as we walked down the hall. “Well, good riddance to him. We’ll be all right—all three of us.” She squeezed my arm and we went to class.

  AFTER SCHOOL, I had two stops to make before I went to the shelter. Stop one had me driving down the interstate heading toward Berkeley Mountain College. I needed to see if the same feelings I had on my first visit were still there. The same parking space I’d used last time was open so I pulled into it, taking it as a sign.

  I stepped out of my car and stood on the curb, watching the bustle of a busy college campus whirl around me. Miss J. didn’t think I’d have any trouble being accepted to this school. The only issue would be scholarship money. I always thought that whichever school offered me the most money was the one I’d have to attend. But now with this raise…Well, there might be other options.

  Plus, this school was known for giving generous aid to its students. I was local, which was a bonus—many locals didn’t come to this school. They often went to the state university where Mike was or to another state school two hours away. This little college mostly pulled international students and ones from other states with wealthy families that could afford to pay the tuition. I hoped, as I stood on that sidewalk, it meant that there would be more funds left over for students like me.

  “Hey! I know you.”

  To my right Shane was walking toward me, his guitar slung over his back. His hair was disheveled and his flannel shirt hung half in and half out of his pants.

  “Hi.” I took this as another sign, though seeing him wasn’t the reason I’d driven over here.

  He smiled as he stopped in front of me.

  “Rowan,” I reminded him.

  “Yeah. I remember. Hey, did you decide to come to school here?”

  It really was a beautiful campus with the buildings planted atop a soaring mountainside with surrounding peaks that were snow-capped and surreal. It almost looked like a picture from a photography book. The air seemed cleaner, fresher as I pulled it into my lungs. There was a feeling that I had being here the last time. It was this feeling I wanted to see if I had again. And I did. There weren’t many ways to describe it other than it felt right.

  “Maybe. I’m not sure yet.”

  I stole glances at Shane, trying not to look like I was staring, but I couldn’t help it. When he smiled, his deep dimples showed. His teeth were slightly crooked but in a good way.

  “You want to grab a cup of coffee? I can show you the student union.”

  I glanced at the looming clock that sat atop a long black pole. “Sure. I have about twenty minutes. Is that enough?”

  “Yeah, sure. I have class soon anyway.”

  He flicked his head to the side, and I stepped in stride beside him. He was taller than Mike and the top of my head didn’t even make it to his shoulder. But he was thinner than Mike. Then, when I realized what I was doing, I bit the inside of my lip. I did not want to start comparing every guy I met to Mike.

  I clenched my fists and forced my attention on Shane. “So, have you been playing much?”

  “Oh yeah. Every day. I got a gig this coming weekend in a little bookstore near here.”

  “Where? My best friend works at a bookstore.”

  He laughed, an easy, effortless sound. “I don’t remember the name. It’s written down somewhere. What’s the name of the place your friend works?”

  “Appalachian Books and More. It’s in Oak Town.”

  “That sounds familiar. It might be the same place. Do you know if
they’re having a music night?”

  “I don’t know. She hasn’t said. If her boss mentioned it, there’s a good chance she didn’t even hear him. She’s not exactly a marvel of concentration.”

  He laughed again. “In here.” He held open a glass door and within a step, I was inside the student union, just like I belonged there. A blast of heat hit me and made my frozen fingers tingle.

  Before me sprawled a huge room, long and wide with blaring lights. Along the left side was a small, separate sitting area where a handful of students hunched over books or laptops. A little farther over started a string of little shops—a place to get coffee and four different fast food restaurants. The rest of the room was covered with tables that were half-full with students.

  “Coffee is over here. I have to admit, I come in here at least three times a day.” He leaned into my ear and dropped his voice low. “I have an addiction.” He chuckled and his breath stirred my hair.

  “To coffee?” I leaned back toward him as if sharing a secret.

  “Yep. To coffee. I’m such a bad boy.”

  The smile on my face seemed to seep into my bloodstream. “Well, I won’t tell anyone.”

  We poured our coffees—his in the largest cup they had and mine in the smallest. When we went to the counter to pay, he said, “It’s on me.”

  “Oh, thanks, but that’s okay. I’ll get mine.”

  He pulled out his worn wallet. “I insist. Consider me the local school representative. If they get tuition out of you because I bought you a coffee, maybe I’ll get a better grade in linguistics.”

  I couldn’t help but laugh. He was an easy person to be around. “Well, thank you very much. And if I end up going here, I’ll look you up and return the favor.”

  “That’s a plan.” With a light tap, he hit his cup against mine. “Cheers.”

  “Cheers.”

  “So find out if it’s your friend’s bookstore and see if you guys can come. I always like seeing a friendly face when I play. Some of my other friends will be there. You met them the other day. The more the merrier. I tend to get a little nervous.” His relaxed expression told me otherwise. He didn’t seem like someone who let too much stress him out. If I played guitar like him, nothing would stress me out either.