by Nicole Thorn
“I can talk to my dad,” Riley said. “Maybe he knows someone at the school who can help us out. Someone who won’t… have issues with us.”
Yes, that was an issue. We needed someone who couldn’t care less about us. Someone who would teach us and be done with it. We had to worry about spies and all kinds of things. We were kind of screwed.
“We’ll figure it out,” I sighed, putting my chin in my hand.
Adalyn was licking her plate clean when my mother walked in, still holding the phone. Her expression was utterly pensive as she watched her feet.
“Girls,” she said, tapping her hand with the phone. “We should talk.”
Uh, oh. “Are we in trouble? That guy deserved to get his nose busted,” I said.
Mom opened her mouth then closed it, seeming to have to process that. “Umm, no. No one is in trouble. I got a very interesting call about you, and I’m sure Riley and Adalyn’s got one too.”
Adalyn made a face. “What’s it about?”
Mom clicked her tongue, setting the phone down. “Well… someone wants to have you girls make a few appearances.”
I groaned at the same time as Riley. She huffed and crossed her arms, putting her feet up on the ottoman.
“You might care about this one,” Mom said. We all looked at her with doubt. “This is a place that helps out women who escaped abusive situations. Some from spouses, family… your situation.” She paused to swallow and blink tears back. “They want the three of you to speak about survival. It’s all for charity, and they want to fly you down to Anaheim for a few days.”
I looked at my sisters, and our blank faces were all the same. What the hell could we say to a bunch of women who’d been through hell? We were kids who didn’t know anything about normal life. We’d been out for only a few months. I didn’t even know if I could talk about that stuff again in public. Bennett’s talk drained me, and that was only the two of us.
Mom dismissed herself to let us talk, and Riley went first. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know,” Adalyn added timidly. “A big crowd…”
I sighed. “But… this isn’t some TV interview. These are people who’ve suffered. Who for some reason think that we can help.” I couldn’t understand that.
If I went, then I would have to not show up at the center. Not take calls. I suppose I would be able to make calls from where I was… I couldn’t leave everyone hanging. People depended on me. Someone could die if I left.
Riley sat up and planted her bare feet on the ground. “Do you think they want us to make speeches?”
“Probably,” I said “I think that they would want us to get up on a stage and tell a bunch of strangers about what happened to us and how we’re getting along.”
Adalyn picked at her pants, pulling at frays. “How are we getting along?”
“What do you mean?” I asked.
Riley leaned forward. “I think she means, I’m a basket case, she’s a shut in, and you…”
My eyes narrowed. “What about me?”
She exhaled, and conspicuously looked away. “You’re unsure of yourself. You had a panic attack over dressing up for Bennett. Come on, Layla.”
All right, she had a point. I had some issues to work out. But I was surviving as best I could. Maybe that was the point of all this. Not to be perfect but just to be.
Calmly, I crossed my legs and tapped on my knee. “Fine, then… What should we do for these people?”
“I think we should call them and see what they want,” Riley decided. She seemed so sure.
I nodded. “Okay, then… MOM?!”
“And they said that we didn’t have to fly,” I told Dr. Hastings as I played with his slinky, lying on his couch. “Wilson is gonna rent a prom bus thing for us, and we’re gonna drive down. Maybe I can bring Benny…”
My doctor listened intently as I explained to him what we learned. We had it right for the most part. They wanted us to make a speech in front of a bunch of women that were part of this organization. There were a lot of people going to speak, so it wasn’t just about us, and some of the girls speaking were even younger than us.
We talked it out and decided that this was a good cause. It wasn’t about a story on the news or entertainment. It was people telling their story to remind everyone that they could get past it. So to Cali we went.
“Bennett,” Dr. Hastings said. “You talk a lot about that boy. For someone you just met, he seems important to you.”
“He is,” I said simply because it was, in fact, simple. “I care about him a lot.”
He nodded. “I take it he cares for you too.”
“He does.”
“Good. How have you been feeling lately?”
I laughed and sat up, turning forward as I did so. “I already told you, Doc.”
With a soft smile, he said, “No. You told me what’s been happening. You didn’t tell me how you felt. Like about that girl that died. How are you doing with that?”
Mary… Her name hurt my heart. I thought about her every day and stared at her contact information in my notebook. I’d called her mother to offer my sympathy, and she had barely been able to talk. Her sister was the woman who told me of the accident, and she thanked me before she hung up.
“I’m angry,” I admitted.
“Why?”
“Because she was fifteen and could have been anything she wanted to be. She died for a terrible reason.”
Again, I got a nod. “Yes. Children die every single day. Some get sick, some are in accidents, and another million reasons. Do you mourn all of them like this?”
I scoffed. “Obviously not. But I knew her.”
“Did you? You spoke to her from a schedule you made with a dozen other people. You cared for her, you checked in on her, you worried for her. She was a girl you knew that passed away. Her death is tragic, but you shouldn’t let it darken your days. There’s no sense in that.”
Darken my days? So, somehow it was a hassle to think about her once in a while. As if she didn’t deserve more. “She should be mourned.”
“She will be, by her mother and aunt. They’ll cry, and they’ll sit up at night because she was their family. You can’t feel everything for everyone, Layla. It’s going to hurt you. You put so much of yourself into this job that you’re skipping out on living your own life. You can and should be sad about this, but you can’t dwell. It’s going to make it worse. Did your sisters have to convince you to take time away from the center?”
Damn him. “A little. But I want to help these people.”
“I know. You want to help everyone. Some people, they cannot be saved. Mary could not be saved from what happened to her. That’s not her fault. It’s not her mother’s fault. It is not your fault. She used to feel like she wanted to die, so take some comfort in knowing that before she did, she felt happy. Hopeful. That is a beautiful thing, and you helped her with that.”
It hit me like a train to the face. It was kind of beautiful. She was trying so hard in the end, and she believed that she had a future. One she got robbed of, but she wanted it.
I reached for a tissue and held it in my hands while I grumbled. “I’m not gonna cry,” I said in a shaky voice. “This is just in case. I have allergies.”
“Of course,” Dr. Hastings said with a solid nod. “Me too.”
I breathed until air started coming out evenly. Mary was dead, and I couldn’t change that. I cared about her, but I didn’t love her. I didn’t love her like I loved my sisters. I didn’t care about her like I cared about Bennett. If something happened to Bennett… oh, God. I didn’t know if I could handle that. Not now. Not after crying with him and sleeping on him and telling him all my secrets. He was so real to me.
“So, you’re going?” the doctor asked after my allergy attack. “With the girls?”
“Yeah, and Wilson. We’re leaving in three days.”
“You mentioned something about taking your friend Bennett.”
Oh, that
snapped my thoughts back into attention. I’d thought about seeing if Bennett wanted to go. They were having the event at the Disneyland Hotel, and they’d rented out part of the park for after. Some very generous supporters wanted them to have some time. I knew Bennett had never been there. The only one of us who had was Wilson, and he only went once when he had been a kid.
“I think he would like Disneyland,” I said with a smile. “I really wanna get him one of those Mickey hats.”
Dr. Hastings closed his notebook and tossed it on the table between us. He’d done it before, so it didn’t seem terribly odd to me. “You haven’t told me much about him. What does he do when he’s not writing?”
I laughed. “I don’t think he spends a lot of time not writing. He’s got a ton of stories. He said he put me in one, but he doesn’t want me to read it until he finishes editing.”
The corner of the doctor’s lips turned up. “He put you in a story?”
“Yup. He said I’m some kind of angel.”
Another bigger smirk. “I see.”
What? What was there to see?
“Writing is a very intimate thing sometimes,” Dr. Hastings said. “Don’t you think?”
I was at a loss for a moment. “Not really. It’s fake people in a story.”
“I bet they don’t feel fake to him. I bet they mean a lot to him. He spends hours crafting them, and he plays with them. Feels what they feel. It’s very personal.”
When he said it like that… The way Bennett talked about his characters like they were friends of his. And I knew he cried over them sometimes, and that he felt bad when he did something bad to them in the story. He agonized over choices, and he wanted them to be perfect.
Dr. Hastings sighed when the session was over, much like he normally did. He didn’t like the timer or limiting people when they talked.
“You should think on that,” he said as he rose and buttoned his suit jacket.
“On what?”
“Bennett. You should think more about him.”
We walked to the door, and I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what he meant. “Like the story stuff?”
He smiled and opened his door. “Sure. Oh, by the way, I was thinking of getting a puppy. I’d like to bring him into the office. I think some of the younger people I treat would like it.”
“A puppy,” I said with excitement. “You should totally get a puppy.”
He sighed again, looking at the corner of the room. “I used to have a dog. Had him for a good long while. Died old and left me feeling a little lost in an odd way. It’s making me hesitate.”
My forehead wrinkled. “Why?”
“It hurt.”
“But it made you happy when you had him.”
“Yes, but I fear I may never recover from my old dog’s death. Getting a new one might not be fair to the puppy. Why should he have to deal with a damaged owner?”
I made a face. “Just because it hurt you in the past doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do something that would make you happy. That’s nuts. If you let what happened keep hurting you and keep you from moving on, that’s not very fair to you. The puppy might even make the past not hurt so bad.”
The man smiled wide and lightly kicked the door. “I suppose you have a point. Staying stuck in the past is very unhealthy. It’s all right to remember and to have scars, but there’s no reason not to fight for a happy ending.”
I patted his arm. “Totally. I like huskies, by the way.”
“Goodbye, Layla,” he called after me.
I waved over my shoulder at him.
I sat in my car and called up Bennett. When he picked up, he grunted, so I knew he was working. It made me grin madly.
“Hi, honey,” I said. “I need to talk to you for a minute.”
Still distracted, he said, “Yeah?”
“Me and the girls are going on a trip in a few days. We’ll be gone another few.”
Pure silence. Then, “Oh. You’re leaving.”
“Yeah. We’re going to do this speaking event thing in California. I was hoping you’d wanna come. They’re putting us up in a fancy hotel, and I’m gonna steal a bunch of soap and the remote. I could use someone to help me.”
And I wanted to see him. I didn’t want to go three days without him around. Not because I was afraid for him but because I would miss him like crazy. I would miss him getting all twitchy when I touched his butt, and when his eyes became distant as he worked through something in his head.
“You want me there?” he asked quietly.
“Of course I do.” I ended up coming across offended that he would question that. Maybe I was.
“Oh, well, I have to ask my parents.”
Amazing how the very mention of them could get me angry and worried. Those dicks probably wouldn’t want him to go. How dare he have fun when he didn’t have a ‘real job’? He should suffer all alone in his room for days. It was a miracle that he lasted as long as he did with such isolation. It was probably why there were literal voices in his head.
“You don’t have to pay for anything,” I told him. “Just bring some clothes. We’re all taken care of.”
“I hope they say yes.”
For some reason, I faked a smile even though I was all alone. “I hope so too.”
We hung up, and I went home to tell my parents the plan that had been worked out. All of our parents were on board. Even Riley’s, who we were sure were going to cause a problem. Wilson was having his dad run the shop for a couple days because he hoped it would make his father want to quit his job and work at the shop. He’d get more stable hours, and Wilson could use the help. But everything that needed to be figured out was figured out. Almost.
I got a call from Bennett about an hour before I planned on going to bed. His horrid parents said that he could go as long as he checked in a few times a day and didn’t sleep in the same room as me. I couldn’t do anything about the calling, but I could, out of spite, make sure we shared a room. Hell, maybe even a bed. Oh, that was a thought. A nice one that gave me all sorts of tinglies.
And that was why I took a bath at midnight.
do believe I’m rocking my footie pajamas. Mine were covered in little pink turtles, Riley’s were yellow and blue stripes, and Adalyn had white and blue checker boards—and her hat because she refused to take it off. Wilson was pleased with his win.
I probably looked dumb right about now, standing on Bennett’s porch in the pitch black early morning in footie pajamas, but I was cool with it. I waited patiently for him to come to the door.
He laughed for a good minute when he did, and I bowed for him. “Happy to please.” I turned around and wigged my hips. “I even have a fancy butt flap.”
Bennett laughed and cocked his head to look.
He had a bag slung over his shoulder which I had to fight him to let me carry. But he was distracted by the purple monstrosity that had parked on his street. I’d never seen a party bus before, but this one was so cool. Wilson knew a guy who lent it to us for the cause. And there was a fucking stripper pole in it. Awesome.
Once in the bus, I put Bennett’s bag with the others, and my sisters greeted him. Wilson yawned at the wheel and pounded the cocoa that Riley made him this morning. At the moment, she was giving him kisses for his efforts.
“Baby,” he said, raspy and cold. “I love you so much. But if you wake me up at this hour again, there is a chance I’m going to die. Just straight up fucking die. I can’t feel my fingers.”
“Aww,” she whimpered. She took his cocoa and put it down. Then she took his hands between hers and started rubbing them. He still looked miserable.
“Cool hat,” Bennett said, nodding to Wilson.
He referred to the old-school driver’s cap with devil horns on it. Wilson said he found it in the bus when he got the keys.
“Thanks, man. I think I’m going to die.” He smiled.
Riley made a face. “Let me get you breakfast.” She left him to scurry around the back of
the bus.
We all took our seats, and Adalyn offered a polite smile to Bennett. She was at the little table all by herself, sketching something from her head. She went to her own world when she drew, so I knew she wouldn’t be talking for a lot of this eighteen-hour drive.
Here we go.
So we all passed out. Riley stayed awake with Wilson, but I somehow ended up on the floor with Bennett. We were setting out a blanket, talking and eating one minute, then I was flat on him the next. Adalyn had her head on her table, drooling. She made these little sounds that weren’t really snores. More like growls. My sister growled in her sleep.
When I woke up, I had no will to move. I was too nervous to sleep the night before, and we had to get up so early. Bennett smelled really good, and he was comfy to sleep on. A dangerous thing, this boy. Though I did roll off of him eventually. My tummy had a rumbly that only Pop-Tarts could satisfy. I took a whole box and sat with them, going to town. My toes curled and uncurled in my pajamas, and I did nothing but watch them as I ate, dead-eyed as I shoved food into my mouth.
Bennett woke up soon after me, and his face was all smooshy with sleep. He could only squint, and he moved his tongue around in his mouth like he forgot to use it. I smiled and held out a bite of my food. He yawned, and took it.
“Morning, sweetheart,” I said. “Sleep well?”
His face was still all sleepy, and he scratched his head. “Hippos tried to steal my car.”
I pressed my lips together to hide my grin. “Did they?”
He nodded. “I don’t have a car.”
“I know,” I whispered and offered another bite.
We were only out for a few hours, and Wilson seemed far livelier when I saw him again. The cocoa must have kicked in. He had music on, and Riley sang to herself from the front seat. Wilson looked very amused at the whole thing.
