Emily’s leaving had me doing a lot of thinking. After all the shit she faced and brought all of us back through, she couldn’t do it anymore. That’s cool for her. But it made me think about myself and how I want to live. And I made a decision. It’s been days since I last wrote, and I decided that enough is enough. I’m done being a victim here. I’m getting on with my life. It was hell, but I went to classes yesterday, and I lived through them. Avoided the entire study room area and the dining areas where we used to always run into him. It seemed to work okay. Can’t really concentrate on school, but at least I’m in class. You have to start somewhere. Now that it’s been closer to two weeks, I think my body’s healed enough, and I called up Liam to see if he wants to skate with me. Talking to Jason recently really made me miss it. So we’ll go up to the skate park on 7th, if nobody’s there. I don’t really feel like a crowd.
“So how long has it been since you’ve been boarding?” Liam asked, as Morgan drove down the residential streets.
She glanced at him, trying not to be irritated. “A while, but I was snowboarding the week before…” she trailed off. “When you left me all those messages.”
“Yeah,” he answered, wishing conversation didn’t feel so awkward between them now. “So you’re gonna be able to do this? I mean, you’re ready?” Liam couldn’t deny he was a little hesitant at Morgan’s sudden interest in diving back into school, work, and skating, when she had lived the first week in a way that made sense to him. She stayed in, kept to herself.
“Why? Scared I’ll wipe the ramp with you?” she challenged, her eyes glittering.
“Seriously. You think you’re gonna school me? Never happened. Never will.” Liam smiled happily. This was the Morgan he remembered.
They arrived at the park, which was blissfully deserted, the way Morgan had hoped it would be - given the chill in the air. For her and Liam, though, it was never too cold unless it was actually snowing.
Morgan hopped on her board confidently, teetering on the edge of the bowl the ramp made. She hoped her nerves didn’t show. She wasn’t at all sure how her body would react to a sport.
Liam careened down ahead of her at top speed, while Morgan changed her mind and went over to the rails and jumps, deciding she wasn’t quite ready for plummeting yet. She’d been having enough falling dreams that plunging down the half pipe didn’t seem appealing.
“Jason did, like, a billion ollies the other day,” Morgan called, though she was sure Liam couldn’t hear her. “He’s getting so good.”
“Cool,” Liam called back, though he hadn’t heard a word she spoke. They always talked to each other when they skated, even when they couldn’t hear what the other said. They liked to hear each other.
Morgan went off a little jump and felt slightly exhilarated. She forgot how much she missed this. She rode rails and just skated around the blacktop. Today wasn’t about learning new or big tricks - it was just about skating - being out here again.
Time got away from them both, as it usually did when they skated, until Liam approached her, red-cheeked and breathless in his tee shirt and jeans.
“You know, it’s only, like, forty degrees, don’t you?” Morgan asked. She never skated in a coat, but had bundled up, wearing extra layers and gloves along with her hat. Liam, as always, had no regard for the weather, he just hated being hot.
“If you’re cold, we can head out,” he teased, though she could see goose bumps on his arms.
“I’m cool if you are,” she shot back.
Impulsively, Liam leaned toward her. Her eyes were so amazing, her hair, in that tail thing she always wore it in - even her baggy jeans looked sexy - like sexy royalty, he decided. They hadn’t kissed often, but every once in a while, if he caught her off-guard, he could sneak one in.
“Kiss me, Princess,” he invited, closing his eyes.
Morgan stumbled back, as nausea rose inside her, and her vision dimmed as she remembered the dark. Buddy’s kisses. His words.
Turning, she ran, stumbling off her board and leaving it behind.
“Morgan!” Liam called, surprised, and hurt that she was actually running from him.
She could hear him rush to catch her, and put her head down, determined to get to the car, and leave him behind. Morgan knew him well enough that without looking, she knew he was carrying both skateboards. It would slow him down. It had to.
Breathless, she got to the car, unlocked the door, and peeled out of the parking lot, leaving him behind. She’d barely gone a few blocks, when Morgan had to pull over, leaning out the door to vomit on the side of the road. Reaching back, Morgan took the hat off, and shoved her ponytail under it before she shut the door and started to drive again.
Blindly, she continued, oblivious to the tears that tracked down her face. She was only aware of the taste in her mouth that wouldn’t go away. Coffee, grease and sweat, and the way his hands had moved over her body, the pain, and the emptiness inside that Morgan felt sure should be filled by a child she had unknowingly sacrificed.
She parked in front of the rehab facility and rushed inside, glad that with everything else she had taken on, Morgan also visited Jess regularly, and knew where her room was as well as how she was progressing with speech and other skills.
Morgan found the door to Jess’s room propped open, the TV on softly inside. She heard the familiar voices of a children’s program Christian watched each day, and knew that Jess watched it not only to feel a connection with her son, but because it taught letter, number and small-word recognition - all skills Jess was adamant about mastering. After a week-and-a-half, it was startling to hear the progress she had already made with speech. She sounded almost as she had before, if slightly hesitant as she searched for a word here and there.
Jess turned and noticed her there, and her face broke into a big smile, despite the tears she saw on Morgan’s face. Jess was always glad for a visitor, and to be of some help, if she could. It made her remember how she used to be. And that made her desire to get better that much stronger.
Morgan’s phone vibrated in her pocket suddenly, and she jumped. Glancing at the display window, Morgan saw Liam’s name and flung it against the wall.
--
“Come on, Morgan!” Liam said, exasperated. He was cold, and now he was stranded without a car. She hadn’t picked up his call, hadn’t even slowed down on her way out of the lot.
Liam had no idea what happened. He knew he had to be careful about intimacy with her, and wasn’t about to go any further than they had discussed, months before - which was kissing. He knew better now than to grab her unexpectedly. But he hadn’t done that. She had been right there. She had seen him come at her, and seemed okay.
At a loss, he called the apartments. He, Morgan and Legend had gone to class that day. Legend had even dropped little Christian off at daycare again. But Liam knew Jonathan and Nate were both home, and both had wheels.
He called Jon first, thinking he might be more apt to want to pick him up than Nathaniel would, especially if he was in one of his cleaning moods. Nate had been a cleaning machine. His most-recent task was the cabinets, though Liam still couldn’t figure out what could be wrong with them. There was food there, right? Wasn’t that all that mattered?
“Aren’t you with your woman?” Jonathan quipped irritably. Words couldn’t describe his jealousy when Liam told him he was going “out” with Morgan - even though he knew their version of “out” was skateboarding. He didn’t have a girl to be out with anymore.
“Nah, she split,” Liam said breathlessly. “Took the car.”
“Damn! What’d you say?” Jonathan asked, smiling. He loved it when Liam got in deep with Morgan. It was just funny. He cackled and then hissed in pain as his face contorted with the action.
“I don’t even know. I was just gonna kiss her,” Liam explained, more confused than ever.
“Oh man,” Jonathan breathed, trying not to laugh because it hurt too much. “What’d you say to her?” he asked. He knew girls were really sensitive about what a guy said, and could take things the complete wrong way.
“Nothing,” he defended. “I mean, I called her Princess…” he admitted. Jonathan had a girlfriend. He knew about Liam’s pet names for Morgan.
Jonathan sobered. He was silent a minute.
“Jon? Hello?” Liam asked, wondering if the line had gone dead.
On the other end of the call, Jonathan clenched the phone tightly. The minute he heard what Liam had said, Jonathan felt his blood boil as he recalled Buddy asking for Morgan by that name before presumably raping her. His hand shook - he couldn’t do this - Jon decided. He was too revved up to just talk and not scream. All he would end up doing is knocking Liam into the next county the second he got his skinny ass in the door.
Jon covered the mouthpiece, not sure why he was saving Liam’s hearing after he was even unknowingly such an ass. “Nate!” he bellowed.
Nate stuck his head out of the kitchen where he was keeping busy organizing cabinets, and putting food in the right place after Liam and Jonathan repeatedly put it where it didn’t go. He tried not to laugh. It was really hard though, when Jonathan was all uptight about something. He was used to his demanding, snotty tone, and even found himself missing it, when Jonathan was sleeping and Nate lie awake so he wouldn’t be able to dream.
“Talk to Liam, and tell him I hope he freezes his damn ass off out there. I’m not going to get him,” Jonathan snapped.
Nate snatched the phone from Jon, all humorous thoughts long gone now. “What’d you say to piss him off?” Nate asked Liam coolly.
“I honestly don’t know!” Liam defended, pacing around to keep warm. “I was telling him how Morgan gave me the brush-off when I tried to kiss her. He asked me what I said to her,” he remembered. “And I said I called her Princess.”
Nate’s breath caught. “You shouldn’t have said that,” he managed quietly, blinking back tears, remembering the horrible sounds he heard when she disappeared behind the desk that final time. “He called her that before he raped her,” Nate told him evenly, though the tears had started to fall. Liam didn’t know, Nate reminded himself. But he had to.
Stunned, Liam sat down hard on the blacktop. “She took off,” he said woodenly, not able to believe that he had let slip something so horrible to the one he cared about more than anyone.
“I’ll call around,” Nate promised. “Call Legend and she’ll pick you up,” he added. “She should be picking up Christian, I think, so she’d be close.”
“Thanks,” Liam managed as guilt numbed him. He didn’t deserve a ride. He deserved to freeze. But he called Legend anyway.
--
Jess jumped a little as Morgan’s phone bounced off the wall and broke. Then, she just opened her arms and waited. She hadn’t been able to give near enough hugs lately.
Morgan came, sinking to her knees beside Jess’s bed, weeping helplessly into the blankets.
Gently, Jess stroked the hat Morgan wore, not knowing what was wrong, but praying she could do something to make it right.
“I’m sorry,” Morgan pleaded, not knowing why these were the words that poured from her mouth, except for the fact that Jess was a mother, and Morgan might have been one, if not for one horrible moment. She wanted absolution. This guilt was too much.
“Why are you sorry?” Jess asked quietly, continuing to touch the brown knit cap that hid all of her friend‘s hair. Morgan hadn’t done anything to hurt anyone that Jess could recall. Especially not her. They were close.
Morgan clutched at the fabric of her own jeans, and risked a glance at Jess. She saw only compassion. “I might have been pregnant,” she managed, tears streaking her face. “But I took that stupid morning-after pill, even though I didn’t know what it was at the time.”
Jess stayed silent, not sure how Morgan, who had such high moral standards, might have gotten pregnant. But she refused to judge. Especially when Jess herself had very nearly done that same - considering either abortion or suicide - much farther into her pregnancy with Christian, just after her dad kicked her out and disowned her.
“He raped me,” Morgan forced herself to say the words, knowing she had to - that all she didn’t speak was slowly killing her. “And I could have been pregnant with his child. But it would have been mine, too. Oh, God, I’m sorry.”
Slowly, the pieces came together for Jess. She had no firsthand memory of the events that happened in that room - and only vague earlier encounters with the person responsible, so Jess watched the news. She not only was able to find out in excruciating detail what had happened to her, but also, details on what happened to her friends. Because of that, Morgan and sexual assault were linked in her brain.
Compassion filled Jess as she put a hand on either side of Morgan’s face. “Do you think God would do that?” she asked. When Morgan thought too long, Jess answered for her. “He wouldn’t. He knew how hurt and…sad…you’d be, and He knew what would happen when they gave you that,” Jess told her, wiping Morgan’s tears away gently.
“You don’t know that for sure,” Morgan protested weakly. She didn’t know if she could stand all of Jess’s mercy and kindness in the face of how she’d been ruined - and how she had been sure she’d taken her child’s life.
Jess shook her head. “No, but I have faith.” She studied Morgan’s dark eyes for a minute, determined not let her own tiredness overtake her. This was more important. “What happened?” Jess asked. She knew something had to have occurred to send Morgan here in the middle of the afternoon. She was typically a night owl, and they enjoyed each other’s company when neither could sleep.
Morgan took a breath, as Jess scooted over in the bed to make room. She climbed in gratefully beside Jess, snuggling close. There was something about a mother’s touch - a gift that only Jess had to give - that was a comfort more than anything else could be. It was better, even, than having Morgan’s own mother there, because her own mother wouldn’t hug and cuddle a grown child this way. Only Alyssa was still hugged and allowed to snuggle.
When she felt secure and protected with Jess’s arm around her, Morgan spoke.
“Liam called me Princess” Knowing Jess didn’t recall any of what happened to them, she elaborated, though it was difficult. “It’s what Buddy called me…before he did that to me.”
“Morgan,” Jess said sympathetically, drawing her close. Not knowing what else to say, she told her simply, “A princess is a good thing to be,” and kissed her hat tenderly.
They sat together a long time - Morgan letting Jess hold her - until Jess broke the silence and asked if they should call anyone.
“Probably,” Morgan admitted, sitting up and reaching for the phone beside Jess’s bed before the realization hit her that she didn’t actually have anyone’s number memorized. They were all in her cell phone, which was in two pieces on the floor.
“I don’t have anyone’s number,” Morgan admitted. “They were all in my phone.”
Jess’s eyebrows furrowed, but she didn’t bother to ask questions. Some things just confused her. Like the idea of phone numbers somehow being inside a phone. “It’s okay. Legend left them for me.” Fumbling to open a drawer, Jess took out a paper with a neatly typed directory with friends‘ phone numbers. Jess didn’t say she couldn’t figure out what anything on the paper said because there was too many words and numbers too close together. She handed Morgan the paper, and picked up the phone herself.
“Tell me the number,” Jess was adamant when Morgan motioned for the phone. “I want to call.”
Amused at Jess’s insistence even now, to play the Mom card, Morgan slowly read off Liam’s cell phone number. “I can talk to him,” she said, thinking Jess would hand over the phone once the call was picked up.
Jess listened patiently, as she heard it ring over and over. Finally, Liam’s voice. “Hey, it’s Jess,” she told him.
“Jess?” he wondered, blowing into his free hand to warm it up. Legend had been sweet enough to pick him up, and now he sat in Coby’s car with her and Christian.
“Yeah, it’s me. Morgan just came by to visit. She’ll be home soon,” Jess promised, though she didn’t actually know what Morgan intended to do.
Liam blinked. “Okay, cool. You…sound good. How are you?”
“Hanging in there,” Jess admitted. “How’s Christian?”
Grinning, Liam looked in the rearview mirror, where Christian was sleeping - his head lolled to one side. Legend was already waking him up, saying his name in a sing-song voice. He would no-doubt be crabby later - not able to sleep well since being awakened by Emily’s nightmare, but this was more important.
Christian blinked and looked around. “Are we home?”
“Say hello,” Liam encouraged, handing him the phone.
“Hello?” Christian asked, rubbing his eyes.
Jess’s breath caught. She hadn’t heard that sweet voice in so long. “Hi, baby. It’s Mom.”
Christian’s eyes widened. He couldn’t make his voice talk.
“I miss you,” she told him. “What are you doing with Liam?”
“He’s just in the car,” Christian said softly. “And Legend’s driving. She’s doing a good job,” he added. Legend followed all the driving rules just like his mom. Sometimes, Coby didn’t, and it made Mom mad at him.
“That’s good. Are you being a good boy?”
“Mostly… I cried ‘cause I missed you,” he said softly. “And I dreamed the bad guy got you again. And Morgan came and sleeped on our floor one time and I did, too, ‘cause she was making these kind of sad noises.” Christian nodded to himself, remembering. He didn’t want Morgan to be sad then. And she stopped making the noises when he was next to her, so he stayed there until morning.
“Mmm,” Jess commented, looking at Morgan who was distracted looking at all the get well cards that hung on the wall. “That was nice of you.”
“When are you coming home?” Christian whined, even though his mom didn’t like it.
“I don’t know yet. But maybe one day, Legend can take you up to where I am, and you can watch me get better. Maybe you can help me.” she offered, wanting him to have something to look forward to.
After she hung up, Jess turned to Morgan, who had gathered up the broken pieces of her phone and stowed them in her pocket. “My son says you make sad noises in your sleep.”
Though Jess’s articulation had gotten a bit sloppy, as it did when she got tired, Morgan understood. “He was hearing things,” she decided, mortified that her subconscious could betray her like that. “I should probably go find Liam and apologize. Thanks…for everything.” Morgan said, embarrassed that she couldn’t convey how grateful she was without the possibility of more tears.
Opening her arms one more time, Jess invited Morgan in, and held her a long time.
“You get better and come home,” Morgan told her fiercely.
“I will. And ask Legend if she’ll bring Christian by some afternoon.”
Morgan left quickly, agreeing to pass on Jess’s message. She got to Liam’s apartment in record time, standing impatiently down at the doors, buzzing to be let in.
When Jonathan finally answered, Morgan made her way up the stairs two at a time, and pounded on the door.
Liam came and pulled the door open, startled to be staring down into the eyes of the woman he both loved - and had hurt - so deeply. “Morgan, I…”
Before he could finish, Morgan reached up and embraced him, laying her head on his chest.
--
When their Monday rolled around, Aaron always wondered how he was the one nominated to cook. Didn’t they remember the chili?
He knew Bryan could make lasagna good enough to be featured on some Italian cooking show. But he always balked when the day came. The ingredients were too expensive. Christian didn’t like it. He had a paper due.
Even Coby could handle making macaroni and cheese at least. When Aaron tried, the noodles turned to paste. But Coby had managed to do absolutely nothing with his bum leg. Only thing he did now was watch TV, occasionally with a beer “to go with the corn chips.“
Aaron’s eyes fell on the magnet that had saved his ass last time it was his turn. Pizza was always the way to go. Just a little dent in his wallet would take care of everything. Someone else did the cooking, and he was off the hook. Aaron even decided to be cool, given the crappy time they’d had recently, and ordered toppings everyone liked, and even sprung for orders of cheesy bread and chicken wings.
The girls and Christian arrived right on time, and he ushered them in the kitchen, where there was a stack of paper plates, and plastic cups, Aaron did his best to steer them away from the living room, where Coby was watching some bloody war movie with the volume all the way down. He had his chips and his beer, and Aaron wasn’t about to let the kid see his hero looking like a first-class loser.
“Sure a small group without Emily and Jess,” Bryan commented, ignoring Morgan’s elbow in his ribs. He knew it was hit-and-miss with the kid reacting to any mention of his mom, but Bryan wasn’t about to exclude Jess from conversation. She was a part of them.
“My mom said,” Christian exclaimed, trying to get Bryan’s attention while he head-locked Morgan, and she got out of it laughing. “Hey guys,” Christian tried again. “My mom! Said I could go see her sometime,” he said importantly.
When it was too loud for them to hear, Christian ran to the living room where Coby had chips and a shiny bottle like root beer came in at the good restaurants. “Hey,” Christian greeted, bounding onto the couch to sit beside Coby.
“Hey,” Coby said back. His voice sounded lazy, like he wasn’t going to move all night from that spot.
“Can I have a chip?” Christian asked. Coby held the bag out, and when Christian took two, he didn’t notice.
“You know what?” Christian asked, leaning close to Coby even though his breath kind of smelled. “My mom said I could go see her sometime. Isn’t that cool?” He waited, sure that Coby would agree with him.
But he didn’t say anything. He just stared at the TV where men with guns were shooting and other ones were bleeding and had gross stuff coming out of them, like the brain guy on Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles movies he got from Liam. “Ew.” Christian said, happy when somebody knocked at the door so he could answer it.
Liam came in first and even rubbed his head on their way to the kitchen. Jonathan came in next and had a big cut on his face.
“Did you get in a fight?” he asked, in awe.
But Jonathan just acted like he didn’t hear, even though his face and ears got red, like he was shy about it. Christian felt bad asking. Maybe it wasn’t polite.
Nate came last and he acted kind of strange too. He walked through the living room like Jonathan, and stopped to look at the bad movie Coby was watching. Nate looked like he was going to fall over, maybe, so Christian pushed on his legs to make him go to the kitchen. “Come on,” he told Nate importantly. “I’m gonna tell.”
Christian made his way in behind Nate and announced in a loud tattle-tale voice, “Coby’s watching a bad show! It’s got shooting and blood and somebody’s brain. Came out of their stomach.”
Legend set her jaw and marched into the living room, snatching the remote from Coby and turning the TV off. “We’re eating,” she said tersely.
Knowing better than to argue with Legend, especially when she was pissed off, Coby got off the couch and went to the kitchen. His friends sat spread all over the room. Their table wasn’t big enough to hold all of them. Christian was on the floor picking all his pepperoni off and setting it beside the plate.
Silently, he grabbed a plate and a slice of pizza. He stood at the counter, trying to balance on one leg and eating, though he wasn’t hungry.
Morgan sat on the counter nearby, kicking her heels against the cupboards. She tried not to be upset at Aaron. He couldn’t know how disgusting and revolting it was for her to smell pizza, or be faced with having to eat it. After Buddy, she doubted she would ever eat it again.
Her eyes moved around the room slowly, and she could see immediately that herself, Libby and Nate were the only three having trouble with the meal. Everyone else seemed perfectly content.
Nate sat at the table with two slices in front of him and a determined expression on his face as he ate. She didn’t understand that. She could see by the pallor of his face that Nate wasn’t okay - that he wasn’t tasting the pizza. He was tasting Buddy.
Hopping off the counter, Morgan made herself walk over to where he sat, and whispered to him. “You don’t have to eat that. We can go get something else.”
“No, it’s fine,” Nate denied. The pizza slithered around in his mouth like a living thing, reminding him of Buddy’s tongue. He took a drink of water, forcing himself to swallow. To not give into the urge to vomit. He’d held off before, he could do it again.
At the sound of Liam’s voice, Morgan turned. He was sitting with Libby at the table, coaxing her to eat. Morgan’s stomach lurched at the unfairness of the request, as Libby shook silently, pushing the plate away from her and laying her forehead on the table in defeat. Morgan knew Libby was crying.
Across the kitchen, Coby’s quiet curse drew their attention, as he left the room - the sight of Libby breaking down, apparently too much for him.
Eventually, the pizza was put away, and Morgan was grateful. Nathaniel had looked absolutely gray after the meal and had excused himself to the restroom afterward, where Morgan was sure he’d been sick. His color had changed to sort of greenish. Libby hadn’t even managed one bite.
Nathaniel and Libby sat close to each other holding hands in the living room. Nate couldn’t get comfortable, even on the couch. His body had started to throb. He squeezed Libby’s hand, offering her a corn chip from the discarded bag as he heard her stomach grumble.
She took one, but couldn’t bring herself to eat it. Nate didn’t press her.
Morgan took her turn in the bathroom after Nate vacated, to wash the greasy feeling off her face. What she really wanted to do was shower, but not here.
Stepping out into the hall made Morgan wish she had kept the door closed. The smell of coffee brewing assaulted her senses, making her feel numb and out of control.
Moving quickly through the kitchen, Morgan saw Libby with her face in her hands, and Nate looking shell-shocked, fidgeting with the leg of his jeans, one arm across his lap. He held Libby’s hand in his free one. It was only now that Morgan noticed Libby’s purple shirt and old jeans looked clean. And so did she. How cruel that she should finally bring herself to face her body and wash the only clothes she felt comfortable in only to have triggers all around that Morgan knew made her feel dirty and unsafe.
“Come on.” Morgan rushed at them, ignoring how Nate flinched as she grabbed the back of his shirt and hauled him up, taking Libby with them.
Morgan pulled them both outside, where they stood together in the dark chill. She smoked, and Libby wept. Nathaniel put his arms around them, hugging the girls close enough that all their heads knocked together.
“This is the worst meal ever,” Libby objected pitifully.
Morgan blew out a puff of smoke, “I know, and I’m starving.”
“You said we could go out. Well, maybe not out…but could we drive thru somewhere?” Nate asked hopefully.
Morgan nodded, grinding out the cigarette butt with the toe of her sneaker. “Let me tell Legend where we’re leaving.” Morgan said until she remembered she didn’t have her cell phone anymore. “Shit. And there’s no way I’m going back in there.”
Nathaniel pulled his own phone from his pocket. “Legend? Yeah, we’re still here, but me, Libby and Morgan are taking off. Got a craving for shakes,” he said, happy when both girls nodded in approval.
The three of them piled into Nate’s car, and drove thru at a local fast food joint, ordering three large shakes that they ate together in the parking lot. Nate stirred his with a spoon, not caring that it made him colder than he already was.
They didn’t speak.
They didn’t need to.
--
Coby sat at the bar. He had taken his car from Legend, who had driven herself and the kid over. He knew she was going to be pissed when she found it missing. Especially since he hadn’t seen the little seat in back until he was at the bar.
He looked sadly at the shot in his hand. He lost count of how many he’d had, and it made him dizzy to try and count the glasses. So he had stopped.
Not many of his friends knew he was a drinker. And he wasn’t, really, Coby assured himself. But when things got bad, at home or otherwise, once he hit twenty-one, the bar was the first place he’d go. Blake had even given him the nickname JD - Jack Daniels - which Coby hated. Blake had started partying too - even using Coby’s drinking as an excuse.
He heard his little brother’s words echo in his head. “You do it and it’s no big deal!”
And then, his own response, “You don’t want to be like me.”
Coby didn’t even want to be himself right now, but it didn’t stop him from downing another shot. Things were so screwed up. Jess was up in some rehab hospital. His leg was screwed up, only now, he didn’t get to have the fun painkillers to take the edge off. He’d driven with one foot for both pedals, and somehow got there unscathed.
Everything was so screwed up. Libby couldn’t eat a damn meal. And Morgan thought he was someone to be praised for shoving her to the ground, for holding her back, when what he should have done was gone up there himself and knocked the guy’s block off. Not allowed him in the room at all. Then Emily would still be here. Libby, Nate and Morgan wouldn’t have gotten used like they had. Jess wouldn’t have spent three days in a coma and too many in rehab. Christian would have his mom back home with him, where she belonged.
Tears fell down his face and Coby let them. He deserved this sadness.
--
“Where the hell is he?” Bryan seethed. “It’s bad enough he takes off in the car Legend drove, with Christian’s car seat in it, so Bryan had to drive them himself. It’s after midnight and his damn phone is off!”
Aaron didn’t say what he was thinking. That it was only midnight, and Coby was a grown-ass man. He could come and go as he pleased. And if this had happened a couple months ago, he and Bryan would have gone to bed, not caring where he was.
‘Did you call around?” There. Aaron finally settled on a suitable question.
Bryan ran a hand through his hair. “Everywhere I could think of. No one’s seen him.”
“You call his dad?” Aaron wondered, propping his foot up. He’d paced enough so that it really hurt, now that he could bear some weight on it.
Sighing, Bryan threw his hands up. “I’m not calling his dad to tell him that we don’t know where his son is.”
Aaron shrugged. “Call Blake then,” he decided.
“He’s the last person I want to call,” Bryan protested. He remembered the last conversation he had with Coby’s brother, and it wasn’t a good one. “And it’s late.”
“Okay. He might know where he is, though. And that’s a lame excuse. They’re in Mountain Time.” Aaron clarified. “I’m going to bed. If you don’t find him in a couple hours, wake me up.”
Once Bryan was alone, he knew he didn’t have any choice, and opened the cupboard where he had taped their directory, scanning it for Blake’s number.
“What’s up?” Blake answered.
“It’s Bryan Torres. Any idea where your brother might go?”
“He’s gone?” The younger voice registered vague concern. “Was he normal, or like, pissed off or sad? If he was normal, you should get the cops over there, but if he was the other two, your best bet’s the local bar.” Blake told him honestly.
Blinking, Bryan shook his head. “You’re not serious.”
“Yeah, I am! What kind of friends are you anyway? You obviously don’t know shit about him. When he’s stressed or upset he always goes and gets hammered. Then he comes back, has a hangover and gets over it.”
“All right, thanks.”
“Call when he’s home, would you? Not that I care…” Blake amended.
“I will,” Bryan promised.
Grabbing his coat, he scribbled a note for Aaron, in case he got up, and took off for the nearest restaurant with a bar and grill.
Bryan found the car without much trouble, still parked in the lot of the first place he checked. He went in quickly, glancing around for Coby’s dark leather jacket, but didn’t see him. He checked the bathroom. Finally, Bryan went back to the lot, peering in the window of Coby’s car.
He was there, sprawled across the back seat, either passed out or sleeping. He tapped on the window, relieved when Coby started awake, and then waved him away.
“Open the damn door,” Bryan demanded. Hell if he was going to leave a buddy drunk in the parking lot, sleeping in his car.
Because Bryan wouldn’t shut up, Coby obeyed, unlocking the door he was closest to.
“You’re lucky your brother knows you better than we do,” Bryan muttered between clenched teeth. “Where are your keys?”
Fumbling in his pocket, Coby produced them and struggled to hand them over the seat. “Leg hurts like a bitch,” he swore, as fresh pain ripped through it.
“Lucky for you, you won’t be taking anything for it,” Bryan muttered darkly.
Coby moaned. “You’re a moody bastard tonight,” he commented mildly. “What do you mean I wont be taking anything for it? How the hell would you know?”
Rolling his eyes, Bryan started the car. “You don’t mix alcohol and pills. We had this conversation once already. I wouldn’t expect you to remember.”
“Good, ‘cause I don’t. Oh, shit,” he managed as they turned a corner. Leaning his head over the floor of the back seat, Coby blew chunks until he thought his head would explode.
Bryan put the windows down and drove. He called Blake on the way, knowing he wouldn’t want to do it when they were back.
It was an hour later, and Coby had spent most of it with his head in the trash can puking. Bryan sat with him, even though Coby knew he had a paper due and a big test in a few hours.
He was helpless to stop the tears when they came. Bryan looked shocked as Coby went on and on about how he should have done better by all of them - protected them from that asshole.
Bryan put his arm around Coby. “You did right,” he reassured over and over. “All of us got out alive. We might not have otherwise.”
Coby couldn’t think of anything to say to that, so he just put his head back and tried to sleep off the horrible place he’d put himself in.
No amount of reassurance helped his frame of mind. But a friend who didn’t leave when he was in deep like this - Coby thought, feeling Bryan’s hand on his shoulder - that was something.
--
“This is where your mom and these other people work hard to get better,” Legend explained to Christian as she showed him the rehab room.
His eyes wide and impressed, Christian looked at everything. His mom was on her way, Legend said, and this room looked like a lot of fun. There was a giant bouncy ball, some fun-looking monkey bars, a fake store, and really big tables that looked good for relaxing. His favorite thing he saw was a green thing of clay stuff. Christian hoped his mom could play with that.
“When your mom comes in, she might look different,” Legend warned. To her, Jess’s appearance had been very different the first time she’d seen her. Even now, Jess looked like she had physically shrunk. She was more pale than usual, and her eyes had lost some of their sparkle. “And it’s very important for us to be quiet while she’s working, okay?” Legend added.
He nodded seriously. Christian knew all about that. His mom always said he should be quiet so she could do her homework.
Jess was wheeled in then, and her eyes lit up when she saw Christian.
Legend was grateful to have been holding the little boy’s hand the way he tore off for his mom. She was afraid he could have hurt her, so Legend held him back at her pace.
“Be gentle,” Legend encouraged, as Christian gave his mom the biggest hug he could and not hurt her.
He buried his face in her hair. It didn’t smell the same. It smelled like this place - important and scary. But it was still his mom. “I came to see you,” he told her, breaking into a big smile.
Jess nodded, trying not to cry. He had grown so much. “I love you, baby.”
Christian nodded, getting comfortable on her lap, and taking a special ride with her in the wheelchair. “I can be your cheering section. Except quiet. ‘Cause the other people have to work hard too, right?”
“That’s right,” Jess answered, happy that Legend had given him such good directions.
Standing by the wall to watch, Christian felt big and important. He was the only four-year-old there. Everyone else was big people. When his mom did the first thing, he squeezed Legend’s hand. “What’s she doing?” he asked, using his best indoor voice.
“She’s going to tell the lady what those are pictures of,” Legend explained patiently.
Christian took a step closer. “You can do it, Mom.” He nodded at her, feeling sure she could.
Jess smiled. This was the part of therapy she hated more than anything else, because it was the hardest for her. Her speech had come back well, but naming things, and associating words with other words was still really hard. With Christian and Legend there as her cheering section, Jess vowed not to get frustrated and keep trying no matter what.
Fruits and vegetables. Jess set her jaw. She could do this.
She looked at the first picture. It showed a yellow skinny thing that looked like a smile, but Jess had no idea what it was called. She searched her brain.
Christian pulled on Legend’s hand. “That’s a banana,” he told her quietly. His mom used to know what bananas were. But now she didn’t because the bad guy made her forget.
“That’s right. Now let your mom try.” Legend said, patting his hair.
Jess’s brain swam with all the uses for the strange-looking thing. First and foremost, she knew that Christian hated them. She heard his complaining voice in her head, and smiled.
“Banana,” she said, and felt both proud and embarrassed at Christian’s encouragement and pride.
“If they showed her spaghetti, she would know what that is, huh?” Christian asked, looking up at Legend.
“I don’t know. Maybe,” Legend offered optimistically.
She watched in amazement as Jess named cauliflower and kiwi with no trouble, and then stumbled on potato.
“Tomato…” Jess hedged softly. She didn’t want Christian to hear her fudging the names of fruits and vegetables of all things. She didn’t want to be a disappointment to him, when he was such a source of pride to her.
Christian stepped up and stood beside her chair. He laid a hand gently on hers. “Good try. That’s almost right,” he nodded, ignoring the card lady trying to get his mom’s attention back. “It starts with puh.”
“Puh…” Jess started, trying to think. Christian had to be right. “Potato!” The word fell out of her mouth like it had been there all along.
“Yes!” Christian yelled, pumping his fist. “My mom is the winner!” He threw his arms around her neck.
That’s when Jess knew it didn’t matter to Christian what she knew or didn’t know. He would love her unconditionally. He felt the same about her as she did about him.
He didn’t care if she got them all right, he was just proud that she tried.
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