Touching Melody

15

Maddie

Thanks For the Chat





Gina and I talk and talk and talk until we can’t talk any more. I tell her everything. About Kyle. About my parents. About my shrink named Abigail. I tell her about the tattoos, how they relate to the seven stages of grief. And show them to her.

Turns out she’s afraid of needles.

I’m an only child. And I always wanted a sister. Gina has taken the role. It took eighteen years. I can’t help but think of those cackling senior girls that put us together. Maybe they are smarter than I gave them credit for.

Gina is a foster kid. Raised in the system. She was dropped off at a homeless shelter when she was a baby. No note. No explanation. Her home life was a series of rejections, beatings, and starvation. When she turned eighteen a lawyer contacted her and informed her that a trust had been set up in her name. It was anonymous. The only condition on receiving the money was she had to graduate college. Which is why she’s here.

And I’m grateful.

“How often do you talk to your shrink?” Gina asks.

“Before I started college, it was once a week. I haven’t talked to her since getting here, though. What about you?”

“Sometimes daily. Luckily Luca is available 24/7.” She wriggles her eyebrows playfully.

“Luca? Is that your therapist's name?” I want to be clear. She’s giving off the vibe that there might be more than just talking going on between her and her shrink.

“Yeah. He’s the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome.”

I blanch.

“Don’t worry. Nothing’s happened. Yet. Luca says I put myself in dangerous situations so I’ll need more therapy. He isn’t wrong.”

It’s midnight, and she’s lying next to me on my bed. Kyle’s called two more times, but I keep pressing ignore. Gina hasn’t given me any crap about it. Just keeps raising her eyebrows and giving me questioning looks. I should text him. Ask him to stop. Probably even give back the phone.

But I’m too tired.

And I love the phone.

Another first. Thanks to Kyle. That hasn’t gone unnoticed.

“Why are you blaming Kyle for something his father did?” Gina blurts, giving me a sideways glance.

It’s a solid question. Even Abigail asked it when I first began seeing her. I know I shouldn’t. He didn’t pull the trigger. Make my parents bleed and die. He didn’t take them from me, leave me orphaned. My mom and dad actually liked Kyle. My mom teased me about him all the time. But he’s his father’s son. Who’s to say Kyle won’t become like him? Who’s to say he isn’t already like him?

My aunt and uncle used to argue constantly about Chief Hadley, about how he wanted to come after me. But Kyle’s dad never did. And two words always came up in their disputes: blackmail, revenge. I could never understand what they meant. Was someone blackmailing them? Did Chief Hadley want revenge? On me?

It seemed likely. I’d seen him with a gun in his hand, leaving my parents' house.

When I was fifteen, my aunt and uncle’s arguments abruptly stopped. Or they realized I could hear them, and kept their quarreling to times when I wasn’t around.

I didn’t want revenge. I wanted justice. To see Chief Hadley rotting away in a prison cell forever.

At some point I know he stepped down as the chief. A new man took his place. I asked my aunt what happened. All she said was, “He got what he deserved.” I asked what she meant, and she shushed me. Told me not to worry about it.

Now that I’m going to school with his son, I can’t help but worry, and wonder if I should research his dad on the internet. Something I’ve done a handful of times, and under the supervision of my aunt.

“Maddie?” Gina touches my arm.

“I don’t blame Kyle. I don’t.” I shake my head, realizing I mean it. “But when I see him, or I’m near him, I remember what his father did to my parents. And if his father is evil, well then…” I don’t finish the sentence. My body has rebelled against my mind. My aunt’s words, bad men raise bad kids, fling themselves through my thoughts. My body doesn’t believe it.

“You think Kyle is evil too.” She takes a deep breath, crossing her arms. “I get that. I do. Obviously my mom chose not to deal with her problems, and I’m the same way.” She sniffs. “But you should give Kyle a chance, especially if you feel so strongly about him.” She rolls on her side, faces me. Her eyes are the color of dark chocolate, and they’re staring at me intently.

I gasp, wishing I could let it all go. Close my eyes and forget. But I can’t. I’m not made that way. “I-I don’t know if that’s possible. Alcohol helps.” I snort, feeling ashamed for stating so bluntly my immediate weakness for the burning liquid.

Gina busts out laughing. “Yeah, it does. If only it didn’t have those nasty morning after side effects.”

“We should come up with something. We’d be world heroes.” I laugh with her.

Gina leans over and kisses my cheek. “Thanks for the chat.” She climbs off my bed and falls onto hers. “I’m sleeping straight through tomorrow. Wake me for class on Monday.”

“Night, Gina.”

Minutes later her breathing has evened out and I know she’s asleep. It doesn’t come as easily for me. I can’t help thinking about Kyle and my reasons for shutting him out. Without debating the consequences, I pick up my new phone and text Kyle.

Sorry. Roommate and I were talking. Thanks for the phone.

I stare at the screen for several minutes, waiting for him to respond. He doesn’t, and I roll on my side, pull my comforter up to my neck, and close my eyes.

I’ve been asleep either thirty seconds or three hours when the phone pings.

You’re welcome.