“Good,” she says.
“And we were doing the Hightower girl’s retouch.”
“I’ve got it from here. Mom’s waiting in the car.”
“You got a set of my keys?”
“I do.”
“Great. See you tonight ’cause I know you’ll still be up when we get home, vampire.”
She makes a hissing vampire noise and he laughs, pats her head, and heads out.
When she turns back to me, I realize that I’ve forgotten to hide my face in all their stepfather/daughter love. She’s across the room in three strides and holding my chin in her hand to examine the damage. “Jesus, Tyler. What the hell happened? Did you get in an accident or something?”
I jerk my head from her grip and turn away, but she ducks under my arm and gets in front of me. “Seriously. Have you been to the hospital? That looks awful.”
“Heads bleed a lot. So they also bruise a lot,” I say.
She stares me down till I meet her eyes. Without a word spoken between us, she knows what’s happened. I see it as soon as she gets it.
“That son of a bitch.”
I have to sit down—this is too big a conversation for standing—but there are no chairs, so I plop down on the floor, resting my back against the wall. She joins me on the side my bruised eyebrow’s on.
We don’t speak for a while. I feel her examining me.
“I tried to wear makeup tonight,” I say.
Then we both laugh.
“I bet Henry got a kick out of that.”
“Oh, he did.”
“You don’t have to tell me what happened. Unless you want to.”
“Is that your way of asking what happened?” I turn toward her, my head still leaning against the wall.
She smiles sheepishly.
“Coach called him and told him about the fight at the game.”
“What was that fight about anyway?”
“You know Brett McPhearson?”
She nods. “Yeah, with the annoying head tick.”
“That’s the one. He kind of got my spot when I quit the team.”
“As running back?”
“You know what I played?” I ask, amused.
“I’m not a complete loser, you know. I have gone to a few games.”
“I seriously can’t picture it.”
She shoves me with her shoulder and I wince.
“Shit. Did I hurt you?” She’s turned her whole body to face me now.
I sigh and then I lift my shirt up to show her my ribs.
“Tyler! You’ve got to report him.”
“No. What I have to do is wait it out till my birthday. If they can’t keep him in jail, it’ll just make it worse. And I don’t know if I can control myself. I might kill him. And if they can keep him, they’ll make me go live at some home or something till I’m eighteen.” I turn to face her, grabbing her arm. “Seriously, you have to promise you won’t tell anyone.”
She looks stunned. “Okay.”
“I mean it.”
“I promise.”
I let go of her arm but hold eye contact. I think I can trust her. She rubs her arm where I grabbed, making me feel a little guilty. “Sorry—it’s just . . . I can’t go to a home. That’s way worse than a few bruises.”
“I get it.”
We sit in silence for a minute until she finally gets the courage to speak again. “Your ribs might be broken. I think you should go to a doctor.”
I let out a bitter laugh. “That would require health insurance. Or money.”
“Your dad must have health insurance.”
“Never said he didn’t.”
“And his plan covers you.”
“No. I was on my mom’s plan. When she died, the social worker told him he’d have to make arrangements for me, but as soon as she left, he laughed and said I was on my own and I’d best not get hurt or sick till I could afford it.”
“Jesus,” she says.
“You don’t know the half of it. He won’t give me a dime. I have to pay for my food, my shampoo, my gas, my car insurance, my fucking toilet paper.”
“He can’t do that.”
“But he can. If I make a fuss about it, he’ll just make things worse for me.”
She watches me carefully for a long time. We don’t break eye contact. “Well, shit,” she finally says.
“Tell me about it.”
And suddenly we’re like we used to be when we were in fifth grade. Talking and . . . whatever. I’d forgotten how good that feels.
She’s going to tell Henry that she needs to not work at all during the week because of school, so I can take all her shifts. She even offers to pay me back for the jacket.
“Absolutely not. It was completely my fault Sheila did that to your old jacket. This was a gift. You just say ‘thank you’ and appreciate the hell out of it. Also, maybe don’t ever wear it to school.”
She smiles. She knows I won’t back down. “Fine. But we’re definitely carpooling to school from now on. And now that I know every time you drive you have to starve, I will not take no for an answer.”
“Deal.” We shake on it.
It’s so strange how much lighter I feel.
NINETEEN