Spring hadn’t quite found them yet.
It was one of those cold muddling days, a month after the season started, when it still got dark at five thirty and the nights at home afterward dragged on interminably. He had one night off a week if he was lucky, one night that he should have gone home early, eaten dinner with his family. But every night was the same play; it could drive a guy batshit crazy. Alecia catered to Gabe, Gabe stayed locked up in his little world, Nate watched television. Alecia chased Gabe around the house with plastic chickens, or goats, or cows, or something else nonsensical, and tried to get Gabe to repeat his therapy successes for Nate. The bitch of it was, Nate didn’t really care. He didn’t see leaps-and-bounds progress he thought he was paying for, but he didn’t think that torture was a solution, either. Gabe ended up crying, Alecia would cry, and really all Nate wanted was one nice night at home with his son. Maybe catch a spring training game.
Nobody could blame him for mixing it up a little bit, staying late, grading some tests, reading crap on the Internet. There was no shortage of crap. He needed the escape, the downtime. The quiet, away from the field, away from the chaos of his house. Was that really so bad?
“Mr. Winters?” A soft voice, a knock at the door. Kelsey Minnow stood in the doorway, twirling a lock of hair around her index finger and looking past him at the whiteboard.
“Hi, Kelsey, come on in.” She was mad at him. She held a precalculus test in her fingers like a poison, the giant red D flashing back and forth. His rule was, anything less than a C had to have the problems reworked and you could turn the test back in for extra points. He did it in all his math classes, but the precalc kids bucked it the most. Most kids repeated the test, but in the upper levels, some didn’t out of laziness or disinterest or even spite. Kelsey was none of those; she wanted the extra points.
“I finished up the test, I wanted to turn it in.” She pushed the paper onto his desk. He picked it up, scanned it, and nodded.
“I’ll grade it and get it back to you. Thanks, Kelsey. I’m sure it’s fine now, but if not we’ll talk about it.” He smiled. She rolled her eyes at him and turned to leave.
“You’re welcome!” Nate called after her, trying to incite a laugh. She didn’t bite.
Lucia Hamm stood off to the side, her arms crossed over her chest, letting Kelsey flounce away. He couldn’t be sure, but he thought Kelsey muttered “witch” under her breath. Lucia shot her a look but Kelsey ran down the hall, shouting at someone to wait.
It was late, almost six o’clock. He didn’t remember staying at school until five thirty when he was in high school, and yet every night he seemed to have students hanging around until all hours.
“Lucia. Do you have a test for me?” He asked, not really expecting an answer. She didn’t move. He pushed his chair back, folded his ankle over his knee. “Everyone is looking for you, you know. They went to the paper mill, saw your stuff. Where have you been? You weren’t in school today.”
“You checked?” Her head bobbed up and down, her hair tangled in her face. Her skin was waxy, pale. He waved her in.
“Come in, please. What’s going on?”
“I have nowhere to go. Lenny is . . . I just can’t go home.” She shook her head. “Taylor thinks I’m a liar. That I’m a witch, casting a spell on Porter.”
“Porter?” Nate asked, surprised. Porter Max, Andrew’s best friend. “What does Porter have to do with anything?”
“You didn’t hear anything? About me?”
“Just that they were looking for you. Ms. Peterson, Taylor, the police.” Lucia’s head snapped up and her eyes narrowed. Nate stood, put his hand on her arm, tried to guide her to his desk. She stayed, standing in the middle of the room. He dragged up a chair. “Sit? Please?” Nate sat back down. Level playing field, see? He patted the chair again.
She shook her head. “How do I report that I’m being bullied?” She stuck out her jaw.
“Um, I guess you can tell me. We can go talk to Mr. Bachman together tomorrow. Or the guidance counselor. Whatever you want.” He couldn’t keep the incredulity out of his voice. She was being bullied? He knew her brother was an asshole. She didn’t have friends, except for Taylor. But the idea of Lucia being bullied didn’t jive. Avoided? Yes. Even feared.
Her tongue lapped at her lips, her eyes darting around the room. Nate wondered if she was on something.
She came up to him, close and sudden, smelling like campfire and cotton candy. Nate tried to stand but she put up a hand to keep him where he was.
“I want to show you something. A thing I do.” She reached down and took his hand and brought it up to her neck. She leaned back, partially sitting on his desk, and turned her head far to the right, her voice hitching a little mewl, her chest bobbing.
“Lucia—” Nate started.
She shh’d him and pulled her hair off to the side, guiding his hand behind her head. He felt the stubble then, the scab-pocked skin, the uneven tread behind her neck. His breath caught.
“Lucia, what is this, who did this to you?” When he stood and lifted up her mane of hair, her neck was red, bruised purple over brown. Large clumps of hair were missing from the bottom to the middle of her scalp, in various stages of regrowth. His skin bloomed hot. “Really, who did this to you? Was this Lenny? Your brother?”
It looked like it had been violently ripped out. It would have been bloody when it happened.
She turned, her hair dropping from his hands, her fingertips splaying on his chest, her chin dipped until he thought she would put her head on his shoulder, and he wondered if she was crying. He gripped her arms, begging her until he felt like a fucking idiot. “Is there anything else they’re doing? Are there other bruises? Lucia, this isn’t bullying, this is abuse. Really, tell me, who did this to you?”
She looked up at him, her lip caught between her teeth, her eyes wide, intense.
“Why do you care?” She whispered, her breath hot on his neck, and his body went still. His heart thumped. Twice, then seemed to stop.
“I care, Lucia. I do. I just . . . want to know. Is this your brother?” He all but whispered it.