My stomach tumbled.
And I also really liked Jayden. He had always been kind to me, even when he really had no idea who I was. I wasn’t sure how I could help him or if it was even in my power to help.
“So tell me about Hector. I want to know everything about him.”
I cocked my head to the side. “Thought you didn’t like him?”
“I don’t have to like him to be all up in his business from a distance.” Ainsley grinned.
I smiled. “I don’t know a lot about him. He...works at McDonald’s part-time, and he’s...nice.”
“Nice?” She laughed as she tossed her hair back. “You should’ve heard what he was saying about me, in front of me. He’s a jerk—a dirty-minded, perverted jerk-face.”
I stared at her.
“But he is hot,” she added with a sly grin. “There is that.”
I nodded in agreement. “How’s Todd?”
Her eyes rolled. “Boring. Snobby. I don’t want to talk about him, because there is something we do need to talk about.” Ainsley glanced at my closed bedroom door. Carl and Rosa were somewhere downstairs. “You’re dating Rider now, right? You’re his girlfriend and don’t you have Homecoming soon? Your first dance!”
I winced. “We...haven’t even talked about that.”
“You can talk about it now.”
“I don’t know,” I responded.
She raised a brow. “You should at least ask if he wants to go. It’s kind of like the normal thing to do,” she said, lowering her voice.
I nodded, liking the sound of that. “I want to be normal.”
Her mouth opened and then her nose scrunched. “Okay. Pause. Normal is subjective, and you are normal, Mal.”
I wrinkled my nose.
“What? You don’t talk a lot and sometimes you occasionally freak out. How does that make you abnormal? There are tons of people out there like that.” She threw her hands up. “So what? And you came from foster care—a crappy foster home, but again, unfortunately that’s also not unusual. That doesn’t make you weird.”
I started to explain that I was weird, but I stopped myself. Ainsley had a point. I didn’t have a common childhood and I didn’t talk, but that didn’t make me some strange, unknown creature.
Ainsley knew a lot about my childhood. She knew it had been rough for me and Rider, and that I’d been burned, but there were things I hadn’t told her. Stuff that I had only ever talked to Dr. Taft about. Things Carl and Rosa knew, because they’d seen the police reports and my case file.
My gaze swung around the room, settling on the owl soap carving before coasting over my neat desk and the thickly cushioned window seat. This bedroom was so different than the ones in that house. Clean, bright and airy. Welcoming.
The back of my throat dried as I looked at Ainsley. Never in the past had I wanted to tell her the things I never talked about, but the need blossomed, burning through my stomach and chest.
I forced my tongue to become unglued from the roof of my mouth. “I have...a problem with noise and talking.” Heat flooded my cheeks as I lowered my gaze to the pillow I held. It was hard to explain why a dance might be too much. “I had to be quiet, because Mr. Henry didn’t like...noise. He didn’t like a lot of stuff, but staying quiet kept me out of...trouble for the most part.”
Ainsley stilled, quiet.
Drawing in a deep breath, I continued. “Rider would always...tell me ‘not to make a sound’ so...I couldn’t be found when Mr. Henry was drunk or when I...did something wrong. Sometimes, he would get mad if I ate cookies or...walked up the stairs too loudly. He never liked it if I spoke. And I...I guess—I know that’s why I don’t like to talk and I don’t like noise. The therapist I saw used to say it was post-traumatic stress syndrome...and conditioning.” The heat lessened as I continued. “Anyway, the night...I was burned, something else happened.”
She didn’t know how I was burned, so I told her. It was rough and painful to get out. The room was so quiet, even with the TV on low in the background, I could hear a cricket sneeze. I told her about Velvet and how much I treasured the doll Rider had stolen for me, no matter how old I got. I explained how a few weeks before, Mr. Henry had gotten mad over something insignificant and had taken the doll, stashing it in plain sight, really just to taunt me. I told her how Mr. Henry had tossed Rider outside after he’d asked if we were having dinner that night.
“He...threw the doll in the fireplace,” I explained, smoothing my hands over the pillow. “I didn’t think. I reached in...and tried to grab it. That was how I burned...my arms.”
“Oh my God,” she whispered.
“I know it sounds stupid, but Velvet was the...only thing that was mine. It never belonged to anyone but...me. I just panicked.” I shook my head. “But before that, I...tried to get Miss Becky to wake up. She always...liked Rider. I thought she would step...in.”