I need to be at the shelter until 6 so I’ll just drive myself since it’s out of your way to come pick me up.
Me
I don’t mind. We can be a little late.
Pretty Girl
We both know if you’re late Elena will never let you hear the end of it.
I laugh at the thought of us showing up late to my mother’s party and the hell that would ensue.
Me
She’ll forgive you for it at least
Pretty Girl
Well because I’m perfect in her eyes
Me
Not just hers
The bell rings and I swear under my breath, not wanting to walk away from this conversation. But there are very few moments until Trevor walks through that door, and I owe him my full attention.
Me
Okay so meet on Thursday at their house around 6:30. I’ll let my mom know you’re coming separately
Pretty Girl
6:30 it is. See you then
The disappointment that runs through me with the lack ofI love youat the end makes it hard to breathe for a minute—fear that I really have lost her for good.
I shake my head to try to dislodge those thoughts before they can run wild, place my phone on my desk, and sit back. The sounds of students walking around and the chatter that follows them hits my ears, the warning music playing softly overhead to let students know they only have two minutes to get back to class.
I’m about to return to my paperwork when a mess of brown hair enters my office, head down and quick steps bringing Trevor barreling into my office and slumping into the chair in front of my desk with a huff. It takes my brain a second to process what I’m seeing. Trevor’s arm, in a sling. The blue material covers over a heavily bandaged arm in black casing.
I see red when I get a good look at him. I know that lookon his face that he is about to try to feed me lies about what happened. Trevor is very good at wearing a mask if you don’t know exactly what to look for. But it’s hard to mask around someone who perfected that look years before he was born.
“What happened?” I ask, trying to keep my voice even and the anger shoved as far down as it will go.
“I fell at work,” he replies, stone-faced, as if that’s the least interesting thing he has heard all day.
“How?” I lean forward to rest my hands on my knees, remembering to keep my body language open and engaged with him. I’m hoping that extra prodding from me today doesn’t send him shutting down and shutting me out.
He fucking shrugs at me.
“How did you fall and break your arm, Trevor?”
“I just fell at work, okay? Can you leave it alone?” he spits.
“I can’t leave it alone, Trevor. Not when you come into my office with new bruises telling me you fell or slipped. I want to help you, and I cannot do that until you are honest with me,” I try to reason, getting up from my chair and coming around to the other side of the desk and sitting in the one next to Trevor. I close the door from my chair and let the silence envelop us. “Tell me what’s going on, and I will help you.”
As the silence surrounds us, I can hear his breaths coming faster than before and notice the small fidgets of his fingers around his new cast. My eyes land on the cast, sending a bolt of fury through me.
“I’m fine.” A small voice rips out of him, full of agony.
