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“I’d find a way.”
“If you leave, you’d never get another dime from me.”
“I’d rather live on the streets and work as a sex worker than to marry that guy.”
Slap.
Oh, hell no. I burst down the hallway, ready to fight. No way will I allow him to raise another hand to her. Cassie holds the side of her face with tears pricking her eyes. Coach stands in bewilderment as if he can’t believe what he just did. I place myself in front of Cassie as a shield. If he’s going to hit anyone, he can hit me—Cassie’s off-limits.
“You need to calm down, sir,” I say.
Coach draws his eyes from his hand and directs them to my face. “I-I . . .” He closes his eyes and hangs his head in shame. He doesn’t say a word as he pivots and heads to his bedroom.
Once he disappears behind his door, I turn to Cassie. “Are you all right?”
She nods. I remove her hand and assess her face. Welts are starting to form, but she shouldn’t bruise. I walk her to the edge of the kitchen.
“I’m going to grab a bag of frozen peas.” I don’t leave her side until she nods. With the bag in hand, I place it against her cheek and guide her to her bedroom. She’s silent the entire way.
I walk her to her bed. She sits on the edge with such a dejected look on her face it kills me.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve come out sooner.” I should’ve protected her. Instead of giving them space to air out their grievances, I should have gone to her.
“I wouldn’t have said the things I needed to say if you were there.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She shakes her head.
“It’s okay.” I hold her tight. Even though their argument was heated, her dad does love her. The man is strict and can be an overbearing asshole, but he’ll never abandon her, no matter what he says. He’ll always be there for her. I see the adoration in his eyes every time he looks at her. He just doesn’t show it through actions.
“I should get back to my room.”
“Don’t go.” She clutches me tighter.
“I won’t.” How can I leave her? I can’t. If she needs to hold me all night, I’ll be here for her. I would worry about her dad checking in on her, but I doubt he’ll leave his room before morning. He may have been remorseful, but he’s also too proud to apologize tonight. Cassie’s arms haven’t left my waist while she leans against me with tears spilling from her eyes. The sound of her ragged breath fills the silence. We remain like this until her sobs slowly fade.
I glance around the moonlit room until I find a T-shirt draped over her desk chair. “Let’s get you into something more comfortable.”
She remains quiet as I slip her sweater combo off. I leave the bra intact. I don’t want to take that big of a risk. After changing, we lie on her bed, and she snuggles next to my body. As we lie there spooning, I trace circles on her bare arm. After tonight’s fiasco, there isn’t any way I can talk to her dad. If I want to be with her, I’ll have to continue sneaking behind his back. What choice do I have? I can’t not be around her. She’s everything to me. And I’ll do anything to be with her.
Her breathing slows to an even pace until she eventually falls asleep.
“It’ll be okay, Choir Girl. It may not seem like it, but your dad would never abandon you.” Her soft snores let me know she didn’t hear a word I said, but those thoughts lay heavy on my mind as I drift into memories I’d rather forget.
“Dalton, do you need a ride?” Marty’s mom asked. Marty was my best friend.
I shook my head because Mom should be here soon to pick me up. She was late, but she always ran late on the days she and Dad fought. Mrs. Johnson frowned, but she shuffled Marty away.
I waited and watched as the other kids got picked up one by one.Where was she?The last school bus pulled away, and she still hadn’t come. I never watched the buses pull away before. I went and sat on the stairs. I hugged my knees, trying to hold back tears. Tears were for pussies. That was what Dad said. But I made him mad. And I made Mom mad. She said it was always my fault.
“Dalton, is your mom coming to pick you up?” the principal asked.
I looked up at Ms. Jenkins. She has kind eyes, even for a busybody. That was what my mom called her.
“She’ll be here. She’s just running late.” I clutched my backpack tighter and waited.
And waited.
