Stronger than You Know (14 page)

TWENTY-SIX

Boys

The fire is lit in the den. The door is open—the rule when I have a guy over. The bizarre thing is that I like the rules. They mean someone's watching out for me. I'm well aware that I'm probably the only sixteen-year-old who doesn't mind strict guardians.

Justin's fingers move easily up and down his guitar, and I love his face in this state of concentration. He stops and folds his arms over the top, drops his chin on his hands, and rests his eyes on me.

“Why did you want to talk to me?” I ask.

“What are you talking about?”

“When we first met on the sidewalk, you said you'd wanted to talk to me since I came to school but were afraid to. Or something like that.”

“You were quiet, didn't look at anyone, but I could see in your eyes that you were thinking. A lot. I wanted to know what you were thinking about.”

His answer is more profound than I expected. “I've been holding on to something I did for you.” I reach into my back pocket for the drawing I did of him and his sister. It's creased since it's been tucked in there for a while.

“Really?” He sets his guitar aside, and I hand the drawing to him.

He unfolds the paper and stares.

“You did this?” His eyes are wide. “You put me to shame.”

“No!” That's the opposite of my intention. “We have different styles, that's all. I'm all angles.”

“I draw all the rounder edges when you find all the angles.” He's still studying the drawing. “I didn't know you drew.”

“No one knows. Well, my mom knows.” Me telling Justin something about myself I haven't told anyone from my new life feels like a giant leap to being as close to him as I think I want to be. “This was the first time I felt like drawing in a long time. I want to do one for everyone here, but I don't know if they'll get it. Me. You know, my style, or if the drawings would just be silly.” Even the thought of doing something so personal makes me want to fold up into myself.

“They wouldn't think it's silly.” His eyes are still on the sketch.

“I've held on to it for a while.”

“Do you have pictures from when you lived with your mom?” he asks.

“The police have those. I drew some of the people she had over and …” I'm about to reveal too much information.

“You don't have to say anything, Joy. It's okay.” He looks at me over the picture.

I stare at the fire, more blue tonight. “Some of the people Mom brought over were worse than her, and she never really did anything to stop them.” I let out a breath of air. Giving information about my past is getting easier. Slowly.

His fingers reach out for mine, and he laces our hands together. “Thank you. You know, for sharing. You're good for me.”

“I'm
good
for you?”

“It's like … calm around you. That's good for me.”

“Really?” Because I feel stressed out most of the time.

“I guess I look at what you've done after a tough past, and I feel like a prick for being a jerk the last couple of years.”

I stare at our hands together. Such a simple thing that feels so good. “Thanks for listening.”
And still being here, even though I'm still crazy, may always be crazy. And even though all I can bring myself to do is hold your hand when I'm pretty sure you'd like another kiss.

TWENTY-SEVEN

Back to the lists

Reasons Joy
isn't
crazy—

• She can sort of keep up with Daisy sometimes
  
• She does kung fu in a room full of men who are learning martial arts and they're all loud
  
• She talks to Justin, holds his hand, and shared a little bit of her past with him
  
• She's drawing again
  
• She's falling in love.
  

TWENTY-EIGHT

Not sure yet

The tall blond guy who's a friend of Trent is staring at me. The guy from the mall. The one who stuck his face in my face. Right now I'm loving my pink-slip status because I stand up and walk out of class four minutes before the bell.

I pull in a few deep breaths the second I step into the quiet halls. I'm okay.

I roll through my locker combo and pull it open. Now I have something else to think about—books, messy locker, homework …

“I don't really appreciate the fact that I'm not allowed to go to Trent's house anymore.” His words snake up my spine and I glance around the edge of the small door. It's blond guy. And no one else is here.

I'm shaking and lean into my locker as if the small door can offer protection. I know he's walking toward me, even though I'm afraid to look. I didn't know Trent's friends weren't allowed over anymore.

“Still silent?” His voice lowers as he gets closer.

Why can't I just run away? Isn't that the simplest solution?

“What are you so afraid of?” I can feel the heat from his body behind me.

I'm weak. Trembling. All I want is for my legs to keep holding me up. Where
is
everyone? Why won't the bell ring so we won't be alone in the hall?

I see his hand against the locker next to mine. “Watch yourself, little girl.”

The bell finally rings, and I jump. I feel him move away and lean into my locker for support. I'm gasping for air. I have to find a way to get myself under control. He's just some dumb kid. But he's so much bigger than I am. I carefully wipe my tears as the hall becomes busy with students. Just a few more deep breaths, and I'll be—

“Hey.”

I jump at the sound of Justin's voice, and try to smooth my hair with shaking hands.

“What's going on with you?” he asks.

I turn and his forehead is pinched in worry, a slight frown pulls at the corners of his mouth.

“Uh … nothing. I'm fine.” But I know my voice comes out strange. Even with my heart whooshing in my ears, I know I don't sound right.

“Joy, you're shaking. What happened?” He starts to reach out for me but stops.

“I told you I don't work right,” I snap.

“Can I walk home with you today?” he asks.

“I just want to be alone.” But I also want to be with him. What do I say so I don't hurt his feelings?

He takes a breath and rubs his forehead.

Now I should apologize. It's not his fault I'm so inept. “I'm sorry.”

“No, it's cool, right? I said it's okay.” He stuffs his hands in his back pockets and steps back.

“Thanks.” I stand at my locker and feel a sharp pang of sadness as he walks away. Why do I have to be such a mess over this?

Trent's home when I walk in, glaring at me from the kitchen as I come in the door, and setting cold fear in my gut. I run upstairs to the quiet of my room and lock the door.

It's dark. Black. I wave my hands in front of my face but can't see them. It's hard to breathe. Almost impossible. Someone grabs me in the dark, but I break free and run away. Faster, faster my legs push. I can make it out. I can do it. The darkness fades and my heart sinks when I see where I am. The house that holds me. The dingy white walls. The familiar smell. No, I scream. Please, no!

And I push harder, push longer, my legs keep moving. I'm almost to the door. Almost there. A hand on my ankle pulls me to the ground. The blond guy from school appears next to me just before I scream.

I wake up half panicked, half resigned. As soon as I hear my door crack open I flip over my pillow. “I'm fine,” I say as I lie back down, facing the wall—even though I'm anything but.

Aunt Nicole sighs behind me. At this point my nightmares make me feel stupid and weak, which is almost worse than afraid. I'm waiting for her to step back out of my room, but she doesn't.

My bed bends with the weight of her, and her voice comes out in a whisper. “If you need me to leave, I'll go. But I don't want to.”

I don't move. My head's on my pillow, and I relax with the warmth of her hand running up and down my back. Each gentle movement makes me relax more, spreading warmth through me. Tears come, but they're tears of disbelief and gratitude. This woman pulled me into her family like I never expected, like I'd never have let myself hope. I will never, ever, be able to repay her.

“I'm glad I ran into you,” I say the second I see Justin coming up the street.

I stand at the end of the driveway and wait for him to catch up.

“I was worried. You didn't answer my texts,” he says.

Right. Because I wasn't sure what to tell him about how I reacted yesterday at school.

Tara and Trent pull out of the driveway in their car, and I watch them drive away.

“Why don't you ride with them?” he asks.

I shrug. “I do sometimes.”

“But not today.” He smiles. “Is it okay that I'm standing here, sort of hoping you wanted to walk with me?”

“I do want to walk with you.” We stand in silence for a moment, but I still have a lot I want to say. “I didn't know what to say to you. That's why I didn't answer. Sorry about yesterday.” I'm determined to be strong. To be the tough girl. I step closer to him and then closer still and give him a soft hug.

His arms reach only kind of around me and rest on my shoulders, his thumbs softly rubbing the tension from my arms. “This is nice.” His warm breath hits my neck and sends shivers through me. Intense. “Being close to you. Really. Really. Nice.”

“Yeah.” I step back and immediately miss the warmth of him. “We ready?”

“Of course.” He reaches his hand out and I take it. So the beginning of my day is already looking better than yesterday.

Blond guy is in three of my classes. How could I have missed that?

He sits down in Justin's chair before the bell rings for government.

I try to ignore him and stick my face in my book. I've done nothing to him. I don't understand why he doesn't leave me alone.

“I know you see me, Joy.” His voice may be low as a whisper, but it's meant to scare. I know that tone well.

“Excuse me.” Justin stands between us. He looks taller, bigger than he normally does. “You're in my seat.”

“Right. Whatever.” Blond guy stands up and walks slowly back to his chair.

“Are you okay?” Justin leans over. “What was that about?”

Think, think, think. “He's uh, a friend of Trent's, and was just saying hi.” The last thing I need is Justin seeing another way I'm weak, or added drama with the people around me.

Justin touches my hand.

I jump.

“I don't believe you.”

“I …” I let my eyes find his.

“You don't have to share. I just want to make sure you're okay,” he whispers as the teacher starts class.

I nod because I don't know what else to do. Being the victim of blond guy's attitude isn't something I want to talk about or admit right now. I reach across the aisle, glad we're in the back row, and take his hand.

He gives me a light squeeze.

For the first time, Justin's touch helps my heart slow and my body relax.

TWENTY-NINE

It only looks like overreaction—well, and sort of feels like it too

“I just don't see why I can't change my mind and do home-school again.” I'm staring at Uncle Rob and Aunt Nicole across the table. Anything to avoid school. To avoid the blond guy who makes me feel like the weak girl I don't want to be anymore.

“Where is this coming from?” Uncle Rob asks.

“Nowhere,” I insist. “It's just what I want to do.”

Aunt Nicole and Uncle Rob exchange glances.

Aunt Nicole speaks. “Joy, something's going on. Please just tell us what it is.”

“Nothing's going on!”

“Why don't you take a … a day off tomorrow?” Uncle Rob suggests. “And we'll talk about it again later. There's more going on here, and we need to know what it is before we can make any kind of decision.”

I slump in defeat. I bought myself one day, and then what?

THIRTY

Sanity day

“I'm taking my sanity day with you.” Tara flops down next to me in front of the TV.

“Sanity day?” I ask.

“Yeah, that's what Mom and Dad call it when you just need a day off.”

“Oh.” I can guess why they didn't use that term with me. But it's nice to know that Tara needs one once in a while too. And that means I can take a day off, and it won't be a big deal. “Why did you take a day?”

“It's just …” She sighs. “Camilla is the only friend from last year who still talks to me outside of school, and I don't know why no one else does. And every girl Trent has dumped this year has made a point to tell me what a jerk my brother is. Or I get a bunch of girls asking if I can introduce them to him. And Caitlynn, his girlfriend from last year is still so nice to me, and it just makes me feel guilty even though I shouldn't because I didn't dump her. Being a twin sucks.”

“And then Brandon. I'm really sorry. I didn't …”

“You didn't do anything wrong, Joy. I promise, we're fine.” But she looks so … defeated. I miss her smile.

“Sorry.” It's dumb to say it again, but it's all I have.

“It's nothing like what you're facing, I'm sure.”

“Just different.” Can I tell her? Maybe the whole situation isn't a big deal. “One of Trent's friends keeps harassing me.”

“Is that why you're home?” She leans forward.

I nod.

“Tyler? The blond guy?” she asks.

“How did you know it was Tyler?”

“Justin and I have sixth period together. He asked me if I knew what was going on with Tyler 'cause he saw him talking to you, and you seemed upset. We both know you don't like to talk to people, so it didn't seem too strange, but Tyler's a jerk, so we weren't sure.”

“You guys were talking about me?” Without me?

“Joy, we're family. We watch out for each other. It's what friends do. It's what family should always do. That's all.” She's smiling.

“I guess.” Is it normal for people to go out of their way to watch out for me?

“So …” She grins. “Justin really likes you.”

“He's sweet, I'm just sort of …” Talking needs to get easier for me because it's like my tongue has swollen up. “I feel … nervous around him … sometimes.”

“Joy, I've never had a boyfriend—not for more than a week or for dates at dances. Trent pretty much scares everyone off. If I had a guy as into me as Justin is into you, I'd be all nervous about being around him, you know?” She slides deeper into the couch.

Tara makes me feel better, but I'm still not sure if I believe her. Relationships seem so easy for everyone else. I think of the easy way Daisy grabbed Justin in a tight hug. And even after weeks of talking with him, I'm not there yet.

Our day passes in movies that Tara's shocked I haven't seen. They're all very romantic and completely unbelievable, but she seems to be smiling more than she was this morning. I have a little better understanding of friends and relationships, I feel closer to Tara, and I got some Oreos. Sanity days might be my favorite.

It's late but I can't sleep. Taking a pill would be okay with me, but I don't want to wake Aunt Nicole and Uncle Rob to get it. Anyway, sometimes normal people can't sleep. My day off helped, but I still have to go to school tomorrow. I roll onto my stomach and rest my head on my arm. On Justin's shirt. The one I hope he doesn't want back.

I think about how Aunt Nicole wears Uncle Rob's shirts to bed. How they look at each other. How once in a while, he'll drop cash on the counter for us to get a pizza or something so he can take her to dinner. I don't know how old they are or how long they've been married, but he's so good to her.

The other morning they stood in the dining room together in their pajamas. He held her against him, her eyes were closed, and his chin rested on her head. It felt like too private a moment to interrupt, but I stood and watched longer than I should have.

A smile fills my face. I know what to draw. My paper isn't the best, and my pencil isn't quite right for this kind of thing, but I have to get the sketch down.

“Joy.” Aunt Nicole's eyes are wide. “I didn't know you even …”

I stare at my bare feet on the carpet. “I drew this just for fun. I …”

“Wow.” Uncle Rob looks over his wife's shoulder and then up to me with the same look of disbelief. “I had no idea.”

“Do you have drawings? From your mom's house?” Aunt Nicole asks.

“The police took them.”

“We should get them back. It seems a—”

“I don't want those. I never want those. I'll draw new ones.” I look at Uncle Rob and then Aunt Nicole. “Okay?”

They exchange a glance.

“This is amazing. Thank you so much for sharing this with us.” Aunt Nicole's arms come around me in a hug and then Uncle Rob's. I never would have thought that I'd want to be held like this. And now I can't imagine a life when it never happens.