Page 108

No one wants you around

Make some fucking friends, you loser

And then it escalated over the next couple of months to pinches, shoves, kicks, a backhand across my face when I didn’t move fast enough for his liking. The first time I was too stunned to say anything back to him, or to my mom, certain that she wouldn’t believe her perfect boyfriendcould do something like that. The second time he really hurt me, and after that, I was terrified of him.

It only got worse from there.

‘So you never told anyone?’ Brooke asked, shocked.

It took me a second to gather my vicious, violent rage and contain it.

‘I was too scared to tell my mom, but I did tell the girls’ youth pastor at our church. She said …’

Brooke let me have a moment, then squeezed my hand. ‘What?’

‘She said it was a serious allegation. And that I should pray about it. And that I needed to think very carefully about what I wanted to happen next, because once I said something officially, I couldn’t take it back.’

‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

‘No,’ I said. I extracted my fingers from Brooke’s so I could reach for my coffee. I wasn’t thirsty, I was furious, and I needed something to do with my hands.

‘I told her I wanted to kill him. I wanted him to disappear, to die, to be out of my life forever. I told her, Brooke, that I wanted him dead, and now he’s dead.’

I watched as the realization dawned in her eyes.

‘Oh, shit.’

‘Yeah,’ I said. ‘Exactly. You see why I had to get out of there?’

‘Fuck.’ She sighed heavily. Then she took hold of my hand again and brushed a kiss across my knuckles. ‘You know, I didn’t sleep so well last night.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be. I had some good thinking time.’

‘What were you thinking about?’ I asked cautiously.

‘I thought that if he was hurting you, Jessie, then he could’ve been hurting others as well.’

That felt like a punch to the stomach. I hadn’t even thought about that. I hadn’t been able to think beyond myself, what was happening to me, and how I could escape.

‘Oh, God.’ I pulled my knees up and leaned forward to rest my head on them.

‘Please don’t puke again,’ Brooke said with a little laugh that I knew was an attempt to lighten the mood. She reached up to rub gently between my shoulders.

‘I won’t.’ I didn’t feel sick, I feltcold. ‘That bastard was hurting someone else.’

‘Maybe,’ Brooke said. ‘I don’t know. It’s a possibility. If he was hurting another kid, maybe that kid told someone, and that’s who killed him.’

It all clicked together in my head, suddenly making sense.

‘Yeah. I could see that.’

‘Was he ever, like, left alone with kids from your youth group?’

‘All the time.’ I turned my head to rest my cheek on my knees and look at her.

‘I’m glad someone else killed him,’ she said. ‘Before I could get my hands on him.’