I smile softly. “Of course not. Nobody could forget the girl with the red hair.”
* * *
I openmy eyes in the darkness to a tapping sound on my window. I’m disoriented. What time is it? The crickets still chirp, but it’s too dark to read my clock. There’s more tapping, then . . .
I sit up in bed, focusing intently on my bedroom window where a mane of red curls frames a bloodied and bruised face. In a flash, I’m ripping back the covers and running to the window. Dusty winces while I fumble desperately with the locks until the window slides open.
“What happened?” I whisper as she climbs in. “How did you?—”
But I’m stopped in my inquiry when she wraps her hands around my neck and falls into me. I pull her gently toward me. She cries into my shoulder, and I have no idea what to do as she shakes, so I simply stroke her hair until she finally calms down enough to talk.
Leaning back, I take in her face as clearly as I can in my dark bedroom. Her left eye is bloodied and nearly swollen shut, blood dripping from her temple, and her cheek bones are bruised and scratched. There’s some marks at the top of her forehead, like someone tried to rip out her hair.
“Dusty—”
“I’m okay, Key,” she starts. “I know it looks bad, but I’m alive.”
“No! Look at you?—”
“He’s gone,” she states.
I raise my eyebrows. “Your dad?”
“I finally called the cops,” she continues. “They took him away, Key. He’s finally out of my life.”
“What happened?”
She closes her eyes and presses her lips together. “He . . . he found out about the cabin.”
My blood runs cold. “What?”
She shrugs. “He must have been following me. I don’t know how it happened, but . . . he saw you leaving before me and?—”
I feel sick. Is this my fault?
“I think he thought we were . . .” Even under the bruising, her cheeks flush.
“Thought we were what?”
She chuckles darkly. “Doing what a teenage boy and girl might do if they’re both alone and totally not gay?”
What is she . . . “Oh—but we weren’t!”
Taking a step back, she wraps her arms around herself. “I know. But he wouldn’t listen and . . . well, he trashed the place. Dragged me home by my hair and—” She motions to her face.
My guts cramp. “If I had known, I would’ve?—”
“I know, Key. I know.”
I nod my head and rub the back of my neck. “But he’s gone now, and you’re safe. Hey, maybe you can even enroll in school,” I say, circling her wrists. “We can start high school together and maybe even be—what’s wrong?”
Even through my excitement, I notice the tears welling in her eyes. “I’m leaving.”
“What?” No. No, she can’t. My throat is dry. I’m choking. I can’t swallow because she’s leaving.Again.“Leaving?” I squeeze my hands, harder than I probably should, because I never want to let her go. “What are you talking about?”
She takes a deep breath. “They can’t locate my mom. And with my dad gone now . . . I’m going to move in with my aunt for a while.”
“Oh, well?—”
