“Fuck,” I said again, this time in a whimper. Quiet and choked.
Weak.
I was soweak.
I wiped the sleeve of my sweatshirt beneath my nose as I swayed on the spot. I was so dizzy that I thought I might fall over, but I took a deep breath and dared my eyes to glance over my shoulder at the friends who shouldn’t have wanted to know me at all.
Molly held on to Ricky’s arm. Ricky’s lips were trapped between his teeth, his eyes glistening beneath the restroom lights. And Laura …
Laura’s face was as wet as mine, and I hated that she would cry for me.
I wanted to yell at them, to tell them off and make them fucking leave for good. It would be better that way. It would make thingseasier. I didn’t need friends. God, I hardly wanted them. They had forced themselves on me, made it impossible to push them away, but that was exactly what I wanted to do now. Scream at them. Belittle them. Make them hate me as much as my father did.
Yet all I could think to say was, “He destroyed my book.”
Ricky cleared his throat and gently pulled his arm from Molly’s hold as he took a step toward me, approaching like he would a scared, wounded animal.
“What book?” he asked.
I looked away, suddenly ashamed. “The one you gave me.”
“Dracula?” Laura guessed, and I nodded.
“He tore it up,” I said, unsure of why I would say it out loud. “And he beat me. I can’t hear anything out of this ear.” I lifted my right hand, gesturing toward the throbbing they couldn’t see, but, oh, I could feel it.
“Who are we talking about?” Molly whispered.
“His asshole dad,” Ricky said, and I was shocked to hear how madhewas. “You gotta get out of there, Max.”
I shook my head, which did nothing to quell the pain or ease the dizzy sensation in my head. “No. I … no. I can’t leave my sisters.”
“How old are they?” Ricky asked, crossing his arms.
“Fourteen. They’re twins.”
“So, call the cops,” he suggested. “Get that bastard thrown in jail.”
“No, no, I can’t do that either because they’d take them away,” I said, meaning my sisters. Ricky seemed to understand with a nod. “We’d be separated, and I can’t do that.”
“Does he beat them too?” Ricky asked.
God, I realized then how good it felt to talk to someone else about this. How good it felt to open up and let it spill out. It was freeing in a way, even if I wasn’t free at all. My body wilted and sighed, as if to say,Finally.
I shook my head again. “No. As long as I’m there, he doesn’t touch them.”
What would he do to them if I was gone?
“Okay,” Ricky said, nodding as if he were deep in thought. “Okay. So, if you’ve thought this through, then what’s your plan? What are you going to do? Because, man, you gotta dosomething. You can’t live like this forever.”
“Get a job as soon as I graduate,” I said, shrugging, my shoulders aching from all the bruises. “Save up some money while living at home, and as soon as my sisters turn eighteen, get them the hell out of there. We’ll get an apartment or something.”
“Four years is a long time, Max,” Laura reminded me, her voice barely louder than a whisper.
I glanced at her. “Do you have any better ideas?”
Ricky scoffed with a bitter chuckle. “Uh, yeah. Go to the damn cops. Tell them what’s going on. I understand you don’t want to be separated from your sisters, but at least they’d besafe. Isn’t that more important?”
I fixed my gaze on the garbage can again and thought about it.Wouldthey be safe? Would we be better off? Would the cops even take me seriously? My father ran a tight ship, and he was cruel and harsh … but wasn’t that just the way some people were? Was it bad or even wrong for someone to choose to raise their kids the way my father had chosen to raise his, just as Ricky’s mom had chosen to be gentle and kind?
