Or, you hit your fucking head and you have no idea what’s happening.
Maybe. Maybe I did.
I haul myself up over the guardrail into the bleachers. And I start walking down toward the section that I saw her in. I’m creating a stir. I don’t particularly care.
I’m avoiding all the people gawking at me, trying to take selfies in front of me. In any other circumstances I might stop and flip them the bird so they have that as a keepsake from tonight.
Then for some reason, I turn around.
There she is. Not up on the bleachers anymore, down by the chutes. I grit my teeth, haul myself right back over, and there we are. Three feet apart from each other. She’s staring at me, wide brown eyes that are so familiar to me they might as well be my own.
“I don’t know if you remember me…” I almost can’t make sense of what just came out of her mouth.Imight not rememberher? I’ve spent so many sleepless nights worrying about her. Wondering where she is. Driving myself crazy.
Now she’s here. She’s right here.
Without thinking, without giving any allowance for the fact that I’m sweaty and full of dust, I reach out and I pull her into my arms. “Sarah,” I whisper, my hand on the back of her head. I must look like a crazy person. But I feel like a crazy person.
“Dallas.”
Chapter Two
Sarah
I want to cry, but I can’t. I can’t cry because this isn’t what I’m here for. An emotional reunion, a rekindling of the friendship we once had, the promises we made to each other as scared, desperate kids who needed something to cling to —that’s not what I’m looking for.
I can’t afford to let my guard down. I can’t afford to melt into him.
I can’t break. Not yet.
But Iwantto cry because I can’t remember how long it’s been since anyone’s touched me. Because I can’t bear for anyone to touch me, not anyone but him. It’s been that way for as long as I can remember.
Ten years.
Ten years this man has been gone from my life. He was a boy then. Everything to me. He haunts me. My dreams, my days, my nightmares.
I remember far too clearly the first daythat I met him.
I was eight.
I’d just gotten removed from my mom’s care. She won’t leave the man that’s been touching me, and even though he’s going to prison, nothing about her behavior suggests that she can be trusted to take care of me.
I’m shut down. I’m lost. Everything is dark. My life has never been easy. But it got remarkably worse when Chris came into my mom’s life. And as a result, into mine.
Now I know you can’t trust everyone. I know the people who say they love you will choose themselves over you every time. That men are vile, disgusting creatures whose hands bring hurt, discomfort and disgust.
I don’t trust anyone. Not the foster family I’ve just been introduced to, not the social workers who have been trying to help me. And before that, not the people I was in temporary placement with. But for some reason the minute I see him… It’s like everything is different. I feel safe when I look at him. He’s about twelve, I think. Tall and safe looking. When I have nightmares, he comforts me. He’s the only person I can bear to be touched by. True then, true now. Like no time has passed.
For years, he and I were bonded. For years we moved to the same foster homes. When they tried to separate us, I wouldn’t eat. I wouldn’t even come out of my room. He would run away from whatever home he was in.
He would always come find me. Wherever I was. It didn’t matter.
Dallas Dodge was the one thing I could count on. In a world that had treated me cruelly, viciously, he was the one kindness.
I remember one of our foster families lived on this big, rural property, and Dallas and I used to sneak away and lieon a grassy hill that had a view of Portland, down below, and a view of the stars up above.
Someday I’ll have my own place. My own life.
I remember whispering that to him one night, up there, like I was whispering a prayer. Better to talk to Dallas than God. At least I felt like Dallas listened.
