Until Friday Night

his voice.

“Don’t go there,” Nash warned from beside me. “West ain’t good, sweetheart. He’s one of my best friends, but he’s poison for girls like you. He don’t care about anyone as much as he cares about West.”

Nash didn’t have to worry. I wasn’t going anywhere near West. We had been close enough once, and he didn’t even seem to remember. Our kiss wasn’t something he thought about all weekend like I had.

Still, West needed to be saved. Someone had to get close to him, to reach him. No one had been able to save my father, and horror had followed in his path of destruction. West was in desperate need of help. That much I knew. I also knew I wasn’t that person for him. I had my own demons to survive.





I Love You, Momma





CHAPTER 4


WEST

“Where’s Brady?” Nash asked as he sat down at our table in the cafeteria.

“Ain’t seen him. Probably with that good-looking cousin of his,” I replied, trying to act as if I hadn’t had her in my arms while her kiss shocked the hell out of me. Damn, that kiss had been sweet. I’d laid in bed that night thinking about how she’d felt. Her hands on my chest and her body leaning into me. For that one moment, I’d been able to forget. I hadn’t thought about my life and what I was facing anytime I went home.

But then she’d made a small whimper, and it had snapped me out of my delirium. The girl couldn’t speak, and I was pressing her against a tree and taking what I needed. God, I was a monster. She didn’t deserve that.

I’d needed to get away from her, so I let her go and I’d walked off. I hadn’t even been able to look at her when I broke away. One glimpse at those lips swollen from our kiss, and I’d have been right back at it. She wasn’t just beautiful, she felt good too.

Not to mention that if Brady found out I’d kissed his cousin, we’d end up beating the shit out of each other. I deserved it, sure. She was too sweet for me.

“She really can’t talk. I was in second period with her,” said Asa Griffith, the other running back on the team. He’d been playing ball with us since elementary school. “I figure, if a girl looks like that and can’t bitch, then she just might be perfect.”

Nash, who was sitting down at the table, jumped in. “Don’t be an ass. She’s Brady’s cousin.” He sounded pissed. I’d seen the way he was looking at her this morning in the hall. He’d been taken with her real damn fast. And if I was honest with myself, I didn’t like that.

“I’m being serious. She’s gorgeous and can’t talk. Does it get better than that?” Asa asked.

I wasn’t going to say anything. As frustrating as Raleigh could be, I didn’t wish a life of being mute on anyone. I knew Asa was joking, but it was too cold. He wasn’t thinking about what he was saying.

“She was at the field party Friday night. Brady made it clear she was off mentally and not someone he wanted any of us moving in on,” Ryker added to the conversation as he sat down across from his cousin. “She’s not just mute, but, like, her mind isn’t right.”

Nash studied Ryker a minute as if he didn’t agree with him. “She didn’t seem off.”

I agreed with him. Maggie wasn’t off in the head, that much I knew. Brady was making that shit up. The girl was intelligent—her eyes were enough to prove that. There had been anger and disappointment in them as she glared at me. She had seen me at my worst, and I had wanted her to. After that kiss I wanted her to steer clear of me. I wasn’t the kind of guy who got close to someone who was sweet.

Yes, seeing her at the party had sent a jolt of relief through me. But I’d let it register for only a moment before putting an end to it. Right now I couldn’t deal with anything but my family. Last night, as I’d listened to my mother crying softly in the living room, I knew I didn’t have it in me to be nice to any girl. Not even a girl like her.

Ryker rolled his eyes. “You know this because what? You looked at her? Sure, she’s nice to look at, but if she’s not right in the head, then it’s screwed up to move in on her.” “Whatever, can we talk about something more interesting?” Gunner grumbled from the end of the table.

I didn’t add to the conversation because I knew better, but also because I knew her. It had been like she’d seen through me. Seen my thoughts. And she understood. But she also expected more from me. That had been hard to swallow. For some crazed reason I didn’t want to let her down. At the same time I wanted her to hate me enough so she never came near me again.

“We got a football game to win. We go and screw with our star quarterback’s cousin, and we’re messing with the team. All Brady needs in his head right now is football. Not stressing over your horny asses,” Ryker said. It was a good point. If we were taking State this year, we needed Brady focused on one thing and one thing only: football.

I had to win the state championship for my dad. He wanted it. He’d been saying that my senior year was our year. I was determined to give him that. No matter what I had to do.

Forgetting that kiss wasn’t going to be easy, but I didn’t regret showing Maggie the ugliness from this morning. I’d lashed out and acted a way my mother would have been horrified by. But I’d seen the look in her eyes, and I knew she’d gotten the message. I wasn’t a good guy. I wasn’t anyone she needed to get to know or trust.

When I walked into the house after football practice that evening, the table was set like we were a normal, happy family. After I was born, this was the house my parents brought me home to from the hospital. It was the only home I had ever known. Yet the safety I once felt here was gone. Now I faced fear daily, hoping for a miracle.

My mother had prepared dinner just like she had most of my life. She was still pretending the best she could. I knew she prayed for that miracle too. Whenever she could, she acted as if life hadn’t turned on us two years ago when my father was diagnosed. Tonight Momma even had fresh flowers on the center of the table. The basket beside them was full of freshly baked bread. She was baking a lot of bread lately. It was her way of coping, I had decided.

“You’re home,” she said with a smile that didn’t meet her eyes. “How was practice?”

This was how she dealt with things: smiling, putting up a happy front. I wasn’t sure if she was trying to help me get through this or if it was the only way she could handle it. Dad just let her do whatever; he didn’t force her to face the truth. He adored her. Always had.

Our house wasn’t big and fancy like the one she had grown up in. Yet she loved it. The way she took care of it and made it feel warm and inviting was proof she was proud of the life that Dad had given her. Not once did she speak about her past or the life she left behind when she married Dad.

“It was good. We’re ready for Friday night. I feel confident we got this,” was my reply. Because, like Dad, I couldn’t let her down. If she wanted to pretend life was normal, then I would pretend with her.

“Dad eating with us?” I asked, wondering if he was better today. When I’d left this morning, he’d still been sleeping. No vomiting, and last night had seemed quiet.

She beamed at me, and the light in her eyes seemed almost real. “Yes, he is. He’s just getting dressed now after his shower. He’s looking forward to hearing all about practice. I think he’s more excited about Friday’s game than you are.”

He was excited, but would he go? Last year he hadn’t been this bad. He’d been able to sit up in the stands and watch. But now I couldn’t imagine him sitting out there. Things had taken a bad turn the past month, and he wasn’t getting better. I didn’t want to shorten the time I had with him because he was going to my games when he should be resting.

“What’s for dinner?” I asked, changing the topic. Dad and football were hard to talk about. I had grown up loving football because it was what Dad loved most in the world, second only to his family. It was how we bonded. All those days of him tossing me the ball in the backyard and the mornings we woke up early to go running together before school. It was us. An us that was slowly fading away.

“Meat loaf, mashed potatoes, and collard greens. Oh, and of course corn bread. Your daddy loves his corn bread with his collard greens.”

She was making all of Dad’s favorites. He would hardly be able to eat anything. Didn’t matter to her, though. She was doing it for him because she didn’t know what else to do. I understood that.

I would sit at this table and talk to him about practice and the upcoming game like he would be there when we won the state championship. I wanted him there. I wanted to win it. I wanted him to see it happen. But I wasn’t sure that was realistic.

All we could do was keep doing the things that made Dad happy. Even if inside we were both falling apart. He wasn’t just a husband to Momma; he was her best friend. They had been inseparable my whole life. Next year I wanted to play SEC football, but could I leave her alone? With Dad not here, how did I continue with my dreams? With our dreams?

“Go on ahead and wash up. I’ll get the glasses filled with ice, then I’ll go see if your dad is ready to eat,” she said, still smiling. Still trying to seem happy when I knew her heart was breaking just like mine.

“Yeah, okay,” I replied. I didn’t have it in me to say much else. I headed for the stairs then stopped. I needed her to know that she wasn’t alone. That when this was over, she would have me. Momma had always seemed like this beautiful, fragile flower that Dad protected. But over the past year I had found out that she was made of steel. She never once cracked in front of Dad no matter how hard it got. She was right there beside him while I wanted to curl up and weep like a baby.

I turned around to face her. “I love you, Momma,” I said, needing her to know. I was in this with her. She wasn’t alone. When Dad was gone, I wouldn’t let her be alone.

Her eyes filled with tears I knew she wouldn’t shed. Then she nodded. “I love you too, baby.”

That was enough for now. I wasn’t ready to cry. Not in front of her. And I didn’t think I could handle seeing her tears either.





Stay Out of My World





CHAPTER 5


MAGGIE

I sat on my bed looking out the window. Tonight Brady had invited several guys over to watch game tapes—whatever that meant. Aunt Coralee had made sure I knew I was welcome to go down and watch with them if I wanted to. But I wasn’t doing that to Brady.

Instead I was sitting here and watching to see if West would come over. As angry as he’d made me this morning, that look in his eyes he tried so hard to disguise had been nagging at me. I wanted to despise him, or even just be indifferent to him, but I couldn’t seem to get him out of my thoughts.

I’d been so sure he was a monster after his performance in the hallway. But later I’d watched him shove a guy against the wall and take a pair of glasses from him and then hand them back to a terrified-looking ninth grader. It had been so quick that if I hadn’t been studying him, I would have missed it. Cruel, heartless people didn’t do that. They didn’t stand up for the weak. West was one big contradiction.

But I still wouldn’t trust him. That much I knew. Just because he spoke kindly to his mother and helped a kid being picked on did not mean I would form any attachment to him. Yes, he had kissed me and, yes, I had liked it. And yes, I was curious about whatever secret he was keeping from everyone. But I wasn’t one to let a guy turn my head. I had done that once in junior high school. He’d been a year older than I was and beautiful. I thought he really liked me, but then I’d found out he was just using me to get to my friend. After finding out he’d asked her to the homecoming dance, I had come home in tears. Mom had sat on the sofa with me and we’d eaten popcorn, chocolate ice cream with hot fudge, and pizza. She was always there when I hurt. She always knew how to make me smile. . . .

I shoved the memory away. I couldn’t think about that. I missed her too much.

I pulled the blanket up over my arms and tucked it under my chin, then rested my head against the wall. West’s eyes were going to haunt me. Were all his friends blind to his behavior? Did they just accept it?

When I’d seen him kissing Raleigh this afternoon— she clearly didn’t stay mad at him long and was rubbing all over him by the last bell—I’d wanted to be her for a second. Now that I knew how it felt to be in his arms, I had one weak moment where I’d wished he’d been the boy I thought he was Friday night. But then I remembered he was standing there kissing a girl he’d treated terribly. Was that his apology to Raleigh? Did she forgive him so easily? Probably. I’d seen that kind of warped relationship with my parents. If she only knew how unhealthy it could become.

Guys who looked like West made girls forget themselves. I had watched it so many times. When you are silent, you can observe so much more. I see others’ mistakes more easily. And people feel safe saying things around me they wouldn’t normally say because they know I won’t repeat them or because they confuse being mute with being deaf.

For instance, two of my six teachers today had spoken extra loudly as if I couldn’t hear them when they addressed me in class. It was comical. I was used to it by now, but it still made me laugh inside.

I wondered how it would feel to laugh again, to laugh right out loud. To feel the sound of it on my tongue. But knowing that my mother was gone and that I had made sure my father paid for his crime, could I ever laugh again? Could I hear my own voice and not break into a million pieces?

A knock at my bedroom door startled me, and I turned to see the knob slowly turn. I watched as the door eased open and Nash’s face came into view. His eyes were just as startling against his dark skin as they had been earlier.

“You want company?” he asked, a sheepish grin tugging on his lips.

He was flirting with me. Several times today he’d appeared at my side and talked to me, knowing I wouldn’t talk back. I hadn’t expected that kind of attention, but I was certainly getting it from Nash. At first I was wary of him, but he’d been nothing but kind to me. He never went beyond my comfort zone, and I had watched him with other people. The others at school all seemed to love him. Even the teachers.

Although I wasn’t in the mood for company, nor was I sure it was a good idea that he was up in my room, I shrugged. It wasn’t an invite, exactly, but I hoped it wasn’t rude, either.

“Good. They’re boring me down there,” he said.

I tried to manage a smile, but it didn’t happen.

“You know,” he continued as he sat down on the edge of my bed, facing me as I stayed curled up in the window seat, “school didn’t suck today with you to look at.”

I ducked my head and studied the blanket I was covered up with. He was going to flirt some more. I wasn’t used to this. Sure, I’d had boyfriends before . . . before everything happened. That had been different, though. We hadn’t been kissing or hanging out. It was more of a social thing that happened only at school or on the phone at night. My mother had been very overprotective, and I wasn’t allowed to date until I was sixteen.

Once, I’d also been a cheerleader and had a lot of friends. But that all changed, and over the past two years I’d lost that part of me.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel uncomfortable or embarrass you. I’m sorry. I was just trying to make your transition to a new school easier.”

He was handsome and sweet. The kind of guy I would have liked in my former life. The kind of guy that any girl would like. I could ignore him and he would go away, but I wasn’t going to be rude. He was my cousin’s friend and, so far, my only almost-friend in town.

I reached for the notebook and pen I had left lying beside me after finishing my homework. He deserved something from me. I would like a friend here. Someone who didn’t look at me as if I were a freak.

Thank you. For being nice to me. This day could’ve been harder than it was, but you were a friend.





I handed the notebook to him so he could read it.

He read my note, and a smile tugged up both corners of his mouth before he raised his gaze to meet mine. “You got a phone? So we can text?” he asked.

I nodded and reached into my pocket to pull it out. I had been given a phone by my godmother, Jorie, when I moved in with her after everything had happened. Two years with Jorie had been anything but comforting. I was in her way, and she had no idea how to deal with me. When I continued not to speak, she finally gave up and called my uncle Boone and asked him if he still wanted me. He and Aunt Coralee had responded immediately. It wasn’t even one week before Jorie had me all packed up and ready to move. Since then, she hadn’t even called to check on me. It’s not like my number had changed; it was the same number she’d gotten me. The only difference was now my aunt and uncle were paying the bill. Nash held out his hand. “Can I put my number in it?” Again I nodded and let him take my phone from me. He took a picture of himself then added his information. I heard a ding, and he grinned at me. “I texted myself. Now I have your number too. Can I take a picture of you to go with your contact info?”

I didn’t really like the idea of him taking a photo of me, but I wasn’t going to tell him no. I gave him a small nod, and then he held the phone up. “Smile,” he said.

I didn’t smile, but he took the photo anyway.

He chuckled. “That’s okay. No need to smile.”

The door opened, and we both turned to see Brady walk inside with a furious expression. “Get the hell out of here, Nash,” he said, pointing at the door and glaring at his friend.

Nash held up both hands. “Calm down, bro. I was just talking to Maggie. We’re friends aren’t we, Maggie? Nothing more. I wasn’t doing nothing else, I swear.”

“Don’t care. Get out,” Brady repeated, still pointing at the door.

Nash stood up and glanced back at me, then held up his phone before winking and walking out the door.

Brady didn’t say anything until Nash was gone. But once the door closed behind him, Brady turned to look at me. “Be careful, Maggie. These guys are my friends, but they don’t always treat girls right. Hell, I don’t always treat girls right. You . . . just keep your distance. Okay?”

He barely spoke to me, but now he seemed to think he had to protect me? I didn’t need him telling me who I should be careful around. I understood others more than he did. If he didn’t want me around his friends, that was fine. But demanding it of me wasn’t fair. I lifted my chin and shot him a challenging glare. I had done everything to keep his parents from foisting me on him at every turn. But I wasn’t going to take this behavior from him.

Brady’s gaze found the notebook that Nash had left on the bed. Before I could reach it, he snatched it up. I waited while he read what I had said to Nash. It was meant to be nice and to thank Nash for today, but I knew Brady wouldn’t see it that way.