I stand. “I’ve got to go.”
“Whoa.” Rachel snatches my hand. “I know you’ve been avoiding Mom and Dad, but dinner won’t be that bad. It’s sort of why I invited Isaiah tonight. There’s no way they’d go into the biological stuff with him there.”
He grunts. “Thanks.”
She waves him off. “It’s a kill two birds with one stone thing. It’ll be so awkward we’ll inhale our food and run.”
“Again. Thanks,” he says.
“I’ve got to take the fight,” I tell her.
“West...” It’s like she’s preparing me for impending news of death. “Haley’s gone.”
“Yeah, she is, but she’s still worth fighting for. When I was jumped, Haley came back and fought for me. She changed me, for the better, and now it’s time to fight for her.”
“What about the scholarship? Dad said he’ll find her in California and make sure she gets it. If you fight, she’ll lose the money.”
A heaviness consumes me and the urge is to fix Haley’s problems and control her destiny, but it’s time I start controlling mine. “I’ve got to do this.”
Her forehead crinkles and I hate I’m causing her pain. “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”
“Just this house, not you. Never you. I’ll be around so damn much you’ll be sick of me, but I need to do this. It’s time I start acting like a man.”
Rachel opens her arms for a hug. I wrap my arms around her and kiss her cheek. “We’ll get you back in that garage, okay?” And after fixing the door at Denny’s bar, I came up with an idea of how to do it. Mom will hate it. Rachel will love it.
I ignore her puzzled expression as I rise and suck in a pride-eating breath. “I’m going to need a place to crash. If I’m taking this fight, I can’t live here.”
This time Isaiah extends his hand first. “Bed’s mine, but you can have the couch. Just leave some cash occasionally on the table upstairs and my foster parents won’t care.”
“Deal.”
* * *
Isaiah didn’t have dinner with my parents. Instead he drove me to his foster parents’ house as I used his cell to text my parents to inform them where I was, what I was doing and to remind them I’m eighteen. In a separate text to Dad I told him where he could shove the scholarship.
Determined to do this on my own, I packed some clothes and then left—everything: my phone, my car, my belongings. But this time I’m accepting help from some friends.
Outside the bar, Abby tosses me a prepaid cell and I hand her thirty dollars. “You’ve got fifty minutes. Don’t use them all at once.”
It’s the cheapest damn phone I’ve ever seen. “Are you sure it works?”
Abby tilts her head to the left. “Ha.” Then to the right. “Ha. To get to the gym, take the forty-two bus. It’ll go straight there.”
A red Honda Civic pulls up and Abby nods her chin at the driver. “Here’s my ride.”
“Hey, Abby.”
She glances over her shoulder.
“How’d you know about my mom and Denny?”
That wicked smile crosses her lips. “That’s a story from a whole other book that you aren’t old enough to read yet. When you’re out of diapers, maybe I’ll tell it to you someday.”
Why would I expect any other answer? “Thanks, Abby.”
“Watch it, Young. People may think that we’re friends or something. By the way, welcome home.” Abby slides into the car and it takes off down the street.
I lean against the sidewalk railing and survey the strip mall. Farther down people lug piles of clothes into the Laundromat; they carry bags out of the dollar and grocery stores. Months ago, this was my foreign. Today, it’s where I belong.
Damn, who would have guessed it—this is my home.
The feeling grows stronger when I walk into the bar and my feet stick to the floor. Farther down, Denny wipes down a table.
“Heard you were looking for someone to fix things,” I say. “Is the job still open?”
Denny freezes, then returns to the stubborn spot in front of him. He tries to hide it, but I catch the smile on his face. “Yeah. Job’s still open.”
Haley
Water beats against the tub as Dad starts the shower. Lying on the bed on her stomach with her feet in the air, Maggie wallows in chicken nugget and Nickelodeon heaven. I peek past the heavy motel curtains and spot Mom sitting on the curb looking at the flashing Motel 6 neon sign.
The door clicks as I open it and Mom’s shoulders relax when she sees it’s me. She scoots over and creates a space. Even though the very tip of the western sky bleeds pink and stars twinkle directly overhead, the concrete still radiates the day’s heat.
“Kansas is flat,” I announce. For months my mother’s been a specter disappearing and reappearing in my life and I miss having a mom.
“Yes, it is.” Mom reaches over and entwines her fingers with mine. “I’m sorry I couldn’t keep everything from unraveling.”
“I was going to apologize for the same thing.”
The way she sighs cuts deep into my bone marrow. “Keeping this family together was never your job. It was your father’s and mine.”
“Are you mad at Kaden for staying?” I shuffle my feet against the loose concrete, anxious for the answer. Decisions shouldn’t be this agonizing and I envy that Kaden was able to easily make his. If I leave and return to the gym, I’m letting down my mom, my father and Maggie. If I stay, I’m letting myself down. I’m a fighter and I belong in that gym.
“No,” she says and stares out into the horizon. “Sad, yes, but not mad.”
Crap. Sort of the answer I desired, yet not. Then again, maybe I’m supposed to stay away from Kentucky. So many things went wrong there: Matt, Conner...West. I close my eyes with the ache.
“You okay, honey?”
I open my eyes to see Mom worrying at me like she did when I was sick as a child. “I miss West.”
She nudges me with her shoulder. “Broken hearts mend. You got through Matt—you’ll get through this.”
West hurts, but not in the way it hurt when I left Matt. Losing West causes my heart to break; my soul feels empty—hollow. With Matt, my bones ached, my body throbbed and my self-worth was burned to a crisp. If I had more time with West, if I had given my heart faster to him, would it have made a difference? Would he have chosen me?
I’ll never know. I permitted Matt’s memory to haunt me and the scary part is he’s still an unseen phantom stalking my every move, infesting my decisions. “Matt and I didn’t end well.”
I said this before...to John, but I couldn’t say more than that. My throat tightens and I pull at the collar of my shirt.
Mom angles her body and for the first time in over a year, I have her full, undivided attention. “What do you mean, didn’t end well?”
Say it, Haley. Say it. My mouth opens and consonants stick in my throat. The only sound that falls past my lips is a sick strangling click.
Mom pushes my hair over my shoulder. “Talk to me, Haley, but you have to breathe, too. Come on, honey.”
I do what she says and welcome each clean intake. Stupid me. Stupid, stupid me. Why can’t I say it? Why can’t I admit it? Through another breath of air, I rush out, “It was bad.”
“All right,” she says as if I admitted something huge and I guess it was huge, but it wasn’t the full truth. “All right. It’s okay.”
Mom kisses my temple, wraps both of her arms around me and pulls my head onto her shoulder. That’s when I realize I’m shaking. Not just me—the entire world. Then it blurs. “He hurt me.”
He hit me. I crave to say it. The words beg for freedom, but there’s a whisper of guilt—a whisper that I’m stupid and that if I say more, then the entire world will see my shame...that they will judge and cruci
fy me.
I was stupid. I fell for the wrong guy. He hurt me and I paid. He hurt me and I broke. He hurt me and the rest of the world will forever condemn.
“It’s okay,” Mom says again as she rocks the two of us. “We’re going to be okay.”
West
Even though I talked to John on the phone and told him I’m still competing next Saturday and would appreciate his help, I’m apprehensive as I walk into the gym. He agreed to see me but didn’t agree to what I asked.
The moment the door shuts behind me, I drop my head. Damn. In the ring and in full gear, Kaden and Jax knock out a kick series.
John’s office sits dark and, if I’m manning up, forward is my only option. I broke the heart of a person they love. If I’m lucky, I’ll leave here with bones still intact.
I weave through the bags and call out to them, “Is John here?”
Their heads snap up in unison. The scratching of Velcro being undone breaks through the silence. Jax flies under the ropes and throws his headgear and gloves to the side. “Gotta death wish, Young?”
I show him the palm stop sign. “I’m here to talk to John. He knows I’m coming.”
With sweat pouring down his body, Jax mock glances around the gym. “Don’t see him.”
“Look, I made a mistake. I broke up with Haley because my dad said he’d pay for her college if I did.”
Jax advances on me like I said nothing. “I think you’re full of shit. I think now that Haley’s gone you want the benefit of this gym without having to respect the girl.”
“Where’s John?”
“Dunno. He told us to be here. Guess he wanted to give us an early Christmas present.”
Fuck. I’ve been set up. Jax widens his stance and I mirror the position and tighten my fist. Haley’s voice screams in my head to hold up my guard, but I don’t want to invite the hit. I’m not searching for a fight. “I’d get on my knees in front of Haley, tell her the truth and beg her to take me back if I could.”
Fire blazes out of his eyes. “Wrong choice of words.”
Jax swings and my guard goes up. I duck below the hit and sidestep out of the way. “I don’t want to fight you.”
“Too bad.”
He throws the cross and I block and meet the jab. Jax gains the low kick, but I quickly spin out of reach. “Fight!” Jax yells. “Are you a fucking man or not?”
“I’m not fighting you. I’m not here to fight you.”
We begin the dance. He attacks, and I counter but keep my blows to the block. Jax goes for the cross again, but in a snap he’s at my knees and I’m down. Dammit. I roll to keep him from gaining position and jump to my feet, guard up, ready to go again.
I do a double take when Jax leans against the ring and drinks from a water bottle. “Haley’s right. He sucks at the floor.”
Kaden slips under the ropes. “I needed more time. Never said I was a miracle worker.”
“We’ve got a week. Surely you can teach him some crazy shit by then.”
“Something’s better than nothing.” He nods at me. “You’re lucky she taught you how to block so damn well. You’re going to need it against Matt. He’s got a mean hook.”
I lower my arms when John emerges from the locker room. “She hasn’t taught him how to block a hook or an undercut. She was sticking to basics.”
Jax’s shoulders shake as he laughs. “Basics against Matt. Maybe she wanted him to die.”
Son of a bitch. “What the hell is going on?”
“Checking to see if you’re salvageable,” answers John. “And good thing for you, you kept that temper in check. Otherwise, your ass would be out of my gym.”
“Did you really break up with her because your dad would pay her tuition?” Kaden asks.
All three of them stare at me in silence and I keep my fists tight in case they don’t agree with my decision. “Yeah, but by showing here I’ve negated the deal.”
“She wouldn’t have accepted the money,” says Jax. “Haley has more class than that.”
She has more class than to be with me. Jax may not have thrown a physical hit, but he landed a blow full of guilt. “I know that now.”
“Does this look like the YMCA, girls?” asks John. “We’ve got a week until the fight.”
Jax straps on his gear and I angle my body so John knows I’m talking to him alone, but I have no doubt Jax and Kaden are listening. “I don’t deserve her forgiveness, but when this is done...tell Haley I kept my word and she’s worth fighting for.”
John pats my shoulder as he enters the ring. “That she is. Now get changed and get your ass on my floor.”
Haley
I have never envied anyone in my life like I envy Maggie. Lying next to me, Maggie’s arms are flung over her head. One socked foot hangs off the bed; the other sockless foot has broken free of the blankets. Only her middle is covered. She breathes lightly, rhythmically and I wish I could share such deep, dreamless sleep.
When I sleep, I dream of West: of his smile, his laughter, his hands on me. We kiss and we touch and when our bodies are intertwined, West whispers he loves me and every time...I wake up feeling cold and alone and with tears.
Tonight, maybe I won’t sleep. Insomnia sounds like a wonderful habit.
For once, sleep isn’t a problem for my father. He’s turned away from me, tucked tightly in a ball on the other bed. Maybe this will mean he’s on some sort of road to recovery. Unfortunately, I’m pretty numb on hope.
“I don’t know, Dad...” Mom dragged the phone with her into the bathroom. She’s called John every night since we left and each night she emerges with red, puffy eyes. After John’s car broke down, we spent almost a week at my mother’s cousin’s house. Now, we’re back on the road. The door to the bathroom clicks open and a ray of light floods the cramped room.
“Haley,” whispers Mom. “Kaden wants to talk to you.”
I slide off the bed and Mom squeezes out of the bathroom as I slip in.
“Are you sure?” I ask. Kaden avoids conversation in person. He loathes phones.
Her answer is the closed door. Limited on options, I sit on the edge of the tub and press the phone to my ear. “Hello?”
“You need to come home, Hays. It’s West. He’s taking the fight.”
* * *
West Young broke up with me in a deal he made with his father. He was to leave the life he built behind and his dad would have paid for my college tuition. I briefly close my eyes. Stupid boy. Stupid, insanely sweet, going to get his ass kicked by me, stupid boy and I’m in love with him and West lied to me knowing I’d never agree.
He’s right. I wouldn’t have and I wonder how he thought I would have accepted the money, but none of that matters now.
Sitting on a bench outside the bus station, I grip the backpack hanging between my bouncing knees. It’s full of my clothes and the few precious items I won’t be separated with. When our house foreclosed, I had boxes and boxes of stuff I claimed as important. Funny how priorities change.
In the space in front of me, the bus’s motor purrs. Mom and I left a half hour ago, leaving a note for Dad. Maggie’s curled up on the bench beside mine, sound asleep and cradling her American Girl doll. The early morning air nips at my skin and I rub at the forming goose bumps.
Mom exits the office, sits on the bench next to me and lays the ticket on my lap. “Tell your grandfather I’m now trusting him with over half of my heart. It was hard enough to leave Kaden and Jax behind. Now the scale is completely imbalanced.”
Guilt eats at me as I handle the ticket. It was cheap, but it’s still money we don’t have. But Mom agreed. Returning for me is necessary. My knees continue to bounce as a chaotic ticker crosses my mind: I’m leaving my parents... I’m leaving my mom.
“Will you
promise me something?” she asks.
“Sure.” Anything.
“Don’t listen to the lie in your head keeping you from discussing what happened with you and Matt. Speaking out takes courage, but fear can make a compelling argument. I’m not saying it will be easy, but telling the truth gives you power...It sets you free.”
I nod, unable to say anything back. I can’t imagine saying the words out loud, but I can’t imagine living like this forever.
“Are you going back for West?” she asks.
“Yes... No...” The answer is both, but I say the simple truth. “I’m doing this for me.”
“Good. You’re a strong girl. Please don’t forget that.”
But I don’t feel strong. A huge part of me wants to crawl onto my mother’s lap and cling to her for dear life. All those years of holding her hand, the squeeze of her fingers stopping me when I attempted to cross the street before looking, the glances of approval, the hug after a hard day...her gentle presence in my life... I’m willingly leaving it behind.
My throat tightens. “What if I’m not ready to be on my own?”
“You’ve been on your own for a while and you’re just now figuring it out. You’ll always be my baby, Haley, just like I’ll always be your mom.”
She wraps her arm around me and I rest my head on her shoulder. When I was younger, my mom read to me every night. Back in our old home, back when life was simpler. She snuggled in my bed and brought peace and security. “Why did it have to change?”
“I don’t know,” she whispers. “But it did and all we can do is go forward.”
“I’m trying.” Air is harder to inhale. “But how do I walk away from you?”
“You aren’t walking away, baby. You’re growing up. But remember, I don’t care if you’re eighty and I’m a hundred and thirteen. I will always hold you, I will always love you and I will always be right here.”
West
I straddle a chair as John wraps the yellow strip of material across my hand. An official watches us in the corner to make sure John stays within regulation. He pulls each new layer taut and concentrates like he’s performing surgery. Outside the crowd roars and there’s no mistaking the anger. They hate it when the match goes to the floor. Matt and I are the last amateur fight on the card and the waiting is slowly killing me.