Freeing Carter

  "His parents let her stay with them, since they were both eighteen and all. My dad's parents are awesome. He probably could have gone to any school he wanted because he was good at ball, but he stayed local. Went to school, they got a tiny apartment. His parents helped them a lot. They loved Mom. They helped her open her store, too. He was still in college when they had me. I think it was the first time she knew what it was like to have a real family. His parents moved to Washington when he died, but we still talk to them all the time."

  "It's like a fairytale," Kira whispers.

  "Yeah?"

  "Definitely. They loved each other a lot, didn't they?" Her voice is soft. She rolls toward me, so my hand drifts to her side.

  "Yeah... it was hard on her and Bill. She never loved him the way she did Dad."

  "I wonder if my mom has or had that kind of love. It sucks not knowing. I mean, I guess she couldn't have. Why would she have left me if she did, but I still wonder."

  Tell her. Tell her. Tell her. That I love her that way. That I would do the same things for her. That I love her the way Dad loved Mom. "You could always go ask her. Have you decided yet?"

  "No. I still don't know."

  My hand is big, splayed in the dip of her waist. She feels so small, so good.

  "You'll figure it out. You'll do the right thing, no matter which way you decide."

  She leans closer.

  I lean closer.

  My hand runs up her back, over her bra strap and back down, just needing skin to skin contact.

  "Are you going to kiss me or what, Coach?"

  I'm smiling against her lips, but then I can't concentrate enough to smile. Only enough to kiss her. She moans a little in my mouth and it's awesome. Knowing I affect her the same way she affects me. Rolling onto my back, I pull her with me so she's lying on top of me rather than the hardness of the truck. She kisses my neck. I kiss hers. Nips my earlobe. I do the same.

  Energy zips through my body. Maybe through my body, into her and back to me again.

  "Kira, " I whisper against her mouth.

  "Carter," she throws back at me.

  "I—" My phone beeps, contrasting the quiet.

  "Crap." I fumble for it. A sudden sickness wiping out all Kira's electricity.

  The name BILL lights up my screen.

  Pushing to sit up, I hit talk. Kira kind of rolls off me at the same time. "What's wrong?" I ask.

  "Nothing. Sara was having a bad day and wanted her mom so I brought her home a few hours ago. I just wanted to call and check in, but your mom must have let her phone die because it's going straight to voicemail."

  I feel like I died too. Sara is home. Sara is home with Mom on the anniversary of my dad's death. And I know she's been sober and she promised me she would be okay, but somehow, I know she's not. I probably knew when I left, but I went anyway. And my little sister is with her because I went out.

  I see that bottle sitting in the box. The very full bottle that she could drink. How drunk would that make her? For all I know, she could even have more. Would she wait until Sara is asleep? Why didn't I take it earlier? At least stay until she finished folding the clothes so I could take her bottle.

  "Carter? Are you there?" Bill's voice says. I'm climbing out of the truck. When did I move?

  "Yeah, I'm here. I'm sure everything is good. I'm actually on my way home right now."

  "Okay, well it's no biggie. I just wanted to check in."

  "All right. See you later." I try to sound calm, but as soon as the words leave my mouth, I hit end on the call. "Come on. We gotta go."

  Kira doesn't ask questions, just starts grabbing the blankets and helping me stuff them in the truck. A few seconds later, we're both in the cab, the truck is started and I'm peeling away. My hands are shaking as I grip the wheel.

  "Do you want me to drive?" Kira asks.

  "No."

  "Okay, slow down and be careful. It won't help if we don't get there okay."

  "Sara's home. Bill brought her home on the day my dad died? What was he thinking? Fuck! What was I thinking? I never should have left her."

  Kira mumbles a curse. "She said she was fine, right? I'm sure she's fine, Carter. She hasn't been drinking at all lately. I doubt she would do it with Sara. And if she is...you know it isn't your fault, right?"

  Her question isn't worth replying to. Fighting will just slow me down. How could things have changed so fast? I'd been laying there with Kira feeling free and now this. She's drinking with Sara and I know it, which means I'd known she would drink all along. Knew it, but I still left. Talk about selfish.

  The second we pull into the driveway, I run to the door. As soon as I have it unlocked, I toss my keys to Kira who ran up behind me. I don't want her to see this. Can't handle the thought of her hearing Mom slur my name, or need me to carry her up the stairs.

  "Take my truck home. I'll call you tomorrow and you can bring it back."

  "Carter."

  I turn to her. "Please, Kira. Just go. I can take care of it."

  Racing into the house, I slide to a stop at what I see. Mom lying across the couch. Black and purple bruises on one of her arms, like she fell or ran into something really hard. She's always bruised easy and quick, but this is bad. The coffee table is wiped free, her stupid knickknacks and candles scattered on the floor.

  And I can't move. My whole body is frozen, staring at Mom. A very drunk, passed out, Mom.

  Chapter Seventeen

  "Oh my God," Kira says from beside me. "Tell me she had that bruise before you left, Carter."

  I don't have it in me to say no. I don't have it to tell her to go home either. There's nothing, nothing inside me right now. "Sara..."

  Kira touches my arm and then runs for the stairs. I know I should do something. Be the one upstairs checking on Sara. Go over and try to help Mom, but I can't move. Am I broken? I feel it. Nothing on me will move.

  Rolling over, Mom groans, reaching her hand over to the table. It flops around, reaching for something that isn't there. The bottle that fell to the floor.

  And all of a sudden, I hate her. Hate everything about her. Hate that she can't get better. That she'd chosen this bottle over us. That she loved my dad so much she can't get over it. There have been times I've been mad at her, times where I hated what she does, or maybe thought I could one day hate her, but this is different. I really do hate her and I hate myself for it.

  "She's okay. She's asleep in her room. I made sure the door was closed." Each of Kira's hands, touch each of my shoulders as she leans against me. Still, I don't move. Can't. "I'm sorry, Carter. So sorry."

  But I can't talk either. I really do think I'm broken. That she broke me.

  "What should we do?"

  Her words push me into action. Loosen the ties, holding me in spot, but still not freeing me. "I'll take care of it. I'll put her to bed and tomorrow it'll be like nothing happened." I step out of her grasp. "You can go. I don't..." What? I don't want her to see? It's not like she hasn't seen enough. It's not like she doesn't know. I shake my head. "You shouldn't have to help."

  "Carter." She's in front of me now. "I know I don't have to, I want to. You don't have to do this on your own. Not anymore."

  Does it make me weak that I sag in relief? Because I do. I don't want to do it alone. I don't want to do it at all, but knowing someone will take some of the weight? Well, it doesn't make it better, but easier to handle. Reaching out, I let my finger travel down the side of her face. She steps closer and our foreheads come together, like they always do.

  "I hate her."

  "You don't."

  "I'm scared that I do." I breathe her air for another breath and then pull away, making my way to Mom. "Ma, come on. It's time to go to bed." Bending I try to pull her up, but it's as though my words have awoken something in her. Her eyes pop open and she
pushes my hand away.

  "I'm fine."

  My stomach lurches. I have to swallow the urge to vomit. "You're so not fucking fine, now come on." When I try to grab her, she slaps my hands away, pushing me and fighting me in a way she never has before.

  "Leave me alone. I can take care of myself." Her anger has taken away her typical slurred speech. My anger has taken away any need to be soft with her.

  "Prove it! If you can take care of yourself, I wouldn't be cleaning you up, again." My grip on her is harder than I've ever touched her, than I've ever touched another girl before and it's right on her bruise. Mom cries out, her scream piercing me.

  "Shit. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." And then Kira's there. Standing between us. Her eyes full of tears. Her face wet with them too.

  "We need to call someone. Let me call Bill."

  Fear spikes inside me. "He'll take Sara away from us. I can't." But I know that's not true either. There's no way I can't do something this time. "Just let me take care of it. I can do it."

  Slipping around Kira I bend down, eye to eye with her. Funny, there are tears in Mom's eyes too. Everyone is crying but me. "Mom, please. Let me help you. We'll get you to bed and then everything will be okay."

  Her eyes meet mine, sad. And I can't hate her. Not Mom. Because I can see that she loves me, how much she hates herself for what she's doing. But it still doesn't make it okay. This isn't the way to deal. Shouldn't be. Not for her, Travis, or anyone else. "Carter..."

  Without letting her finish, I lift her. She's dead weight in my arms. I feel the shoulder of my shirt getting wet with her tears. She's sobbing by now, and it hurts so much to see her like this.

  When we get to the top of the stairs, Kira stays out of her room, but it feels good to have her at my back. Knowing she's there, lingering in the doorway if I need her. If Sara needs her.

  I almost drop Mom when I try to put her on her feet. She stumbles, trying to catch herself on me. Her nails dig into the skin of my arm.

  "It's not fair! Why did they take him away from me?" she screams, swinging again. "Why does my dad hate me? Why can't I have Tommy? I'm tired. So tired. And you'll leave me soon too, Carter. How can I do it without you?"

  "I don't know. I don't know. I don't know." I can't stop saying the words over and over as I fight for her arms. As I wrap my arms around her from behind so she can't swing and hit anymore. You'll leave me soon too, Carter. How can I leave her like this?

  Mom's whole body collapses. Cries echoing in her room.

  "Do you need help?" Kira's voice whispers from behind me.

  "No, just stay. And close the door so she doesn't wake up Sara."

  That's when she starts to heave. I jerk her around before she vomits on her bed. There's a trail of it behind us as I help her to the bathroom. How many people have to hold their mom's hair back while they puke? I should be doing this for my girlfriend while we're at a party or even helping my best friend at a dance, but not this. Not her.

  She cries and pukes. Cries and pukes and I sit there with her. Kira's behind me, alternating between rubbing my back and walking out to check on Sara.

  "Are you sure we shouldn't call someone?" she asks later. We're in the bathroom, on the floor. She hasn't thrown up for about twenty minutes now. Mom's sleeping, her head resting on the toilet seat.

  "No. I think she's okay. If she does it again, we will." Wrong or right? I don't know. I've never known which side of the line I stand on. I want to be on the right one, but I just don't know anymore.

  For another fifteen minutes, we sit in silence. "I...I think she's okay now. She'll sleep it off." I stand up to lift Mom again, but Kira stops me.

  "Hold on." Plucking a washcloth from the wrack, she wets it and then wipes Mom's face and hands.

  "Thanks." My eyes won't meet hers. My girl just had to wash puke from my mom's face. It breaks another piece of me inside.

  Mom's easy to lift this time. I feel her breath against my cheek as I lower her to the bed. On the way out, I grab the monitor. Even though Sara's too old for one, Mom still keeps a monitor so she can hear everything that happens in her room.

  The second Kira closes Mom's door, I fall against the wall. And cry. Kira's seen my mom try to beat me up, cleaned up her vomit, and now I'm crying, crying in front of her.

  "It's okay. It's okay," she repeats, hugging and kissing me. But it's a lie. A liar like me should know a lie when I hear one right? Because I know it's not okay. I know what I'm going to have to do and I hate it.

  Fighting the tears, needing something else to ground me, I kiss Kira. She lets me, even kisses me back. Turning, I pin her to the wall, kissing her deeply. More, more, more. All I can think is I need more. Need her. Need to forget.

  I kiss down her neck. Her collarbone. All the while, she lets me. My hand slides under her shirt, up her belly and traces the edge of her bra, only stopping when her hand grabs my wrist. Immediately, I pull back.

  "I'm sorry. God, I'm so sorry. I don't know what got into me. I just want to forget, but I don't want to use you. Not for that."

  "I know. Carter, that's bad. What I just saw is really bad..."

  I shake my head. "Not now. I know, but I can't. Not right now."

  Her mouth is turned down, her eyes bright red as she looks at me, making me want to hide. Hide my weaknesses.

  "I need to check on Sara again."

  She nods and steps away. Quietly, I sneak into my sister's room. She's out cold, Barney wrapped in her arms. The picture Kira drew pinned above her bed. For her, I know I have to do what's right. "I won't let anything happen to you, Twig." And then I sneak out of her room, closing the door behind me.

  "You wanna take my truck? I can't leave, obviously." I don't even know why I just said that.

  With a shake of her head, Kira pulls her arms out from behind her back. She's holding my basketball that she must have grabbed from my room. "Play me."

  Her words are patches, trying to cover up some of the scrapes and bruises inside me. I need to forget and she's found a way to give that to me. "Okay." She tosses me the ball and we head downstairs. It's late, but I don't care. We leave the front door open, and I plug Sara's monitor into the outlet on the porch, making sure the volume is all the way up.

  "I'm wearing the right shoes this time, Coach." More patches. More band-aides.

  This is what I need to forget. With each smack of the ball hitting the pavement, each time I spin around Kira, make a shot, or steal the ball from her, I'm free. Any other time I would go easy on her, but I can't and I know she doesn't expect it tonight. She's here to free me. To let me float away from my life for a little while. Each time the ball soars through the air, it's really me.

  Did Dad use basketball the way I do? Was it his escape from life, if he needed it? Was it always there when nothing else went right? As I jump, shoot and fade backward, as the ball goes forward, I wonder about Travis. He'd be there for me too. Be what basketball is to me, if I ever would have trusted him. Just like I would have been to him if he'd done the same. The way Kira's here, because I let her in, panting and chasing me around my basketball court because she knows it's what I need.

  I catch the ball and shoot again, but this time it bounces off the rim and goes into the bushes. When she tries to go after it, I stop her, taking her gently by the wrist and pulling her to me. "You're the girl who took the time to see what I tried to hide from everyone else. The girl who broke into a Jacuzzi with me, to steal my secrets and give me yours. You're the one who looks gorgeous with purple hair, orange hair, or black hair. You're just as comfortable in combat boots as heels or my Nikes."

  I step closer to her. "You're the one who helped me with my homework. You're the straight A student who loves to dance on tables. You love Lana like a mother. You love my little sister like she's yours and never make her feel weird or different. You're the one who doesn't think twice to wi
pe vomit off my mom's mouth, or try anything new. You're the one who wore a jersey with my name on it and made me win the game. When no one else did, you saw me and you drew me. That's who you are. It doesn't matter about your mom. Meet her or not, who she is has nothing to do with who you are. There's no one else like you. I—"

  Kira's finger on my mouth stops me, just like she did the first night we kissed. "Shh. Don't say it in the heat of the moment. Not tonight when your emotions are wild. You might regret it. I'll think you only said it because you're so raw from everything else. Just...don't."

  Nodding, I smile. "I wouldn't regret it. Never. But I can wait, too."

  "Mommy! Help!" Sara's voice breaks the night.

  "Nightmares," I say to Kira before I run inside and up the stairs. I push into Sara's bedroom and am by her bed. "Shhh, Twig. I'm here."

  "Closet. Look, Carter."

  I walk over to the closet and look inside, pushing the clothes out of the way. "See? Nothing here."

  She looks over the side of the bed. "Down there. Look, Carter."

  Bending down, I look under the bed too. "It's just us. No one's here. I promise." Promise I'll take care of her too.

  "Where's Mommy? I want Mommy." Sara starts to cry. Anger threatens me again, but I fight it down.

  "She's sick, Twig. Mommy doesn't feel good. Can I hang out with you?"

  I hand her, her glasses and she puts them on, then shouts, "Kira! Kira!" Sara starts bouncing up and down on the bed.

  "Hey, kid. Oh, look you hung my picture up. It looks pretty up there." Kira shrugs at me, unsure of what to do.

  "You're pretty. Oh, can we have a sleepover? Please." The rest of her words are excited mumbles.