“Mom and Dad, these are my friends. Hunter beat up his teacher.” She points to me, and I almost swallow my own tongue. What the hell?
“Stray’s mom was an addict. He likes to cut. Casey has anxiety, but he’s a kickass clarinet player.”
Anger rolls through me like a storm. She has no right sharing our business with them, and I can’t help but notice that Casey is the only one she said anything good about.
“Hi,” Stray says, like she didn’t just sell us out, and Casey whispers a hello.
“Hello. It’s very nice to meet you,” her mom manages to squeeze past her tight lips, but it’s not nice. Any of us can see that. Rosie’s parents’ eyes roam over us in apparent disgust.
“We must go, Rosalinda. Walk us out.” Her dad turns without another word. They don’t even try to lower their voices as they retreat with her. “You are not here to make friends with people like that. You are supposed to be getting better. We can’t have you back in our home if you’re still going to be doing the same things. You are not good.”
As pissed as I am at Rosie, her dad’s words hit me in the chest. What do they mean she’s not good? Rosie cares about people more than anyone I know.
“You’re not walking the right path,” her mom adds. “Suicide is a sin. I saw the scars on his wrist.” And that’s all I hear because they step outside.
“What the hell?”
Stray’s hand is at his wrist, rubbing the scars there. “Don’t listen to her. Screw them.” My thumb brushes over the raised skin at his wrist when I separate his hands. As much as I hate that his scars are there, I don’t want Stray to feel bad about them. He can’t help it.
He looks up at me, a half grin on his lips. “It’s okay. I’m used to it. It’s cute that you care, though.”
My stomach flips, and I suddenly want to kiss him again, but then the door hits the wall when Rosie comes back in.
“Ugh. See what I have to deal with? They’re so fucking judgmental. They don’t care about anyone but themselves.”
“Hey.” I step to the side when she tries to put her arm around me. Rosie’s eyebrows pull together. “You had no right to tell them that stuff about us. That’s not cool.”
Rosie’s body language changes, almost like she’s stepped into Casey or something, like she doesn’t have the strength to hold herself up. “I didn’t mean… that was about them… not to hurt you. I would never…. You guys are….”
“W-w-we know.” Casey relaxes into her when she pulls him into a hug. Stray gives me a small smile and shrugs like it’s not a big deal.
It feels like one to me. But then, I’m the guy who never wants to talk, so maybe it is just me, and I need to chill out.
“Let’s forget about them. You guys want to forget about this day, right? Let’s just have fun. I want to have fun!” Rosie grins widely.
“Live in the moment,” Stray says.
My annoyance is still there, though. She threw us under the truck, but no one else seems to be worried about it.
But then, before we have the chance to do anything, Rosie’s psychiatrist comes out and says she needs to talk to her.
We sort of hang around waiting for her to get finished. When she does, Rosie shrugs and says everything is fine, that they’re just being lame. But it feels like more than that. It almost feels like I’m seeing a new side of her. Like there are pieces of Rosie I didn’t know existed.
We don’t do anything fun together that evening—just sit in the movie room and watch TV.
Being mad now seems petty; not that I didn’t have a reason, but that sometimes those reasons don’t have to hold you back, because doing something fun with them would have felt a lot better than this does.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I WANT to do something reckless.
Stray’s said it before—that you never know what’s going to happen or where you’re going to go, so it’s best to grab what you want when you want it. It’s best to enjoy it while you have the chance. I heard it but never let the words sink in. There was always too much anger, pain, regret, or guilt there, shoving everything else out of the way.
My gut aches because we lost Bethany. The hurt and rage is still there, simmering under the surface, but then I think about how it felt when we just sat in that movie room tonight—separate even though we were together. I don’t want to miss out. Any of us could get sent home or to another facility at any moment. These people—Casey, Rosie, and Stray—my friends… I don’t want to lose them. More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life, I need to soak up every second I can with them.
Especially Stray. I want to touch his freckles and taste his lips. I want to laugh with him and talk to him and show him how awesome he is so he never wants to hurt himself again.
“Casey?” Looking over at him in the dark room, I know he’s awake.
“Yeah?” His voice is soft, broken, and I’m not sure how we can get him back. He was so stoked after seeing his parents, and then crushed after meeting Rosie’s. He’s a yo-yo of emotions.
“We can’t lose you too.” It’s not what I planned to say. I don’t know what I did think we would talk about. It’s not like Casey would be the guy who’d want to sneak out with me, or to have it in him to try and just live.
“You won’t,” he whispers. And then, “I’m trying.”
“I know.”
“Bethany just… she got me. I—the rest of you, you’re stronger than we are. I w-w-want to make her proud, so I’m trying.”
The anger tries to bleed again. It sucks that we have to be like this, that we have to feel this way and struggle just to stay even. That our emotions can change in a split second for no reason. It shouldn’t have to be so hard just to live.
I never knew what hard was before. My life was a dream, this perfect place, one of those families you see on TV. I didn’t know what lurked in my own family… and I didn’t understand that people like Stray, Rosie, Casey, and Bethany existed. Before, I might have laughed it off. Thought they were crazy or overreacted. I never would have seen how special they are. I never would have seen what other people live through. “Stray says we have to enjoy things while we can. I just….” Do this, Hunter. You owe it to yourself. Maybe you owe it to Casey too. “It’s hard…. How do I know if I deserve it? And even if I don’t, I want to take advantage of everything while I can.”
Walking into my house on a night I was supposed to be gone turned my whole existence on its axis. Altered it. Altered me.
One decision from Bethany did the same thing to her. The same could be true for Stray, Rosie, and Casey. Any of us, really.
One decision can change everything, and we never know when it will happen.
“You’re not who I thought you’d be,” he says.
“I’m not who I thought I’d be either.”
“It makes me feel normal, watching you and Stray. Being with Rosie. I’ve never felt normal.”
What the hell is normal? My life before seemed like it was the most normal you could get, but it was a lie. Normal used to be all I wanted, and now I’m not sure if it even exists. If it does… “You’re normal with or without us. You are who you are. Maybe that’s the only normal there really is—being true to who you are.”
The sheets rustle, and I can tell Casey’s rolling over. “Th-thank you.” He takes a deep breath, and then, “Do you want to spend the night with Stray?”
“Huh?” Talk about something coming out of nowhere.
“We’re supposed to be taking advantage of things while we have the chance, right? Bethany took a chance. Rosie takes them every day…. I’m the one who cries and can’t get my words out. Do you think I could change too? Maybe if you’re not who you thought you would be, I don’t have to be either.”
Still totally lost on where he’s going with this, I say, “You don’t have to be.” I’m not sure if the words are true or not. Hopefully they are. I want to believe we can be who we want to be. Regardless, it’s the right thing to say to C
asey. “What does this have to do with staying the night with Stray?”
“I’m a follower.” His voice cracks, the space filled with all the pain in the world.
“We all are.”
“I c-can’t… I never…. Everything scares me. I don’t do anything without Stray, Rosie, or Bethany leading me. Before them, I had no one. Not people my age. My parents try. They love me. I think they would be the happiest parents in the world if I got into some trouble, if I did some of the things other kids do.”
My mind is still trying to work through exactly what Casey is saying, but then he’s sitting up and flipping the lamp on. “We could change places. I can sneak into Stray’s room, cover my head. I sleep that way anyway. Then he could be in here with you. If you heard them coming, he could cover his head too. W-w-we wouldn’t get caught… if we did… it’s okay if we do.” There’s a tremble to his voice that says he really wouldn’t be okay with getting caught. He wants it to be, and I think it’s pretty cool that he does.
I want this for Casey—not like that’s the only reason I want it. It’s something little, but it’s his way to try and be “normal,” whatever that is. “Are you sure? I don’t want to do it if you’re not sure.” But there’s a little buzz already beneath my skin, and I’m really, really hoping he’s sure. The whole night with Stray. The whole night not to be the kids who can’t deal or handle our lives. A night to be invincible.
Casey shrugs, and even I can see it’s a struggle to move his shoulders. He has the weight of the whole world on them. “I d-d-don’t do anything for you guys. It’s you guys who are always doing something for me.”
My words come out without a second thought. “You’re our friend. That’s what you do for us. Even the first night, you tried to be my friend. If it weren’t for you guys, I don’t think I could make it in here.” I know for sure I wouldn’t have made it if I stayed out there. They saved me, and I want to do the same for them, the way I wish I could have done for Bethany.
“Let’s do it.” Casey gets up. I tell him to wait. I want to go talk to Stray first.
We’re pretty lucky because Mills is on tonight. That means we technically shouldn’t get a room check for hours. Putting my ear to the door, I listen for movement in the hallway. When there isn’t any, I sneak out, heading right for Stray’s door. There’s no choice except to walk in, but then we’re all used to that anyway. He’ll think it’s a room check and hopefully be happy that it’s me.
Pushing the door open, I whisper, “Stray?” My gaze falls on his bed. It’s empty, made, the other one next to it the same. “Hey, it’s Hunter.” Quietly as I can, I close the door.
There’s a light shining under his bathroom door, a soft glow in an otherwise dark room. But there’s something else there too, a shadow on the edge, as though someone’s sitting on the floor.
It’s the same kind of soft light I saw in Holly’s room that night. The same shadow, except hers was smaller—Rex, her favorite stuffed animal, where he’d fallen to the carpet.
It’s a new detail that I hadn’t remembered, and I shake my head, trying to get away from it. The last thing I need is to get drawn into that night right now. And I won’t, so I take a step forward, and then another. I don’t know how I know it, but Stray needs me. I won’t let him down, won’t let anyone down, ever again.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
THERE’S A fist in my gut. A hand wrapped around my throat. My heart. Every important organ I have. “Stray?” My voice is raspy as I slowly pull the door toward myself, opening it. Please be okay. I need you to be okay. No. I shake my head. This isn’t about me. It’s about Stray. He needs to be okay for himself.
“I was going to knock on the wall. Hope you heard me. That it would help. But then… why do I want to hurt? Why do I need to hurt?” He doesn’t look up at me from where he’s sitting on the floor, his blue hair hanging, hiding his face. “I deserve to hurt.”
There’s a small piece of metal in his left hand, pressed to the skin of his right forearm. His hand is shaky, but there’s no blood. No new cut.
I think my heart falls out. I can’t feel it anymore. Maybe it’s broken or lost.
“You don’t deserve to hurt.” I step inside. Close the door. Sit down next to him. Reaching out, I see if he’ll let me take it from him, but he pulls back. “None of us deserve to hurt….” Bethany didn’t. Holly didn’t. Rosie and Casey don’t.
“Stray,” I say. He lifts his red eyes, showing me his wet face. My hand shakes the same way his does when I push his hair off his forehead. I don’t want to screw this up. I’m scared to death of fucking it up. “You’ve been bleeding too long.”
“You’re bleeding too.” His hand is still trembling, and the metal is still against his skin, but his eyes are on mine. They’re on me, and I think everything in the whole world might start to be okay if I can make him feel better.
“I know.”
“When are you going to stop?” he asks.
“I’m trying.” We’ve thrown those words around so much. We’re always trying. Sometimes it’s all we can do, but is it enough? I’m not sure. “I don’t want to be in a world where someone like you has to hurt.”
“That’s the way the world is, Hunter. We all feel pain.” He sounds… resigned. Like this is his life. He’s not the boy who took me riding. He’s not the boy who stuck up for Casey that first day. He’s not the boy who wants to enjoy everything he can while it lasts. He’s not even the boy lost in the ocean, far from shore.
Maybe he’s the boy who cut his arms so deep they thought he wanted to kill himself.
“I can’t let you do this… I’ll have to tell.”
“They’ll send me away, and I’ll be gone like Bethany.”
Would they really? Would they really send him away? There’s a cramp in my stomach. An ache in my chest. No… I can’t lose him too… “If it saves you, that’s all that matters.”
I can’t help but wonder if our hands are trembling to the same beat, if they’re shaking in unison, as I hold mine out. Stray pauses. The pressure he’s using to press the metal to his arm decreases, more and more, until he pulls it away from his skin. Before he hands it to me.
And I breathe. I didn’t even realize I’d stopped.
Maybe this is the way it’ll always be for us—not just me and Stray, but Rosie and Casey too. Maybe we’ll never truly be okay. There might be good times, but the bad will always be lurking. Maybe we’ll always need someone to pull us back from the edge.
We’re lucky to have each other to do it.
“You said you don’t hold back because you never know when you’re going to lose something…. So let’s not hold back. Let’s just pretend. Enjoy each other the way Bethany wanted. For the rest of the time we’re here, let’s just have fun.”
Stray shakes his head. “Pretending never lasts.”
“Maybe nothing does.” My family’s happiness didn’t last. Bethany didn’t. All of Stray’s foster parents didn’t. Maybe the saying is right and nothing gold ever stays, so all we can do is live in the moment. “I couldn’t save Holly, or Bethany. Let me help you.”
Stray shakes his head. “You can’t save me, just like I can’t save you.”
But he could try. He wanted to try. And so do I.
“How did you let her down?” Stray asks.
My vision gets blurry. The metal in my hand digs into my palm. I have to do this. I know I have to do it. “My dad… he touched her. I didn’t stop him.”
Stray sucks in a sharp breath. It echoes through the quiet bathroom. “You didn’t know.”
He doesn’t know that, and maybe I should have known.
“It’s not your fault.”
That’s not what I came here for. Tonight, every night and day until I leave, I just want to have fun. Be the Hunter I want to be. The one they’re helping me be.
It’s kind of like what Rosie always says, the way she wants to just live. I want that too.
“Casey wants to trade pla
ces with you. You can come in my room and stay all night. We can draw on you.” I reach out, touch Stray’s arm, let my fingers take in the rough scars and raised flesh. We can make something beautiful on him instead of letting him bleed again.
“Why?” he asks, and it reminds me of the times I’ve asked him. We could ask that about everything. Why was Stray’s mom on drugs? Why is Casey anxious? Why did my dad hurt Holly? Why can’t Rosie’s parents understand her? Who knows if the answers really matter. There could be a reason, or not. The only one I have for him right now is how I feel.
“Because you make me feel good, when I didn’t think I’d ever feel good again. The world feels right when we hang out—not because we’re perfect, the way I always thought I was. Maybe because we’re broken.”
“Okay.” Stray shrugs.
I push to my feet, slipping the metal into my pocket. I have to get rid of it, but I don’t want to throw it in Stray’s trash, where he can find it again, or where the staff will see it. Reaching down, I hold my hand out for Stray. We latch on, and I feel just the way I wanted to. Reckless. Two boys sneaking out to talk, and maybe make out all night.
There’s a chance I feel a little more than I thought, as well. I think I’m feeling a little in love.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
“I SUCK at drawing.” I drag the tip of a black marker down Stray’s left arm, swirl it around, making a spiral. He’s right-handed, and drawing Scooby Doo on his right thigh.
“So?”
I’ve never touched a real canvas before, and I wonder if it’s rough like his skin. My skin doesn’t feel that way, but then I’ve never tried to ruin mine by taking sharp edges to it. Still, Stray’s softer than I am in the ways that matter.
“I just keep making swirls.”
Stray laughs quietly. “It’s not a competition, Hunter. Yours are from you.” He shrugs. “That makes them better than mine.”