Until Friday Night
Page 12
Gunner smirked. “You gonna let him walk away on both his legs?”
“No.”
Gunner laughed in response. “I’ll be Instagraming that shit.”
Mr. Halter came into the room and started giving us reading instructions. Thank God, I’d get a nap in this class.
“My mom told me that girl saw her daddy kill her momma,” Gunner whispered, leaning toward me. “That’s fucked up.”
What the hell was he talking about?
“Huh?” I asked as I turned back to him.
“Brady’s cousin. She don’t talk because she watched her daddy shoot her momma. He’s in prison or on death row or something. My mom said she’s mental now.”
My stomach turned and twisted up in knots. I didn’t want to believe that. Not for Maggie. Hell, not for anyone, but especially not for Maggie. She was kind. She didn’t lash out or mistreat anyone. Even me, who she should have slapped at least three times now. There was no anger behind her gaze. Only a loneliness I wanted to ignore. But what Gunner was saying . . . That kind of horror would completely ruin a person.
Gunner’s mother was famous for gossip and thought she knew everything in town. I wanted this to be wrong. But what if it was true? How was she living with that kind of nightmare?
Okay
CHAPTER 7
MAGGIE
You’re still not answering my texts. What’s up with that?
It was the fifth text from Nash today. I had been ignoring him, even if it was rude. I was done with everyone connected to Brady and the all-important football team. I had also seen West confront Nash in the hallway after jumping all over me about the text. I didn’t have time for this drama. I wanted no part of it.
I knew I should explain to Nash why I wasn’t going to be texting him. He deserved an explanation. I’d do that during lunch. Yesterday Brady had sat with me outside at the picnic tables, but it had been awkward. He obviously didn’t want to.
I’d sent him a text this morning telling him he didn’t need to sit with me at lunch today. I was ready to figure this out on my own. He had responded with a simple yeah.
“You gonna answer him?” I recognized West’s voice.
I glanced up to see him walking beside me. His eyes weren’t on me, just glaring straight ahead. From the frown on his face I knew he was unhappy with Nash texting me. Not like I cared about that—I was ignoring Nash to detach myself from all things Brady. Since that was what would give me the most peace at home and at school. But I was tired of people telling me what to do. Especially this person. Someone who had no right to tell me who I could and couldn’t talk to.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket.
“Good girl. Ignore him. Save us all a helluva lot of trouble. I’ll make him pay for this shit if he keeps it up,” West warned without once looking at me.
My face felt hot as his condescending words rang in my head. He had no right to speak to me that way. Just because I didn’t speak, didn’t make me ignorant.
“Okay!” I snapped. It took only a second for the realization to wash over me that I’d spoken out loud. He’d made me so angry, I just blurted it out. My skin broke out into a cold sweat. I would not lose it. I was fine. It was just one word.
His eyes were on me now. Confusion and disbelief as he stared down at me. I glanced up at him, wanting desperately to run from this or somehow erase it. The word had just burst free without difficulty or pain. But my memories . . . I didn’t want those to come out with the sound of my voice.
“Did you just . . .” He trailed off as if trying to decide whether he had really heard me speak. I didn’t confirm or deny it. I simply stood there staring up at him. I wouldn’t say more. Maybe he would think he imagined it.
He shook his head and then turned and stalked off down the hallway. The crowd parted for him, too. Just like it did for Brady. I reached up and touched my lips with my fingertips. What was it about West Ashby that made my mouth have a mind of its own? First I let him kiss me without even knowing him. And now I said something without even thinking about it.
When he turned the corner and was finally gone from my sight, I inhaled and dropped my hand back to my side. I had actually said something. That had been a piece of me I’d lost— the girl who didn’t take whatever anyone threw at her but who stood up for herself—and she’d broken free for a moment. I hadn’t had that instinct, or any control over my voice, in two years. And West, even if it was because he acted like a jerk, had made that possible.
My phone vibrated in my pocket again. All I could hope for was that West didn’t tell anyone what he’d heard. I wasn’t ready to speak. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to hear my voice again. I wasn’t ready for any connection with people.
I pulled my phone back out and sent a text to Nash: Please leave me alone. I don’t want to be friends. Think about how this would affect Brady. Stop texting me. And talking to me.
I pressed send and went to find the library. I would just start reading during lunchtime. Making myself as invisible as possible.
The pep rally was after lunch on Friday. Cheerleaders had spent the day in their uniforms and doing cheers in the hallways to drum up school spirit. The football players’ lockers were easy to recognize, since they had been decorated with balloons, hearts, and posters.
Today Brady walked through the halls as if he owned the place. More so than he usually did. His name was chanted often, and he beamed whenever a chant started up. Between classes the cheerleaders even had the entire hallway doing cheers for him. I couldn’t imagine that after all this, we even needed a pep rally. I’d been a cheerleader once, but I didn’t recall ever having this much spirit on game day. Seemed like overkill.
“No.”
Gunner laughed in response. “I’ll be Instagraming that shit.”
Mr. Halter came into the room and started giving us reading instructions. Thank God, I’d get a nap in this class.
“My mom told me that girl saw her daddy kill her momma,” Gunner whispered, leaning toward me. “That’s fucked up.”
What the hell was he talking about?
“Huh?” I asked as I turned back to him.
“Brady’s cousin. She don’t talk because she watched her daddy shoot her momma. He’s in prison or on death row or something. My mom said she’s mental now.”
My stomach turned and twisted up in knots. I didn’t want to believe that. Not for Maggie. Hell, not for anyone, but especially not for Maggie. She was kind. She didn’t lash out or mistreat anyone. Even me, who she should have slapped at least three times now. There was no anger behind her gaze. Only a loneliness I wanted to ignore. But what Gunner was saying . . . That kind of horror would completely ruin a person.
Gunner’s mother was famous for gossip and thought she knew everything in town. I wanted this to be wrong. But what if it was true? How was she living with that kind of nightmare?
Okay
CHAPTER 7
MAGGIE
You’re still not answering my texts. What’s up with that?
It was the fifth text from Nash today. I had been ignoring him, even if it was rude. I was done with everyone connected to Brady and the all-important football team. I had also seen West confront Nash in the hallway after jumping all over me about the text. I didn’t have time for this drama. I wanted no part of it.
I knew I should explain to Nash why I wasn’t going to be texting him. He deserved an explanation. I’d do that during lunch. Yesterday Brady had sat with me outside at the picnic tables, but it had been awkward. He obviously didn’t want to.
I’d sent him a text this morning telling him he didn’t need to sit with me at lunch today. I was ready to figure this out on my own. He had responded with a simple yeah.
“You gonna answer him?” I recognized West’s voice.
I glanced up to see him walking beside me. His eyes weren’t on me, just glaring straight ahead. From the frown on his face I knew he was unhappy with Nash texting me. Not like I cared about that—I was ignoring Nash to detach myself from all things Brady. Since that was what would give me the most peace at home and at school. But I was tired of people telling me what to do. Especially this person. Someone who had no right to tell me who I could and couldn’t talk to.
I slipped my phone back into my pocket.
“Good girl. Ignore him. Save us all a helluva lot of trouble. I’ll make him pay for this shit if he keeps it up,” West warned without once looking at me.
My face felt hot as his condescending words rang in my head. He had no right to speak to me that way. Just because I didn’t speak, didn’t make me ignorant.
“Okay!” I snapped. It took only a second for the realization to wash over me that I’d spoken out loud. He’d made me so angry, I just blurted it out. My skin broke out into a cold sweat. I would not lose it. I was fine. It was just one word.
His eyes were on me now. Confusion and disbelief as he stared down at me. I glanced up at him, wanting desperately to run from this or somehow erase it. The word had just burst free without difficulty or pain. But my memories . . . I didn’t want those to come out with the sound of my voice.
“Did you just . . .” He trailed off as if trying to decide whether he had really heard me speak. I didn’t confirm or deny it. I simply stood there staring up at him. I wouldn’t say more. Maybe he would think he imagined it.
He shook his head and then turned and stalked off down the hallway. The crowd parted for him, too. Just like it did for Brady. I reached up and touched my lips with my fingertips. What was it about West Ashby that made my mouth have a mind of its own? First I let him kiss me without even knowing him. And now I said something without even thinking about it.
When he turned the corner and was finally gone from my sight, I inhaled and dropped my hand back to my side. I had actually said something. That had been a piece of me I’d lost— the girl who didn’t take whatever anyone threw at her but who stood up for herself—and she’d broken free for a moment. I hadn’t had that instinct, or any control over my voice, in two years. And West, even if it was because he acted like a jerk, had made that possible.
My phone vibrated in my pocket again. All I could hope for was that West didn’t tell anyone what he’d heard. I wasn’t ready to speak. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to hear my voice again. I wasn’t ready for any connection with people.
I pulled my phone back out and sent a text to Nash: Please leave me alone. I don’t want to be friends. Think about how this would affect Brady. Stop texting me. And talking to me.
I pressed send and went to find the library. I would just start reading during lunchtime. Making myself as invisible as possible.
The pep rally was after lunch on Friday. Cheerleaders had spent the day in their uniforms and doing cheers in the hallways to drum up school spirit. The football players’ lockers were easy to recognize, since they had been decorated with balloons, hearts, and posters.
Today Brady walked through the halls as if he owned the place. More so than he usually did. His name was chanted often, and he beamed whenever a chant started up. Between classes the cheerleaders even had the entire hallway doing cheers for him. I couldn’t imagine that after all this, we even needed a pep rally. I’d been a cheerleader once, but I didn’t recall ever having this much spirit on game day. Seemed like overkill.
