Page 8 of Running Risk


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Skipping across the yard and into the woods, I climb the fence that separates our property from the Daniels’. Clayton said he would be home after running errands with his mom, and I have to tell him that I finally passed my CPR class. I’ve been wanting to start babysitting for local families and earn extra money, but my parents said this safety course was a requirement.

As I get closer, a booming voice echoes from inside the house, and all the muscles in my body tense. Mr. Daniels has never been the nicest man, but I’ve never heard him yell. My footsteps falter when the front door bursts open as Mr. Daniels barrels outside. His hands are in his hair like he’s physically trying to pull it out by the root. When his red-rimmed eyes land on me, I slowly start to back away.

“Of course, you’re here!” he shouts, swinging an arm in my direction.

My eyes go wide, and I’m confused because I don’t know why he would say that to me. But there’s no one else out here,and he’s looking right at me. “What?” my voice breaks, barely getting the word out.

He shakes his head. “He’s inside with his mother. No doubt she’s coddling him.”

My eyebrows lower as I try to understand. I’ve had very few interactions with him, so I’m not as comfortable around him as I am with Clayton and his mom. My eyes jump to the house when Clayton comes outside. His expression is frantic as he looks to his dad before landing on me. He walks closer, but his footsteps aren’t rushed as he comes toward me, leaving a large space to separate him from his dad.

His dad smirks as his gaze narrows on Clayton. “Is your mom still crying?”

Clayton goes still as soon as he’s in front of me, like he’s shielding me from his dad. “Yeah,” he says over his shoulder. His voice lowers so only I can hear. “Come on, let’s go to your house.”

I nod, and he grabs my hand as we walk away.

“Be sure to tell good ole Mike that I said, hello,” Mr. Daniels shouts as we walk farther away before his truck engine roars, and he’s peeling out of the drive. Clayton’s footsteps quicken at his dad’s words.

“Why did he say that about my dad?” I ask.

Clayton shakes his head and finally lets go of my hand once we get to the fence. “He’s had a little too much to drink, and it makes him say things.”

“Oh. Is he like that a lot?” I follow him over the fence.

He shrugs but doesn’t say anything. His hands ball into fists at his sides.

“Do you need to run?” I nudge him with my shoulder.

“Yeah, but let’s hang in the treehouse for a bit.”

I smile. “I’ll race you.”

We take off running as fast as we can, and once we get to the ladder, his shoulders aren’t up to his ears anymore. Just that little distance has already helped ease the tension in his body.

“Come on. Now, you have to help me figure out all the families I’m going to babysit for so I can bring in all the money.”

He chuckles. “You passed?”

“Duh,” I call out as I climb the ladder.

“I knew you would.”

Clayton has always believed in me, even when I struggle to believe in myself, and now I want to make sure he knows I’m here for him too. It was hard seeing his dad treat him that way. I just wish there was something I could do.

“Rylee,are you sure you’re okay with this?” Mrs. Daniels asks as she puts the lasagna in the oven for the twins and me to have for dinner.

“It’s not a problem.” I smile, sitting on the floor surrounded by toys and the toddlers on both sides of me. I love playing with Clayton’s younger sisters. They are fun to be around. Plus, I’ve always wished I had another sibling to play with. This is like the best of both worlds. I get to play with them, and they can’t get into my stuff.

“Okay, you have our numbers, the number for the emergency pediatrician, and their grandparents’ number.”

I nod. “I can also call my parents, and they said they could be over in less than five minutes if I need any kind of help.”

Her shoulders visibly relax, remembering those little details my mom has already told her. She hasn’t left the twins before, and they’re almost two. My mom said the first time you leave your child, even for a few hours, is hard, so I want tomake sure Mrs. Daniels is as comfortable with me watching them as possible.

“Okay. I’m sorry I’m being crazy.”

I shake my head. “It’s fine.”