He takes a step toward me, and even though I want to back up and get away from him, I don’t.
“I may not have been able to find out where Lilly was—God knows I lost the right to that information a long time ago. But I’ve never stopped following your journey, Hendrix. So, while I won’t blame you if you tell me to get out of here and never come around you again, I just needed you to know. I didn’t come around because I didn’t want to cause any more pain in your life than I already had.”
I stare at this guy, realizing I don’t actually know who he really is. But every nightmare I lived through at his hands is etched into my brain like a permanent tattoo. I can’t forget. And I can’t forgive either.
When Coach Talmage and Coach Huff head toward us, making their way over to the bus, I swallow, gripping the strap of my bag nervously.
“I … I have to go,” I mumble. “My team is leaving.”
I only recognize the hurt on his face for a second before I look away. I should be basking in his pain, not cringing to see it. I know one thing to be true: I will never trust this man again.
“I understand.” I can hear the grimace in his voice. “Take care, son. And just know … I’m so sorry. And … I’m so proud of you.”
It feels like someone is stabbing a knife straight into my heart, and I have to get away right now. So I don’t say anything else. I just turn away from him and walk onto the bus.
And after the lights turn off and the door closes, we pull away from the curb. And I don’t look to see if he stays on the sidewalk and watches or turns his back.
Because either way, it doesn’t matter. I’m leaving him in the past because that’s where he belongs.
The bus drives on,and my mind keeps circling back to the man I left on the sidewalk. A heavy feeling tugs in my stomach, and I fucking hate myself for it because he doesn’t deserve my guilt.
I try to imagine if life would have been different for any of us if my mother hadn’t died. Maybe she would have gotten sober eventually and moved us out of that house. Or maybe my dad loved her so much that if she’d said to choose between her ordrugs, he would have chosen her, and we all would have lived happily ever after.
I picture my parents sitting at a dining room table on a Friday night, eating pizza and laughing. Sometimes, I would do that growing up because by the time I got old enough to look around and see everyone else’s lives and family dynamic, I wanted that for myself even though I couldn’t have it. My escape was my mind, until finally … hockey became my escape, and the teams I was on sort of became family. At least, they tried to, but I always seemed to sabotage every friendship I had. I think I wanted to sever ties before someone did it to me. Hurt them before they got a chance to hurt me first.
The picture of my family sitting at the table fades away, and I rest my head against the window, my mind traveling to a place that takes the guilt away. A place where I can sayfuck my old manand not feel bad about it.
“Mom?”I said again for what was probably the fifth time.
She was sleeping. She slept a lot, so that wasn’t surprising, and it usually took me a few tries to wake her up. This time though, her face was pale, and she didn’t look the way she had the other times. I reached for her hand, but when hers was cold, I pulled mine away.
Something wasn’t right, and I knew it. But whatever it was, I didn’t understand. How could I? I didn’t know what my parents were up to and why they always were out of it. I just assumed that was how most parents were.
My dad was in his bedroom—that was where he had been most of the day—and I knew better than to bother him when he had the door closed. I didn’t want to bother my mom either. Sometimes, she could be as mean as my dad was, but Lilly was crying. She needed something to eat, and I couldn’t findanything in our house. I was only five, for fuck’s sake. I didn’t know what to feed my toddler sister, and I couldn’t reach the top cabinets to check for crackers or something, even with a chair pushed over to it.
I looked at Lilly and was scared that if I didn’t feed her, if I didn’t make her stop crying, she wouldn’t make it. And without my sister, I didn’t have anyone else. She was it, and all she wanted was something to eat.
I took one last look at my mom before I glanced down the hallway at the closed door, and I reached for my little sister’s hand. “Come on, sissy,” I said.
What a sight we must have been—a five-year-old and a two-year-old walking down the shitty sidewalk, trudging toward their only form of salvation.
Juliet’s house.
I knew she would feed my sister without thinking twice, and I hoped that she had a clean Pull-Up for her too. I didn’t think my parents had bought them in a while, and I couldn’t find any in our house.
“I’m cold.” My sister said two words that maybe most people wouldn’t understand, but after being with her all day, every day, for the past few years, I knew what she was saying.
“Almost there,” I said back, pushing my long hair away from my face to see better. I held my finger up and pointed to Juliet’s small blue house. “See, right there, sissy,” I reassured her, like I was actually an adult or some shit.
A minute later, I was knocking on the door, and right away, we were greeted by Juliet. She took one look at both of us, and her eyes became glossy. She was always trying to help us once she knew we lived in that house. But unfortunately, our parents weren’t always the nicest to deal with.
“Get in here,” she said, yanking the door the rest of the way open. “Let’s get you fed, and then you’d both better take a bath.”
“Feed Lilly first. She’s very hungry.” I said even though my stomach rumbled.
I was the older one. It was my job to make sure Lilly was taken care of first. After all, no one else was going to help her besides Juliet and me.
“I’ll feed you both,” she answered sternly. “How about that?”
