“I thought we were saying obvious things. Duh, I’m your favorite. I’m kind of amazing.” He gives my shoulder a gentle shove.
I try not to wince.
We finally get to our special spot, a partially shaded open space surrounded by trees. The cold water creek where we skipstones babbles behind the tall grass. Charger ambles to the shore, hunting for the perfect stick.
Danny picks up a twig and tosses it toward Charger. “Do you wanna eat at my house for lunch? Tessa’s still being picky, so it’ll probably just be peanut butter and?—”
“Yes.”
Danny laughs. “That was fast.”
His mom could be serving a plate of rocks sprinkled with dirt and I’d still want to go to his house.
We sit on our log in comfortable silence for a while, playing fetch with Charger and relaxing under the hot Ohio sun. I scoot under the tree so my fair skin doesn’t burn. With his light brown skin and dark features, Danny never burns.
He breaks the silence first, throwing the football in the air again. “Hey, Gracie, have you thought any more about what you wanna be when you grow up?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. Probably something with animals.” Animals love you no matter what, just like how Danny loves me. He doesn’t care about my stutter.
Doing my best to act normal, I turn up the volume of the boombox Danny brought with him, even though I don’t like the Goo Goo Dolls. Charger pays me extra attention, whining if I move too far away from him and nuzzling my leg.
“Gracie?”
My oversized T-shirt pools on the ground when I kneel down to give Charger a belly rub. Even though I’m right-handed, I pet him with my left, trying to hide my grimace of pain.
“Gracie? Are you listening to me?”
I look up through the curls curtaining my face. “Hmm? What did you say?”
“Okay, that’s it. What’s going on with you?”
“What d-do you mean?” Curling inward, I wrap my arms around my waist.
“Let’s see. You’ve been quiet all morning, you didn’t even care about the type of music on the boombox, you keep petting Charger with your left hand and wincing when you barely move your body. And, most of all, you’re stuttering. Are you okay?”
My eyes mist over and a tear trickles out. Danny watches it roll down my face, his eyes wide. I think the last time I cried was at Mama’s funeral a year ago.
“Gracie,” he pleads frantically. “Tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it. I hate it when you cry. Should I get my mom?”
“No. No, d-don’t get your mom,” I say quickly as I stand up straight. “I'm sorry, it’s nothing really.”
He takes a small step toward me, his eyes searching mine like he’s trying to find the truth. “You’re lying. I can tell. You’re biting the inside of your cheek.”
At this moment, I wish he didn’t know me better than anyone. I hesitate before whispering, “If I t-tell you, you have t-to promise not t-to t-tell anyone.”
“Okay…”
“I mean it, Danny. No one can know.”
Nodding, he gives me a shaky smile. He has no idea what he’s just agreed to.
“You know how my d-dad has b-been d-drinking more. Well, he came home last night really d-drunk, and…and angry. I forgot t-to t-take the wet clothes out of the washer and, well. Well, he…he…” I struggle to get the final words out.
Danny’s eyes scan my body, looking for visible injuries. He won’t find one—the bruises are underneath my shirt. “Did he…hurt you?”
He waits for me to tell him that he’s crazy, but my correction never comes. Bile rises in my throat.
“Gracie?” he says hoarsely.
