Daddy lifted his chin, a mix of sadness and rage swirling in his eyes, and said, “Why did you let this happen, Cal?”
Shrugging off the question would be the easy way out.I dunnowould probably make them stop asking and move on. But they should know. After all the shit they put Cara and me through, after all that we’d endured as a family, I wasn’t going to let this chance pass. I’d keep cleaning that wound until it could heal with fresh air. No more buried pain.
“When I asked for help and my own parents didn’t care enough to listen, why should I care about myself either?”
“Cal…” Momma’s chin shivered. “That’s not true.”
“Maybe you believe that, but I don’t.” I sniffed, then wiped my nose with the back of my hand. “Y’all never said it outright, but it came across loud and clear. We weren’t important enough.”
Daddy placed a surprisingly gentle hand on Momma’s shoulder and pulled her to make room for himself. He squinted and pressed around my chest, examining me in doctor mode. “Sara, what did the school say when they called you?”
Momma sputtered, “I-I only got a message that Cal had detention for fighting. Then your message that you’d made arrangements for Cara to leave school with a friend.”
Daddy nodded without a reply. After checking my arm, he let go and said, “Why don’t you tell us what happened?”
I glanced at Cara, and Momma heard my unspoken plea. My little sister, grown beyond her years, didn’t need to hear any of this.
Cara griped the entire way, but Momma got her upstairs and came back down a few minutes later.
“I dunno when it started exactly,” I said. “Sasha did little things, most of it just cutting me down with words. Then she got rough, pinching me and stuff.” As disconnected as I could be, like reciting answers for a test at school, I laid out how Sasha had steadily grown more hateful and hurtful. How she’d cried and made a scene if I so much as attempted to defend myself against her. She knew where to leave marks that wouldn’t be too obvious, and she knew all too well how I’d been struggling with my self-worth and how to poke that emotional sore spot over and over until it bled.
Then I told them about her forcing herself on me and harassing me and even Cara after I broke up with her. And then today, how Sasha had flipped out in front of students, how her target had been Jack, but I’d stepped in the way.
Daddy’s jaw tensed and ticked. When I finished, he took a deep breath and rubbed the bridge of his nose.
Momma looked at Daddy. “Something needs to be done about this girl.”
“I’ll have a chat with the school and make sure we get some answers. I don’t want that girl near Cal. We need to get a police report filed too.”
“Wait,” I breathed, suddenly drained and unbelievably exhausted. I blinked slowly and swayed on my feet. Daddy stepped to my side and steadied me. I would’ve passed out from shock if I didn’t have more to say. “No. I don’t want to press charges.”
“Cal,” Momma said, barely holding in her emotions, but I lifted my hand to stop her.
Too little, too late to care now.
“Really, I don’t. I just want her to leave me alone.”
“She needs to pay for what she did to you.”
“Maybe. But assuredly, she needs help. She needs therapy. Someone to listen and help her figure out the root of the issue.” I sighed and actually hated the fleeting thought running through my mind. If Sasha had had sessions with the girls’ counselor, maybe she’d have figured some shit out, maybe not lashed out instead of facing whatever made her so mean.
My time with Trent hadn’t seemed useful. During those hours, I might not’ve opened up to him, but I opened up to myself. Everyone needed a chance to find out how to better themselves.
“We’ll figure this out together,” Daddy said as Momma nodded beside him. “And I owe you an apology, son, a big one.” He swallowed hard as moisture flooded his eyes. “You’re right about all of it. I haven’t been listening. I won’t make that mistake again. I’m sorry, Cal. I’m sorry my life has made a mess of yours.”
I sniffed and lifted my chin. As much as the boy in me wanted to believe him, wanted to give in, rush into his arms, to forgive and forget, the man I’d become wouldn’t let me. This last year had taught me some hard-won life lessons.
“Actions will always speak louder than words,” I said calmly.
Daddy swallowed. “I deserve your skepticism.”
“Then do something about it. Cara needs her parents. Both of them. Me? Maybe one day, but for now …” I shook my head. Too late? Never say never, but they’d have to prove their words and could start by treating Cara better.
Daddy and Momma spoke with each other after that, casting glances my way as if to include me, but I was done talking. They discussed particulars about school and my safety, thenthrew out ideas of how to hold each other accountable, for being more active in mine and Cara’s lives, and for just being present, making the time for family.
It all sounded a little too good to be true. After the year we’d been through, who could blame me for being doubtful? I wasn’t about to toss the hope completely, though. Call me an idiot or a dreamer, but I’d cling to it, probably never let go. But when Daddy said once more how sorry he was, I said nothing. I didn’t forgive because I wasn’t forgetting. I’d meant every word I’d said tonight.
Momma left shortly after midnight, and then I trudged to my bedroom. As much as I wanted to fall into bed and not move until I had to piss or something, I took a long shower, letting the heat ease my muscles so the last of the tension found its way down the drain. I needed a fresh start, to be clean inside and out, to walk back into my room and get in bed with nothing dragging me down as it had for so long.
