I opened the paper and saw Mrs. Cho’s number. And Shelly’s beneath it.
Shelly hurried to add, “My number’s only so you can call me if the lawyers try to get out of the rest. I don’t think they will, but they are lawyers, so... Oh, and I just called Mrs. Cho and she’s on her way over, so you won’t have to be alone or go back to your mom’s right away unless you want to. She’s really excited to see you again.”
The words and numbers started to blur the longer I looked at them.
“So, um, yeah. I guess that’s it. I don’t entirely know if that bag is going to fit through the door, but thank God the elevator is fixed, right?” She tried to laugh, but it was forced.
Still staring at the paper, I sensed Shelly moving, groaning as she picked up her heavy bag and shuffled toward the door with it. I heard the hinge squeak as she opened the door, and the sound of fabric scratching as she forced the bag into the hall.
“I hope good things for you, Jolene. Better things than you can possibly imagine.”
And then, softly, the door closed behind her.
* * *
I caught her as the elevator doors were opening. She turned, and I saw that the tears streaming down her face matched my own.
“I was supposed to get to hate you forever.”
One side of her mouth lifted. “You still can.”
I shook my head. And I hugged her.
FIFTEENTH WEEKEND
April 9–11
ADAM
I was heading down the hall toward Jolene’s apartment with dragging feet when my phone buzzed.
Jolene:
Hey.
Adam:
Hi. I’m knocking at your door.
Jolene:
Good luck with that.
Adam:
Are you gonna let me in? I need to talk to you about something.
Jolene:
I’m not there.
Adam:
Where are you?
Jolene:
Behind you.
I turned, and saw her coming up the stairs, her hair half pulled back and half loose. I moved quicker than she did and we met in the middle of the hall. I knew I held her too tight, but she didn’t complain.
“It’s okay,” she said after I released her from a hug. “I already heard your dad is moving home.”
I expected my gut to bungee more than it did, probably because I’d expected the news to hurt her as much as it had both hurt and thrilled me. My dad moving home was great, but losing my weekends with Jolene... But she didn’t look devastated.
“I would have called you but—”
“You only just got your phone back.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s awesome, Adam.” She hugged me again, and it felt like there wasn’t a single part of her that didn’t mean it. “I’m happy for you.”
“Really?” I said. “Because I’m happy for my family, but I hate that this...is ending.”
She looked away, then grimaced when she noticed that we were standing in front of Guy’s apartment. She moved us until we were in front of mine.
I couldn’t help it. I glanced back at Guy’s door. I knew he was gone, but still. “Did you tell your parents?”
“Everybody knows and everyone is blaming everyone else.” Jolene tugged the sleeve of my shirt so that I’d follow her down to sit on the ground.
“That can’t have been a fun conversation.”
Jolene shrugged. “I wouldn’t know. I let the lawyers do the honors with my parents.” She sighed before speaking again. “I, um, ended up reporting him to the police. Shelly was with me when a couple officers interviewed me, and she...wasn’t horrible about it.” She hunched her shoulders ever so slightly. “The officers talked to me again after interviewing Guy, and he denied everything. He said he barely knew me and that after I tried to come on to him he kept his distance so as not to encourage me.”
“That son of a—” I wasn’t aware that I’d started to push to my feet until Jolene stopped me with a hand on my forearm.
“Adam.” She said my name softly and it helped to slow the rage-induced adrenaline coursing through my body. “He’s gone, remember?”
“He belongs in a cell,” I gritted out, lowering back to the ground.
“Yeah, well, he has a squeaky-clean record, and there’s no proof—”
“There’s you!” I said, feeling my face burn for very different reasons than it usually did around her.
Jolene’s face went hard. “Honestly, I’m just glad he’s gone. Actually, no. I’m glad he’s gone and I’m glad that his record won’t be so squeaky-clean if anyone else ever reports him.” She slid her hand off her lap to brush against mine. “According to Shelly, his face was bruised enough that maybe no one will ever have to.”
I looked down, watching her fingers reach for mine, and forced mine to unclench. My knuckles had been bruised for a few days after hitting Guy, but the skin was fine now. “I didn’t hit him hard enough.”
She laced her fingers through mine and I could feel her gaze on me. Then she leaned forward and pressed her lips to my cheek. The soft, sweet touch dimmed the fury still shouting at me to find Guy and make him hurt. Her fingers were so small compared to mine, she was so small and he’d—shame, slick and heavy, kept my head from lifting to see hers.
“I’m sorry that I wasn’t there, that I didn’t understand when you brought us to his apartment. I would never have left you.”
“I know,” she said, laying her head on my shoulder. “And it’s not your fault.”
“It’s not yours,” I said, jerking up to find her face, the need to make sure she knew that superseding everything else.
Her nod was stiff and she didn’t say the words, but I had to hope that someday soon she’d be able to. Slowly, a smile lifted her mouth.
“Does it make me a bad person that I’m glad you hit him?”
“No, and I did more than hit him. I kicked him in the nuts so hard he nearly puked.”
Jolene’s smile stretched wider. “Did you really?”
“Yeah. Jeremy hit him, too.”
“Jeremy was with you? He hates me.”
“He doesn’t hate you. In fact, he wanted me to give you this.” I shifted so I could reach into my back pocket and hand a ticket to her. “It’s for the play. Opening night is next week.”