June
If I thought walking inside the house on my crutches was hard enough, it was nothing compared to trying it outside. We were located in the middle of a wooded plot of land, and James liked to keep the terrain as natural as possible, except for keeping the grass immediately around the house maintained to a reasonable length. The area was littered with rocks, leaves, and twigs, and my crutches caught on the dips and protrusions from the soil. It was the first time I’d been outside in days, and though I was determined to get to the back of the house, I couldn’t help but stop, just for a minute, to soak in the sunshine that shone through the gaps of the leafy canopy. The weather was cooperating with the season, and normally I’d be ecstatic about it, but I was stuck in my cast for another five weeks, at least, and even then, I might need further surgery. This meant I’d be most likely spending my summer hobbling around, unable to go on walks, swim at the lake, and enjoy the usual activities someone my age would normally be doing.
The boys had left about half an hour ago, feeling like that was enough time to ensure they weren’t going to come back unexpectedly while I was investigating my old secret spot in the back. I didn’t want to chance Shay changing his mind and turning around only to catch me with the note in my hands, so despite the fact that I wanted to soak in as much sunshine as possible, I had to move my ass.
I finally made it to the back of the house and went straight to the boulder beneath my window. Carefully, I lowered myself onto the large stone, getting as comfortable as I could so I could read without having to worry about losing my balance. My fingers tremble slightly as I shift the smaller rocks aside but my eyes widen when I see what is waiting for me. There’s no note. Instead, there’s a clear plastic ziplock bag, and inside is a small, black cell phone. It’s very basic looking; not like a fancy iPhone. In fact, this one actually had a keyboard and a smaller touchscreen at the top. I took it out, turning it over in my hands as I inspected it. I’d never seen a cell phone like this one before.
Curiously, I press the power button and the screen screen comes to life, but all it has on it is an inbox for texting and a call log. There’s one number in the phone, and the name it belongs to makes me smile wide. I tap on the message inbox and see there actually is a message waiting for me. Eagerly, I settle back on the boulder and open it.
Captain Stud Muffin: Hey Mina… I decided to upgrade our means of communication, seeing as you won’t be by the theatre. What do you think of the burner cell? Don’t you worry about the cost, I’ll be covering it for you. Been trying to reach you for days, but your family hasn’t left the house… took a chance Thursday night and left this for you. Are you okay? I heard about what happened… I know about what they did to you and your mother…
I stop reading when he mentions my mum. Closing my eyes, I rest my head on the log wall of the house behind me, and slowly count to ten, concentrating on my breathing. My hands tremble slightly, and I feel my eyes start to sting as I fight back the choking sob that’s working its way up my throat. Mum… poor Mum, what they did to her…
No, Mina! Don’t fucking think of it! Not yet, don’t go there yet! My mind screams at me, commanding that I focus on my breathing, and count again until I feel my control come back to me. When I stop shaking, I continue reading.
I want to see you… but I know that’s probably an impossibility at this point. In the meantime, let’s continue talking this way, yeah? I hated not being able to reach you…
I feel my heart flutter in my chest at those words and I can’t fight the small grin that works its way onto my face. Only this guy can give me butterflies like this. I feel like a stupid, typical schoolgirl, losing my mind over a guy, but I can’t help it.
Text me when you get this, alright? So I know you got it. Just message me our password, and I know it’s you and not some random crackhead who found this phone in your yard and decided to fuck with me. Or worse, your stepbrother…
I shiver at the thought of Shay finding this. I’ll keep the cell on silent and buried beneath my floorboards with the notes. I know I should burn them to hide the evidence of our communication, but my heart won’t let me. A lot of our messages were so heartfelt, so revealing and full of secrets back and forth to each other… I don’t want to lose them. All the times that I felt alone, those times when I felt so controlled, so smothered by Shay and his tantrums, the weight of the responsibility put on my shoulders for dealing with him most times became too much. When that happened, I reached out through my notes to my secret friend, and found solace in the words he wrote back to me. Many times when I’d been suffering for days because of Shay’s random bouts of raging, dangerous hysterics that held me hostage, I’d pour my heart out on paper. His messages in return always made me feel better, whether it was by his sense of humour, charm, or just his responses to my worries.
Shay has never searched my room before, as far as I knew, and seeing as my box hidden beneath the floor of my bed has been undisturbed, I still feel safe using it.
If I hear of any leads from the underground about the attack, I’ll make sure secure channels pass the information on to your stepfather. In the meantime, you let yourself rest and heal. If you get bored, text me. If you need someone to vent to, text me. I don’t give a shit what the reason is… I want to hear from you, got it? Just… don’t ask for my opinion on clothes or shit like that… when girls do that, it fuckin’ stresses me out. I never end up saying the right thing.
I chuckle and roll my eyes. One time, one time I asked him if I should wear a red or blue dress to a school dance last year, and the note I received back just said, “Black”. But I took his less than helpful suggestion to heart, and had gone shopping with my friends, buying a pretty black lace, empire waist party dress to wear. But, of course, the night was cut short when Shay finally snapped, claiming I’d been out long enough, and showed up at my school to take me home. Despite that, I’d had a pretty great time, and was glad I’d gone with the classic little-black-dress, judging from all the looks I received from the boys in my class.
I quickly read the last line in the text.
I’ll talk to you soon. Remember, message our password so I know it’s you and that you’ve got the cell.
Immediately, I type in the password I’d picked out for us years ago, something that we would write to each other once in a while to clarify that we were indeed still messaging with one another and not someone else who was trying to dig for information, or in his case, Shay posing as me to lure him into a trap.
Mina: Bad Crow
I press send and look back in the plastic bag. There’s a charger cord wrapped up, too, so I drop the phone back in the bag and slowly make my way back around to the front of the house. I feel a little regretful when I realize that I will no longer be sneaking around behind the house to search through the rocks for a paper note anymore, but he’s right. The burner cell makes sense. And we can reach each other right away, without worrying about him getting caught lurking on the property. He took a risk every time he came here, but he ensured me he had the security cameras around the place scoped out. I really don’t know how he managed it each time. At least that concern was over. And now that our meetings at the old theatre are no longer a possibility, I feel a sense of relief knowing I have this as a means to connect to him.