She nodded before turning and walking away.
I wanted to go after her. Chase her. Ask her not to turn away from me the way everyone else did. But I had a feeling chasing after her would change her worry to fear real fast, so I trudged off to the hose and had just gotten it turned on when she appeared beside me.
“Can I ask you something?” When I nodded, she said, “When I got out of the car, your dad was holding you down, and your brother was crying.” She took a step closer and looked right into my eyes. “Why?”
And the truth just came out of me. “Because I was hitting him.”
She didn’t move. Not sure the girl even blinked. “But why?”
“Because I was mad.”
“I know.” Another step closer, and I was pretty sure she was trying to get inside my head with the way she was looking at me. Dizzying me up in a different way than my anger did with how she smelled—like sugar with a hint of lemon. “But I’ve never seen anyone mad the way you were mad, Beau Dixon, and I wanna understand it.”
“Why?”
Her mouth lifted in a smile that kinda made her look like her momma. “The way you looked at me. It made me sad.”
“You musta messed up real bad,” Hunter interrupted as he rounded the corner. “Who’re you?”
“Who’re you?” Savannah echoed, lifting her chin.
“I live here,” Hunter answered as he moved closer.
“Her name’s Savannah,” I said before it could continue. “She moved onto the property next to ours.”
Hunter’s mouth formed an O as he hooked a thumb toward our house. “Momma and Dad are telling some lady all about you.”
“Saying you Hulks-out!” Sawyer yelled as he and Emberly came running from the same direction Hunter had come from.
“Yeah,” Hunter added, “and lots of other bad stuff.”
My teeth clenched tight. My jaw hurting real bad as that embarrassment grew and grew until I felt sick with it.
“We got sents outside,” Sawyer said as he smiled at the girl next to me. “You’re real pretty, but I’m marrying my Leightons. Sorry.”
Savannah giggled behind her hand before waving at Emberly. “Are you Leighton?”
“Ew!” Sawyer and Emberly said at the same time before shoving at each other and taking off running toward the barn.
“That’s Emberly,” I said softly, trying to breathe through my embarrassment and the anger that came with it. “She’s basically our sister.”
“Oops,” Savannah whispered.
I finally brought the hose up over my head and started scrubbing at my hair and neck. Trying to drown out Hunter’s voice when he said, “Saw Cays . . . you really got him, Beau. And Momma’s tellin’ that lady about all the things they’ve tried with you. How nothin’ helps or stops you. How you’re gettin’ wor—”
I had him shoved up against the side of the house before he could finish what he was saying. Arms shaking so bad, I was pretty sure I was shaking my brother too.
He didn’t say anything. Just watched me.
He knew . . . he knew when he’d pushed me too far.
Every part of my body felt like I’d been shocked—like lightning had struck me—when Savannah placed her hand on my arm.
“You should let him go,” she said softly, her golden eyes on me.
Just like before, it was gone. Disappearing as fast as it had taken over me.
My arms fell to my sides, and Hunter took off running, but I didn’t look away from the girl next to me. Just tried to figure out who she was and how she could do that.
And then that shame rose again until it was too much.
I’d been angry with myself and whatever was wrong with me. But I’d never been embarrassed until this girl had shown up. And I hated the feeling.
My head shook as I pulled away from her and stormed off until I was hidden under the trees at the back of the house. But not long after I sat against one of them, she sat down next to me.
“I turned off the hose,” she said softly.
“Thanks.”
“You’re still dirty.”
I knew that. I could feel it on my skin. That dirty feeling kinda like when I lost control, except I wasn’t angry. “Yup.”
“My mom told me to stay away from you,” she said like she was telling me a secret as she played with the grass. “You know . . . when she was sending me outside.”
I glanced at her and then quickly looked away when I found her watching me. “Lotta folks tell their kids to stay away from me.”
“That’s sad.”
I shrugged. I hadn’t ever thought so. Not until then. Not until her.
I stared at the tall, swaying grass covering up the part of our land we could see from where we sat for a while before asking, “Can I tell you something?”
Instead of answering, she scooted closer so she was in front of me and looking directly at me.
“I get real angry, and I can’t stop it. I dunno how. And everyone says it isn’t normal.”
I didn’t tell her that my parents had taken me to see people for it. That I’d just stopped going to the last doctor because I was getting worse, not better. Didn’t tell her the words my momma used when she talked about me. I was too embarrassed to.
“Hulk,” she said, her eyes getting big and round. “That’s what your brother said. Like the big, green guy.”
I shook my head, my shoulders jerking up to my ears. “I dunno. I’ve heard her say it, but I dunno what it means.”
“He’s this guy who explodes into a super huge, green guy when he gets mad. He smashes and destroys things, and it’s hard for him to get back to not being so mad.”
Oh.
My stare fell to my lap as my stomach twisted and turned.
That would be why I didn’t know who he was. My parents tried to stop me from seeing anything with violence, worried it would make me worse. One of my doctors had said so.
“Yeah, guess that sounds like me.” I looked at her and nodded off to the side. “You should maybe listen to your momma.”
She didn’t say anything for a real long time, but when she did, she sounded all kinds of crazy. “Are you gonna stay away from me because of my freckles?”
“What? Why in the heck would I stay away from you ’cause you have freckles?”
“I don’t like them,” she said sadly, then touched her face before forcing her hands under her legs. “I don’t think they belong on my face.”
I looked at her tan skin and bright eyes and the dots on her cheeks and nose that were so light, I hadn’t noticed them until then. “Well, I like ’em. And they aren’t gonna make me stay away from you.”
“Then, okay.”
“I don’t think we’re talking ’bout the same kinds of things.”
“Sure we are.” She reached to the side to pick a dandelion and then looked back at me. “There was a boy at my old school, and he was so, so mean. But he liked being mean, you could tell. He laughed at people when he hurt them or made them cry. I don’t think you’re like that at all, Beau Dixon.” She slowly blew the white, puffy seeds off the stem before saying, “You don’t wanna be angry. I think it bothers you—makes you sad.”