Home > The Boy on the Bridge(56)

The Boy on the Bridge(56)
Author: Sam Mariano

He has the nerve to touch my back as he walks up behind me. “Come back inside. Let me explain.”

“Get your hands off me,” I say, my voice shaky with a potent mix of rage and humiliation.

“I fucked up,” he says lowly. “I made a mistake. I realized it as soon as—”

“Stop. Talking.”

He grabs my wrist, grabs my hip with his other hand and tries to pull me back inside. “Let’s talk about this. I took it too far, I know that—”

“Get your hands off me,” I say more loudly, shoving him.

I can’t breathe properly. My chest is tightening, panic gathering as I struggle.

And then the nightmare gets worse as a new monster comes out of the closet.

At the other end of the hallway, Valerie comes into view. She’s still wearing her red and black cheerleader outfit from the game tonight, her skimpy skirt and long sleeved top. Her blonde hair is pulled up in a high ponytail with a sparkly crimson scrunchie. Her hand is on her slim hip, her blue eyes narrowed with hatred as she looks at me.

“You stupid fucking bitch,” she says, her words increasing in volume as she storms down the hall.

Hunter pushes me out of the way so he can get out of the bedroom. “Valerie—” he begins, a clear warning in his tone, but she doesn’t let him finish.

“And you,” she says, eyes wide as she shoves him in the chest. “Why do you have to be such a fucking asshole?”

I stumble back a step, momentarily distracted by my own horror. I’ve never seen Valerie stand up to Hunter before, let alone in public. I wouldn’t expect her to be happy about Hunter hooking up with me, but I can’t believe she has the audacity to react like…

The truth socks me in the stomach, knocking the wind out of me a moment before it comes out in the open.

“It’s not enough to fucking cheat on me,” she says, shoving him again. “It had to be with her!”

Bile rises in my throat.

I shake my head, denial overpowering me.

No. No, he wouldn’t. He didn’t.

I told him she was the line he couldn’t cross. I told him.

But when he looks at me and I see the remorse, I know.

The onlookers might think he feels bad about getting caught stepping out on Valerie, but I know the truth. I know why he really feels bad.

It’s the most surreal feeling. Fissures crack open as my heart breaks. I feel it happening. I’m helpless to stop the erosion, helpless to stop the tears that gather in my eyes.

I won’t cry in front of them. They don’t deserve that.

Before I break down, I shove past Wally and run down the hall. Tears blur my vision before I get to the door. A couple people who weren’t in the hall look at me like where’s the fire as I rip open the front door and run outside without closing it.

I can’t breathe, but I don’t stop running. I’m alone so I don’t have to worry about people seeing as I struggle noisily to draw breath.

I stop running when I get to the end of the road. I’m out of breath and my chest hurts. It feels like I’m drowning but there’s no water.

The house on the corner has a privacy fence. I back up against it and try to gather my bearings. I can feel dried tears on my face. My stomach roils. Bile tries to come up, but I summon every ounce of willpower I have left and keep it down.

I need to get home.

I try to think how far I’d have to walk, but I don’t have confidence my legs will carry me all the way there. They’ve felt like jelly since I opened that bedroom door. I’m shocked I made it this far. Must have been pure adrenaline.

The adrenaline is running out, though. I really feel like I’m going to be sick.

My fingers tremble as I draw out my cell phone. I have another missed message from Sara wanting to know what’s going on. I read the message, but I don’t answer. I don’t know what to say.

I need a ride home. Sara can’t drive. I can’t ask Anderson anymore. I can’t call my mom. I left my purse in Valerie’s bedroom, so I don’t even have my house key.

My face feels wet and I realize I’m still crying. That’s annoying. I swipe the tear away like it’s the tear that made me angry.

I look down at my phone again.

If anyone else had hurt me, I would call my mom to come get me.

Tonight, I call Ray.

As the phone rings, I hope and pray he’s not with her. I’m not sure if they had plans tonight or not. If he’s with her, I’m fucked. She’ll know something is wrong if I’m calling him. Ray and I are friendly when he comes over, but we don’t chat on the phone. I only have his number in case of emergencies.

This feels enough like an emergency to use it.

His low, rough baritone comes across the other line. “Hello.”

“Hey.” I tuck a chunk of hair behind my ear and look down at the grass. “It’s Riley.”

Since he knows he’s only my emergency contact, his tone is alert. “Hey, Riley. What’s up?”

I swallow. “Are you with my mom?”

“No. Why? Is everything okay?”

My shoulders sag with relief. “Oh, thank God. Are you busy? I need a huge favor if you’re not.”

“What do you need?”

“Will you come pick me up? I’m at a party. Or, I was. I’m kind of… my ride left without me, so I just need someone to take me home.”

He doesn’t hesitate. “Give me the address, I’ll be right there. Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” I assure him. “I just need a ride home. And, Ray… can you please not tell my mom about this?”

At that, he hesitates, but after a couple of seconds, he says, “All right.”

“Thank you.”

He asks a couple more times if I’m all right. I assure him I am.

It feels like a lie, though.

I don’t feel all right.

I feel traumatized.

Maybe it’s a blessing that after a few minutes, I start to feel numb.

I don’t know how long I stand there encased in numbness, but I snap back to reality when Ray’s car pulls up to the curb.

Wordlessly, I open the door and slide in.

Ray just sits there for a moment, looking over at me, maybe waiting for me to speak. When I don’t, he asks, “Are you sure you’re okay?”

I nod my head. “I just want to go home.”

He watches me for a moment longer, then he sighs and starts driving.

We don’t talk the whole way home. He doesn’t have the music playing tonight either, so it’s completely silent. It feels good, though. I’ve been through so much in the last half hour, I’m not sure I can handle much more tonight.

I finally speak when Ray pulls into our driveway. “Thank you.”

He nods his head.

I don’t get out. I just sit there and stare at the house.

“Your mom’s not home,” Ray finally says, figuring that must be why I’m hesitating. “She got called in to work.”

Oh, thank God.

I feel a few ounces lighter, but only until I realize that means I can’t get in the house. “Great.”

“Thought you’d be relieved,” he remarks.

“I left my purse at the party. I don’t have my house key, and we don’t have a spare stashed outside anywhere.”

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