Bruce cursed under his breath and his hand fisted. The little boy inside of me quaked. The beast I was now growled at him. We would not be afraid. Not today. Not ever again.
After I grabbed the bag with my slice of pie in it and filled up my glass with milk again, I made tracks to get back to my room. This common space was not inviting anymore.
“I’m working down at the mechanics. They have a program for ex-cons and they’re really thrilled with me. If you want, I can ask them to take you on, too. I mean, we both live here now, so…”
He continued talking, but I totally ignored him after I closed my bedroom door with my foot. I wasn’t going to humor him. I went to my window. It was still loud outside, and the window was still curtained across the way. I stuck my head out. Fat Asshole was there. Or maybe his descendant. I turned one way and the other, looking for neighbors. Hell, just anything when I noticed the string Pixie and I used to pass the coffee can back-and-forth was still attached to the nail by my window. It was pulled tight and I soon saw the reason. The coffee can was still on the end of it, just wrapped around the fire escape. My night had new meaning because I had to get the coffee can. I tried brute strength. Then I tried rigging together some wire hangers, but still no dice. The can was hard to reach, and if I snapped the wire from my end, it was quite possible the coffee can would remain trapped. In the end, it was a combination of tugging and making a hook to grab the string and swinging the can in the reverse around the pipe of the fire escape.
When it swung free, it made a clatter. I winced as the metal scraped along the brick façade. After waiting a beat, I started pulling on the can like it was a fishing pole that I had a bite on.
Slowly, slowly I was able to pull in the rusted can. I was careful to not cut myself as I pulled the blue plastic cover off of it. I was looking for a leftover note from when Pixie and I were kids. Instead, I found a giant pile of carefully folded notes on lined paper or Post-it notes.
I started at the top of the pile, which incidentally, according to the date, was the oldest. She had the date on the outside, very Pixie Rae. I skipped to the last date and flipped it open.
Gaze,
It happened again.
Her handwriting hit me in a certain way. Nostalgia. I was thrilled the papers weren’t soaked. That said a lot for the waterproofness of the coffee can’s plastic lid.
Whatever had happened, that was all she wrote. It was the last note, dated almost eight months ago.
Maybe she was gone. Maybe they had moved. I glanced over at the window again. I had to start from the beginning.
The first one was dated when I was in the hospital:
Gaze,
You have to live. You just have to. I’m having nightmares of your father’s face. The way it was twisted before I climbed on the ramp. God, I just knew it was going down. He’d lost touch. You know when we would see him stumble? And you knew to give him a shoulder to lean on? It was like that but with hate. He was falling into his anger, and there was no way to stop him from where I stood. Every time I close my eyes I see your lips blue and your eyes so wide.
I hope you forgive me for what I had to do. I had to tell. They had to know. Just live, okay? And we can sort it out. Just live. Okay?
Love, PR
I touched the words with my fingertip. It was her. Pixie had attempted to come across the ramp, at the very least. That first night she had regret about telling my secret.
I shuffled through a month and plucked one out.
So a foster home is something I can’t contact. I’ve tried. You being a juvenile allows them to cut you off from me. I asked Officer Sam to find out for me, but he says that I’d asked for too much already. Your father hasn’t made bail, which is good. I’m going to have to testify against him, which has me scared. I hate Bic. Still, in case you were wondering. He’s told me that it’s my fault. That I should have kept my nose in my own business. And I hate him, and I knew it couldn’t be any other way, but maybe I should have lied to the police about what happened? I don’t know. Putting you back in your place—I just felt death coming off of him. Like he would be so mad. Are you so mad? I don’t blame you. But I miss you. I didn’t realize how alone I was until I was so alone again. I want you to come back. But come back safely. And I haven’t figured out how that will work. If I didn’t have stupid Bic in the house, I would be able to move you in with me. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. The only person I want to talk to is you. Talk to me, okay? Make things better for me, like you always did. I’m sorry. Please make him stop. The way he looks at me just gives me the creeps that climb on my skin the second he is in the room with me.
I went to meet with the lawyer today. Mom was there, so at least I had her. I had to tell them what happened. How it happened. How many times it happened. I am so very sorry, Gaze. And now my punishment is no you and it’s killing me. Can missing someone kill you? I think it will.
There was a gap in time, and I double-checked, but there was about a month between letters. And even though I had them all, I still felt my heart pound.
Be here. Please be here.
And another note:
I can’t.
And another:
Gaze,
She’s dead. My mom is dead. Gaze. Please.
I stopped, stone-cold, and snapped my head to Pixie’s window. Her mom died? How? When? Oh my God. Bic. Sweet Jesus.
I panic opened the folded letters, the dates sometimes missing. The contents hit my subconscious.
He took the door off my room, please be here.
Help.
No.
I’m not me anymore.
I hate him.
I hate me.
No one knows but you.
Please.
Stop.
No one knows but you? Oh God. Pixie, no. No.
I was in a flurry of her pain. I was in the center of her past. While I was treated like a cherished family member.
I sat in my room for a long time, processing the two paths we took. Well, I was able to take a path; she was stuck on the sidelines.
The guilt I had was huge. I knew this would happen to her. I knew it. Deep inside, I didn’t trust Bic and I ignored it when I was with the Burathons. I did what made me happy while she was…
I wanted to go back to her apartment, but my shame locked me down. Instead, I watched her window all night, wondering. Was she still there? Was she safe?
I’d approach tomorrow differently. For sure.
Chapter 41
Gaze
I WAS TOLD I would be able to go to the gym today, which was good. My hands itched to touch a basketball. I loved the simplicity of the game. It was the thing that I didn’t have to think about; it just came to me.
When we got to lunchtime, I sat at the table with the girls who helped me to class and the guys from the team. I saw how the cafeteria was divided. They didn’t have an Austin that somehow managed to connect all the groups in one way or another.
I turned to Ashlin who lit up with a smile.“You know Pixie Rae Stone?”
The smile slipped from her face and turned into a surprised frown alarmingly quickly. “Ugh. Why do you care?”
I ignored her and turned to Megan who seemed perplexed. “Pixie Rae? You know her?”
After turning my head to the side to show them my impatience, I answered, “Clearly.”
The guys turned into the conversation. I was betting it was the shift in my tone. Slightly aggressive.