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James’s face pales a bit as he glances nervously at me.
“Well, son, like I said, that’s a topic we can discuss when you are around eight or nine, okay? Run along and play.” He pats his head, and Noah runs off, completely unaware of what he’s done to affect my emotional state.
James says nothing. He simply shoves his hot dog into his mouth and walks over to the ice chest, rummaging through it.
I close my eyes, forcing the air to move in and out with my diaphragm.
I can survive this. I will survive this. Much worse things have been said to me, much harsher, more hateful things. This is a blip on the radar of the abuse I’ve withstood in my lifetime.
People I don’t know don’t like me. So what?
These aren’t just any judgmental people, passing me by on the street. This is Adam’s family, and they think I’m a whore, trying to drag him down to a pit of sin.
Shakily forcing my legs to support my weight, I stand and start to walk out of the campsite. Nobody says anything. Not a word is spoken to me. I trudge in the direction we came from, mindlessly trekking as far away as I can. I know it’s too far to walk, and once my fingers are functional, I’ll call someone to come get me. The dirt stirs up in the wind around me until I reach the area with grass.
My body jolts as my phone vibrates with a text in my hand. I look down at it.
Kenna: Hey, Riley’s having a party tonight. Do you and Adam want to come?
Kenna’s name on my screen sends a wave of relief through my aching chest, and I hit the Call icon. She picks up right away.
“Hey, I thought you were having dinner with Adam’s family?” she asks, the background noise loud with chatter.
“Can you come pick me up, please? I’m at a campsite outside of town,” I say, my voice hoarse.
I hate asking for favors, but this is an exception.
“Uhh, yes. What’s wrong?” she asks, wariness in her tone.
“Nothing, just—please just come get me. I’ll send you my location,” I say, suddenly feeling the urge to cry as reality sets in. My steps falter.
“Okay, yeah, sure. I’m just finishing up a pedicure with my mom, but I’ll skip the polish. On my way, okay?” she says, her voice softening. It’s her turn to reassure me.
I mumble a thank-you, hanging up. After sending her my location in Maps, I keep walking. My steps are slow. A truck full of high schoolers passes me, and the boys inside yell, asking if I want a ride.
After about ten minutes, I finally see the exit for the campgrounds in the distance. How big is this place?
A familiar blue truck is driving toward me, so I step off the road, praying he doesn’t see me somehow.
Adam slows the old Chevy, his face creased in concern.
“Hey, what’s wrong? Why are you walking?” he says, worry in his voice. He hops out of the vehicle, leaving the door open. He walks up to me, stopping a few paces away.
Why does he have to be so damn good-looking?
“I’m leaving. Kenna’s coming to get me,” I reply, setting my jaw and walking past him.
“Wha—what happened?” he asks, reaching for me. “Why are you leaving?” His amber eyes are boring into mine, clearly distressed.
“It’s not going to work, okay? Let’s just admit, we knew this from the start. I’ve been lying to myself, and so have you. This is just—it’s ridiculous that we even tried. It’s stupid.” My voice cuts off as I jerk my arms out of his grasp, folding them both over my chest.
His hands drop to his sides like he was stung, lips parting. He stares at me for a few seconds before responding. “Why—did something happen? Did someone say something? You knew we had our differences. I did too,” he forces out, his voice higher than usual. “We can make it work, Harley. I wanted to take you out. I have a whole day planned—”
I cut him off, eyes blazing, voice loud, “No! Okay? No! I don’t want your stupid, perfect, nice-boy date. I don’t want your purity, and I don’t want your wholesome life.” I lower my rising voice, feeling surprisingly calm. “I don’t want to live on a farm or even have kids. I don’t need your stupid charity. My life is dirty, and it always has been. Find a nice girl, someone who’s…someone that’s not damaged. Someone you can take home to momma. I’m not that girl.” I shake my head. “I never was.”
My eyes fill with tears, one slipping down my face. The past I can’t control is choking me, but reality is what it is.
He’s devastated, mouth hanging open, eyes squinching together as he stares at me. His chest is rising and falling quickly with his breath.
