Old Wounds (4 page)

Finally, ever so slightly, the edges of his mouth curled up. “So talk.”

“Somewhere else.”

When he sighed and stood up, his friends snickered and made a few crude comments. “Shut up,” he said and smacked the back of one of his friend’s head as he moved past.

He guided me out of the library and didn’t stop walking until we were outside, with small pellets of rain dripping into my hair. “So?” he said, his long legs stopping as he allowed me to catch up to him.

“So I heard that you might know where I can get some ganja.”

Jason’s face was calm. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Shaking my head, I clicked my tongue at him. “Yes, you do.”

“Tom Young’s your dad and you’re asking me on your first day of school if I can get you some pot?” I nodded. “You’re insane. He goes around to third-grade classes and tells kids the horrors of drugs. Well, mainly the horrors of meth, but still.”

“Sometimes, but not right now. What does it matter who my father is?”

“How stupid do you think I am?”

I rolled my eyes, leaning back against the moist bricks of the school. “Well, you don’t look stupid, but since I don’t know you, I have no real way of knowing.”

“You do know me.” I quirked my brow. “I know you. You’re Sophie Young, Tom Young’s daughter who used to come up every summer. We ran around in the forests together. You used to shove me off of rocks.” Again I intentionally formed a confused expression. “Jesus, you can’t remember our dads dragging us all over the damn state while they hiked? Well, back when my dad could still go outside,” he finished in a mumble.

A few vague memories came back to me. I looked up at Jason’s face. There was a boy I remembered shoving into the mud every once in a while, and then crying when he pulled my hair. “Smile.” I could tell by his expression he thought this was dumb, but he plastered a smile on his face. “Yeah, now I remember you.”

He folded his arms over his massive chest and cocked his head. “You stopped visiting.” As his eyes wandered over my body, his smile shifted into something meant to be seductive. “You got all grown up, didn’t you?”

He was not subtle. “So can I get some weed or not?”

“How do I know that you haven’t turned into a narc? Your dad’s tight with the sheriff, you know.”

“Did I tell him about the time you stole his beer when we were twelve?”

He appraised me again and seemed to come to the conclusion that I wasn’t a narc. “So, about that pot…”

Jason grabbed my hand and pulled me away from the bricks, and away from the school. I wasn’t really afraid, even though it seemed like a natural response would have been fear, especially since he was so much bigger than I was. We stopped just inside the woods that surrounded the park by the school.

“I don’t have any for you to buy here. One more ‘infraction’ and I’ll be expelled, and your dad will stop pulling strings for me.” He dug into his pocket, pulling out a hard pack of Camel Lights. Flipping open the box top, he plucked out a perfectly-rolled joint. “But we can get high before going back into hell.” He nodded toward the school.

“Thank God!” I exclaimed, finding a relatively dry fallen tree to sit down on. “I haven’t had any since leaving Tampa.” He lit it and took his time taking several long pulls; some to get it going, and others to take into his lungs. Finally, he passed it to me and I felt almost giddy at the feel of it between my fingers as I took a big hit.

“So after school,” he said during his long exhale, “you can come back to my house and I’ll get you some of your own.”

“Thanks.” We passed the joint back and forth a few times, and I started feeling fucking great. I ran my hands through my hair and let my eyes slip closed.

“So, you already with Anderson or what?”

I nearly choked. “What? No. He’s just…a puppy.” Jason’s smile widened and I could tell he was pretty fried too.

“Well, then,” he said, leaning toward me. I felt a little confused, but did nothing to stop what I knew was coming. “Let me stake my claim.” Before I could even process his possessive words, he’d crushed his mouth against mine. It was a great kiss. Then he pulled away and said, “Bet you haven’t had any of that since Tampa either.”

I smiled, letting a chuckle bubble out of me. Feeling warm and relaxed, I sized Jason up. He was tall and muscular. I should’ve at least been a little afraid of him, like I was when I saw Big Dalton, but something about having known him when we were kids made him seem safe. I licked my lips, tasting the remains of Jason and marijuana. Then I stood up and pushed him until he was sitting where I had been and quickly moved to straddle him.

I
hadn’t
had any of that since Tampa. Taking the smoldering, almost-too-small roach out of his hands, I gave it one last puff before flicking it behind him, listening as it sizzled in the damp foliage. Jason’s hands moved immediately to my ass, cupping it, his fingers digging in. I kissed him again, my hands moving to tangle wildly in his hair. Damn, I could get laid before Horticulture. I wondered if little Miss Megan could say that.

He pulled back, still rubbing my ass. “No panties on the first day of school? Jesus, Sophie, you’ve really turned into a naughty girl, haven’t you?”

“You have no idea.”

A wicked smile played on his face, but Jason carefully stood me up, letting his hands linger on my hips a moment before brushing one of them in between my legs. “As much as I’d love to explore how much you’ve grown up, I can’t be late to class. Jerry would have a fit if I got expelled.” I assumed Jerry was his father.

I backed up and grabbed my bag, watching as he rose to his full height. Dude must have been at least six-foot-six. “How is your dad?” I asked, trying to remember my manners, but not really giving a shit. I could barely remember the guy anyway.

“Needy as ever,” was his reply as he led me out of the woods. “You know he has OCD, right?”

No, I didn’t know that and I wasn’t sure how to respond, so I stayed silent. When we reached the edge of the campus, he turned to me. “So, after school, meet me out front.” Guess I’d scored on my top two priorities.

I nodded in agreement before moving down the path that I thought would take me to the greenhouse. The bell rang just as I entered. Lazily, I walked over to the teacher, holding out my class slip. Chris Anderson was glaring at me. I gave him a little smirk and then shrugged my shoulders before the teacher introduced himself as Mr. Reese and pointed to my seat.

It was then I realized that my table partner was none other than the skilled hands- talented mouth, Rusty Dalton. He looked way too nervous as I approached and was breathing hard, like he’d just been having some rough sex. His eyes flicked toward me for just a moment before moving to the front of the class and then out the window. Okay, so the dude was strange. I supposed if he didn’t try grabbing my shit during class, I could deal with strange Rusty Dalton.

“Hey,” I said, giving him a tentative smile. I didn’t want him to think I was a prick like Anderson and was somehow still pissed at him for running into me. He looked sick as he glanced up and merely gave me a little nod in greeting. “I’m Sophie,” I continued quietly as Mr. Reese began talking, bringing the class to order. Rusty Dalton gave me a small half-smile before moving his eyes to the front of the room. I guessed that it was all I was going to get. It was customary to give your name in return when someone introduced themselves to you, but whatever; I already knew it anyway.

I pretty much zoned out until Mr. Reese called on Rusty Dalton. When he hesitated before answering, I tried to remember the question so I could whisper the answer to him. That was a nice thing to do, right? But suddenly he took a very deep breath, his hands clenching together on the desk before his head rose just slightly. “A-A-A-Act-t-tinomycccccetes,” he finally said and blew out a breath of relief as Mr. Reese indicated that he was correct.

Chris Anderson turned around and narrowed his eyes at my table partner. “V-v-very g-g-good, D-D-Dalton,” he said and broke out in quiet laughter.

Rusty Dalton sighed and lowered his head, looking at his clenched hands. So, what? He had a stutter, which made sense now after hearing Chris and Megan’s comments. Jesus, high school sucked.

I narrowed my eyes at Chris and when he turned to me, I said, “Don’t be a dick.” He glared at me, but thankfully turned back around.

The rest of class was boring. When the bell rang, Rusty Dalton packed up his books and left without saying a word. P.E. went by without incident, except for when I “accidently” slammed my elbow into Chris Anderson’s head when we were playing basketball. He was a dick, and while I never really had violent tendencies before, I wanted him to hurt for being an asshole. I wasn’t really clumsy, but it never ceased to amaze me how much the other gender would let me get away with. All I had to do was give him big doe-eyes and bat my eyelashes and he was over his momentary anger and sending me puppy eyes back.

Just as promised, Jason was waiting for me out front and gave me a ride to his house in his old beat-up Cavalier. His house felt familiar, but I didn’t get much of a chance to remark on that since Jason took me directly into his room where he proceeded to show me his extensive collection of buds and paraphernalia. Before I could get him to reveal his pricing, he swept me into his arms and proceeded to resume where we’d left off this afternoon.

Mere moments was all it took for me to be spread out on his rickety old desktop, my shirt pulled up, bra cups down, pants hanging off of one leg, my head thumping against the wall. Jason was really good. It seemed such a waste for one teenage boy to be so
good
at this, especially in Damascus, Maryland, where it wouldn’t be appreciated.

He looked so cool too. Most boys had some kind of epileptic fit, but not Jason. There were a few grunts and “oh, yeahs” thrown in for good measure, but he maintained his cool even through his orgasm. His eyes were on me the entire time, even as he withdrew and peeled off the condom, tossing it into the trashcan.

As I tugged my shirt back down and watched him pull up his pants, zipping them, but leaving the top button unbuttoned, I felt the need to let him know the deal. “Just FYI, Jason, don’t go all romantic on me or any shit like that, okay?”

A smile played on his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m not the girlfriend type, so don’t think that what we just did means anything more than what it was.”

He looked unimpressed.

“What?”

“In case no one told you, Sophie Young,” he began in a light voice “I’m not the boyfriend type, so we should get along just fine.” Then he sat back down on the edge of his bed as I pulled up my pants, shoving my feet back into my shoes. “So about this weed you want…”

Jason had cut me a fantastic deal on the quarter I took home, basically just charging me for an eighth. It wasn’t ditch weed either. Little to no shake in that bag. He loaned me a bowl, but it would rarely get used, and gave me a dugout and a one-hitter too. Before dropping me off at home, he took me to the store so I’d actually have food to cook for dinner, and he offered to pick me up for school the next day. I happily accepted, after reiterating that despite the great orgasms we’d given each other, we were not romantically involved. He agreed, saying his life was complicated enough without a girlfriend hanging on him.

After dinner, and a nice soothing walk with the one-hitter, I barricaded myself in my room and waited for the morning to come when I had to go to another, boring day at Damascus High.

I woke up with the worst headache I’d had in a while, which wasn’t helped by David’s voice booming in the hallway, loud enough to cause the window panes to rattle. He was yelling at Jane to get out of the bathroom while pounding on the door with what sounded like his fist. I would never understand why he didn’t just make the short trip to use the bathroom downstairs.

“And don’t think I can’t tell that you’re listening, Elliott. Get your ass up. We’ve got less than an hour before first period and I’m not going to be late because of you again.”

I swore he was like the glue that held everything together around here. To the outsider at school, he probably looked like the one sane guy in the house of the loonies, but Jane and I knew different. Even our adopted father Stephen knew.

David’s coping mechanism was being perfect at everything. He got straight A’s in every subject, on every paper, and on every test and quiz, and was Captain of every major sport at Damascus High. He was going out with Rebecca, the best-looking girl at school, and managed to be Vice-President of the student government. He’d probably be asked to be valedictorian when he graduated too. Everyone loved him, which was exactly what he was going for.

Jane was a bit different. She wasn’t really popular like David. She was friends with Rebecca, but wasn’t a cheerleader like she was and most of those girls thought she was weird. Jane molded herself to be as likable as possible, to as many people as possible, so she made a lot of “friends.”

But Jane had a harder time with keeping up the prefect façade than David. She had “dissociative episodes”. At least, that’s what Stephen and Robin called them. Robin was a licensed therapist as well as being Becca’s mother, and a friend of Stephen’s. Basically, the episodes were just periods of time Jane “zoned out.” Unfortunately, even with medication, they still occurred.

As far I as I knew, there wasn’t a definitive trigger for Jane’s “episodes” and no real way to stop them. She would never tell me what went through her mind during that time, but I didn’t blame her for keeping it to herself. If it was something bad and the adults found out, she could go back to the institution and I knew how much she hated that place.

“Elliott, I’m serious! Tick tock, I’m a clock and that means get your ass out here!”

I sighed, knowing that if I didn’t move, David would attempt to open the door. That would
not
help my headache, so I swung my feet over the side of the bed, rubbed my hands down my face, pulled a shirt over my head, and stood up. Then I opened the door as I scratched my neck and cocked an eyebrow. “Don’t give me that look, Elliott.”

I shook my head. “I h-h-have a heada-a-ache.”

“Suck it up, dude. Take a hot shower. That’ll help.” He turned back to the closed bathroom door and started banging on it again. “That is, if we can get Jane out.”

“I’ll g-go d-d-downstairs,” I mumbled, pulling my door closed. I always closed my door. My room was the only place that was mine, only mine, and no one else was allowed in unless I was dying. Stephen promised me that.

The shower, toast, and coffee ended up relieving some of my headache, but the two Tylenol helped even more. As usual, David was behind the wheel of his old International Harvester Scout while Jane sat in the passenger seat, complaining that we never took her car. I sat quietly in the back as usual. There wasn’t much I ever really needed to say.

Stephen would have bought David any new car he’d wanted, but David insisted on this old 4x4. He found it on an online auction site and went all the way to western Ohio to rescue it from some old man’s barn. Although he was nearly always occupied with school or Rebecca, David spends every spare moment and dollar working on it. He liked to stay busy.

“Jane, next year you and Elliott can fight it out over which car you drive to school, but until I graduate,
I’m
driving. Dad said so.” David always called Stephen “Dad.” He’d only been adopted two years before the two of us, but he always seemed much closer to Stephen than Jane or me. “And do you know
why
he said so?”

“Shut up, David,” Jane whined. I was sure she didn’t want to hear it again.

“Because you’ve already gotten two tickets and backed into that car and you’ve only had your license for a year!” Jane could never produce an excuse for her lead foot, but it had been one of her episodes that made her zone out and back into that car. To be honest, Stephen would probably want me to drive us to school next year anyway.

“Oh! The new girl starts today,” she reminded us.

I groaned and immediately wished I hadn’t.

“Dude, don’t start. You already had the conversation with Robin and Dad.”

It took place the night before.

“It will be good for you, Elliott,” Robin said, smiling her shrink smile at me. “At some point you’re going to need to build relationships with people who aren’t in your family circle.”

I shook my head, my eyes darting to Stephen for help. He knew what I was and wasn’t capable of, and he would defend me against this highly ridiculous course of action.

“She’s right, Elliott,” was his soft reply, and my face fell.

“From what I’ve heard, Sophie Young has had some similar experiences to yours. You could help her. She could help you.”

“You want to get better, don’t you?”

I hated when Robin did that; when she indicated that she thought I was not right to begin with. “B-b-but I’ll have to t-t-talk to h-her and wh-wh-what if I…”

“You won’t get any better at communicating if you don’t try, Elliott. I realize that David and Jane have a tendency to enable you by finishing your sentences, but they won’t be around forever, so it’s best for you to begin standing on your own two feet now.”

My jaw tightened as I remembered. I hated her insinuation that I leaned on Jane and David. I never asked them to take up for me or help me in any way. It wasn’t my fault that it was easier for them to finish my sentences than to wait the five minutes it took me to get out a five-word question.

But now I would have to be “paired up” with the Young girl and I had no choice. Of course, neither did she. I didn’t even know if she’d been informed yet of the arrangement. As far as “similar experiences,” I didn’t know why that would be important in the least. If it was true, then she wouldn’t want to talk about it either.

The Scout stopped and I realized that we were already in the school parking lot, next to Rebecca. David and Jane opened their doors, but before getting out, David turned around and looked straight into my eyes, like he did every morning before school.

“Don’t take crap today, Elliott. If Anderson says anything to you, pop him in the mouth. Dad won’t be mad. He knows that little prick deserves it.”

David very rarely said anything bad about anyone, but he really disliked Chris Anderson, even though they were both on all of the sports teams together. Every day, David would tell me to stand up to Anderson, to hit him or something, but the thought of actually getting into a fight terrified me more than Chris’s verbal abuse. I wasn’t necessarily afraid of him because honestly, I could probably take him if my thick mind didn’t paralyze me first. All I could do was nod. I knew David didn’t want me to “take crap,” as he so eloquently put it, but we both knew that today would be no different than any other day.

As I exited the Scout, Jane moved quickly to join her boyfriend Trent who was practically jogging to meet up with her, as Rebecca made her way to David. Both Trent and Rebecca said good morning to me, and I nodded my good morning to them as well.

I didn’t know Trent that well, but Jane loved him, so I accepted him. We never spoke much and although he constantly got in trouble for fighting, he was always nice to me.

I walked behind them, not really wanting to be a part of the conversation.

As usual, I went straight to my locker after splitting off from the others. Most of my days repeated in the same fashion, not much deviating from the day before. But today wasn’t like that. Usually I could avoid the attention of Anderson by walking far enough away that he didn’t notice me, but today he was walking with Connor Hamill and the new girl. Of course, I didn’t even realize she was there until I ran right into her. My head was down as usual, and for whatever reason I failed to see their feet as they came toward me.

I ended up knocking into her, sending paper flying and her bag to the ground. Hamill didn’t seem to pay me any attention. He was typically decent like that, but Anderson had a field day with it. He never missed an opportunity to make me feel like dirt, especially when there was someone else around he could impress by putting me down. Today it just happened to be Sophie Young.

She was beautiful. I couldn’t help but stare a little. Her light eyes were incredible juxtaposed with her dark hair. I’d never seen anything like it.

She appeared to accept my simple apology for running into her and didn’t seem to appreciate Anderson’s attempts at pointing out my stuttering issue. When David came around the corner, she instantly backed away from Anderson. I didn’t know if it was to indicate that she wasn’t “with” him or because she was frightened of David, who could look intimidating. Usually he was friendly and everyone liked him, but he had expressions in his arsenal that could make people nervous. He was big, and just imagining the raw force he could use to hit something was scary. Still, I hoped Sophie backed away because she didn’t want to be associated with a moron like Chris, and not because of David’s intensity.

Even before the confrontation was over, she grabbed her things and walked off. I was thankful because nothing was more embarrassing than having your big brother force someone to apologize to you, except your big brother force someone to apologize to you in front of the pretty new girl.

I wished, as always, that David would see that no matter how much he thought he was helping me, he really wasn’t. He couldn’t be with me all of the time. If I was just allowed to ignore Anderson, he would have at least gotten bored with it all by now and found a new person to humiliate. But since David kept sticking up for me and forcing Anderson to apologize, I was sure he thought I sat around and cried about it.

All morning, my mind wandered to Sophie Young. Now that I had seen her, Stephen and Robin’s little plan seemed to be even less plausible than before. How in the world would I, stupid and stuttering Elliott Dalton, be able to communicate and have actual conversations with
her
? It seemed impossible. Even if I didn’t usually stutter, I doubted that I’d be able to get through a conversation with someone so pretty without stammering.

That wasn’t even mentioning my social anxiety disorder. Robin thought the medications were effective, and maybe they were, but they didn’t do enough. The only difference between now and before I started taking those pills, was that I no longer had violent breakdowns before, and during school. Those had been fun. The only thing that used to calm me down was Jane’s voice.

We’d been adopted at the same time and for whatever reason, she was the only one who’d ever been able to talk sense into me when my mind closed down. She was an angel like that.

Now I would be forced to not only associate with Sophie Young, but talk to her too. I tried to calm myself down from the rising panic I felt by reminding myself that I had until tomorrow to figure out how to talk to Sophie Young.

I watched her during study hall. She’d been sitting by herself, but then Anderson’s group joined her and she hadn’t looked pleased. When she looked over at our table I looked away, and then suddenly she was up and crossing the library, looking more confident than I would have ever felt in a new school.