CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO

Anticipating an avalanche of questions, Kaitlyn didn’t ride the bus to school on Tuesday morning. After Aunt Zoë dropped her off, she went straight to Mr. Brady’s secretary and signed up for his first open slot. Eleven o’clock.

Strangely enough, it was as if no one seemed to have heard about what happened to her on Sunday. Or if they had heard, they were shy about approaching her. No one paid her any unusual attention as she walked toward the lockers. Maybe a few extra looks.

Aishia dashed up to her by their lockers. “Did you see Mr. Brady yet?”

“Not yet. Eleven o’clock.”

Aishia hugged her then pushed away, cleared her throat, and spoke in a whisper. “You’ll never guess who’s coming this way.”

“Who?”

Kaitlyn turned and stared. Conrad Greer was walking hesitantly in her direction. She looked away, then looked back. When he got a couple of steps away, he stopped and did something with his lips that resembled a wobbly smile. She met his eyes, noticing that he didn’t smell like a gym sock today.

“Got to get going,” said Aishia. “See you later.” She scurried away.

“Hi,” Conrad said.

“Hi.”

“Listen, that was pretty strange the other day,” he said. “You know—what happened with everything.” His cheeks were turning pink.

“Yeah,” she said. “It was. So, how are you feeling?”

“I’m okay. Pretty good.” He touched the back of his head. “I’m getting the stitches out in two days. They itch.” He turned so she could see the back of his head. An area on his scalp the size of a lemon had been shaved to the skin, which was white. A row of black stitches ran diagonally across the open area like a set of railroad tracks.

The thought occurred to her that someday she might sew up a cut like that. “Looks better than it did,” she said. “It really bled a lot.”

“I don’t remember much about it. But what I wanted to say was, like, this whole thing wasn’t your fault. What I was saying was dumb. I’m sorry about that.”

“Okay,” she said. “But it takes two to tango.”

“What?” His blush deepened.

“Never mind.”

“So, I’m working on some things inside myself,” he said. He looked so awkward she almost smiled.

“That sounds good,” she said.

“Sweet,” he said. “Well, hey, listen, take care.” He turned to go but glanced back again. “By the way, do you like to be called Kaitlyn or Kate?”

“Kaitlyn.”

“Okay, cool. Kaitlyn. See you around.”

At eleven o’clock she went to Mr. Brady’s office.

“Kaitlyn Andersen,” he said, rising. “A sight for sore eyes. I wasn’t sure we’d see you back this week.”

“I wasn’t either,” she said.

“Sit down, please. If a tenth of what I read is true, you went through a lot. Are you doing all right?”

“I’m okay.”

“A little okay or a lot okay?”

“In between.” She looked down and wondered if this was such a good idea. But it was too late. “Aunt Zoë made me an appointment to see a counselor, but I’m not sure I really need it.”

“I think it can’t hurt, right?” he said. “Listen, we’re really going to miss you. Are things going okay in Dayton with your stepmom?”

“That’s what I wanted to talk about.”

“Okay. I’m all ears.”

“I don’t want to go back there.” She cleared her throat. “No, what I really mean is that I’m not going to go back. Period. She hasn’t changed. I can’t handle it anymore.” She described the call with Stella the previous day, the boyfriend coming back, the trip to Reno Beach, Stella not being there on Saturday. “I know what’ll happen if I go back there. I’m going to be angry and sad and frustrated. I’ll want to hurt her and I’ll want to hurt myself for being so stupid to ever care about . . . her. Or about anything.”

He’d been listening intently. Nodding, he said, “Have you talked to your uncle about this?”

“Not yet. He’s under a lot of stress. But he’s been . . . I don’t know exactly why, but he’s been friendlier to me. I almost think he likes me.”

“Why would he not like you?”

“Zoë thinks he’s still mourning for Aunt Zellie. But I don’t know why that should make him hate me.”

“Well, sometimes grief can mess people up. I wondered about that. But this is good, Kaitlyn, this decision. You’re thinking for yourself.”

“Mr. Brady, I know that my stepmother is going to explode when she finds out. I’m not sure what to do.” She hesitated. “Do I need a lawyer?”

“Yes. You will. But this isn’t the first time I’ve helped someone in this situation. I know an attorney who works with Child Protective Services. She’d help you and your uncle file a petition with a judge showing why it would be in your best interest to stay here. I would be more than happy to testify in favor of that.”

“How long does it take?”

“Probably just a few weeks.”

“Would I have to go back with Stella in the meantime?”

“The lawyer can file for an emergency order of protective custody so you could stay here.”

“That would be amazing. But I need to talk to Uncle Jack.”

“Yes. As soon as possible.”

“He won’t have to pay for me,” she said. “I’ll get a job and give him room and board. And I’ll babysit Julia for free.”

Brady smiled. “Well, I’m sure you’ll work it out. But please tell Dr. Forester that I’m one hundred percent on board and will help however I can. I’ll reach out to the attorney now.”

“Mr. Brady, thank you.”

“No, thank you, Kaitlyn,” he said, extending his hand. “You’ve made my day.”