Page 14 of Falling Too Late

I pulled my hands back. “There.”?

Once she was situated, she took a seat across from me, not hesitating to pick up her fork and start eating.

“Why were you reading outside? It’s cold. Were you reading outside ’cause of the noise?” She fired off the questions in a whisper.

“Yeah.”

I hadn’t eaten much of my food. I had a bad feeling that something had happened to her, but I didn’t know how to ask. I wished my mom didn’t work the night shift. I wished she would be coming home any minute now to deal with whatever this was. This girl needed help.

“When is your birthday?” I asked, just trying to find something to talk about.

“I’ll be seventeen in April,” she answered. Slowly, she started to relax at the table. I watched her set the fork down. She had inhaled the entire plate of food.

“Wren?”

“What?”??

“What happened?”

She brought that thumb up to her mouth and started chewing on her nail again. She looked at me then, her green eyes shining with what I think were tears. “This is really embarrassing, and you can tell me no.” She fidgeted some more before she finally spoke, “I know we just met a few months ago, and this is asking a lot, coming from a stranger. My mom. . .won’t let me take a shower. She gets mad at me and does this sometimes. Do you think. . .do you think I could take a quick shower? I promise I won’t be too long. Just five minutes. I promise I’ll be quick.”

“Take as long as you need.” The words were out of me without a second thought, my mind whirling with what kind of parent kept their kid from showering.

“Really?” Her green eyes shone up at me.??

“Yeah, here, the shower is back here.” Numbly, I took her. “Use whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was quiet, small. It sounded like she was going to cry.?

“Yeah. I’ll get you a towel.” I closed the door behind me and immediately heard the shower turn on. I went to my room and grabbed a clean towel that I hadn’t folded or put away yet. Without thinking, I just opened the door.?

Wren’s back was to me, her hair pulled over her shoulder, her shirt already off. I could see her spine, all ridged and defined. Her shoulders were knobby, small. She looked sick. And then I saw it, a large yellow and greenish bruise that traveled over her ribs and around, almost reaching her spine.

She froze, her shirt clutched to her chest.??

“What happened to you?” I was reaching out, but she flinched away. I dropped my hand.

Things started to make sense now, but I didn’t want to assume. I didn’t want to say it out loud. The yelling, the crying. When things sounded like they were rearranging themselves.?

She was hesitating again, and it was like I knew what was about to come next.??

“Don’t lie to me.” I sounded different, mad, even to my own ears.I didn’t know what she’d been going through, but whatever it was, wasn’t good. It wasn’t right.

“I. . . My mom. . . ” I saw her eyes moving back and forth, like she was looking for the answer somewhere on the peeling painted walls. Looking for a lie to tell. An excuse.

Standing in the small bathroom, I could smell her now, but I didn’t react, I didn’t make a face. “Wren, let me help you.” I went back to my room and found a T-shirt and a pair of sweats. “Here.” I handed them to her. “You can change into these. Use whatever you need.”

“Thank you.” Her voice was small.??

While she showered, I cleaned up my room. It wasn’t dirty by any means, Ma wouldn't have that, but I picked up anything thatwas out of place. My mind reeled with the thoughts of what her mom had been doing to her. What that man had been doing to her.?

When she was done showering, I showed her my room. She wouldn’t look me in the eyes. She looked even smaller in my shirt and sweatpants. She smelled like my bodywash. “Do you want to stay here?” I couldn’t imagine sending her back to them. The look the woman had had in her eyes. . . Wren wasn’t safe with them.

Her eyes widened. “You would let me stay here? What about your mom?”

I moved away from her and sat at my desk chair, turning it to face her.?“I don’t know what’s going on, but I hear your mom yell a lot. And I think I hear your dad too.”?The word just slipped out without even thinking.

“He’s not my dad!” The anger in her voice startled me, and I couldn’t mask the look on my face. “My dad would never do what Kevin does. . .” She started shaking, her hands gripped into fists.

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