Page 13 of Falling Too Late

“You’re bleeding.” I pointed to her knee. She finally looked away from the parking lot and at her knee. Then it was like she remembered she’d fallen, and she looked at her bloodied hands too. I could see the black specks of gravel in her hands. I could already hear the lecture my mom would be giving me right now if she saw me out here with no shoes in the dead of winter. She wasn’t even wearing a coat. I looked her over some more. Something was wrong.

When she still didn’t say anything, I picked my book up off the ground, looking it over to make sure I hadn’t damaged it. It was from the library, and I didn’t want to lose my library card because I messed up a book.

“Wren.” I tucked the book in my inside jacket pocket. “Come on, get on my back, and I will take you into my apartment.”

“Alex. . . I. . .”

“Come on, let me get you inside before they come back.”

At that, her head whipped back to where they’d driven off. I sat on the edge of the slide, bending forward so she could get on.

“I can walk.”

“Just get on. My mom would have both our asses if she found out you were out here with no shoes.”I wasn’t going to let her walk through the snow and ice.

“I’m not your mom’s problem.” This was the most she had said.

“My mom mothers everyone. Just hurry up.” It took her a minute. She placed one hand on my shoulder gently, a few times, like it was going to bite her, before she wrapped her legs aroundmy waist, her arms around my neck. I lifted her with ease; she didn’t feel like she weighed anything. Once we got up the stairs, she wiggled until I put her down. We got to my door, and I unlocked it and looked over my shoulder. She was staring at my neighbor's door, and a slight tremor started in her body.

“You live next door?”

She nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” I looked up at her, confused, while she was still standing by the front door.??

“The yelling and screaming from my mom.” I wanted to ask her more, but before I could, her stomach spoke for her: a loud gurgling noise that shattered through the night and seemed to echo on and on. Something in me softened, my concern moving from her mom and the boyfriend to her hunger. After my dad had died, Ma and I went hungry a lot.

Her, more so than me.??

“Uhm, are you hungry?” I asked, softening my tone. Wren looked rough, her posture like the stray cat that lived somewhere around here. Like she would hiss and growl while she ate the food you gave her. Something was wrong, something was different with her, but I didn’t know what.

“No,” she immediately answered, defensive.Her voice was rough.

I couldn’t help but laugh, but it died off when I wondered if maybe her mom didn’t have food at home. It was a normal thing around these parts, choosing between food or keeping the lights on.

“Your stomach says otherwise.” I watched her and sighed. “Come on, my mom left some food in the oven. I haven’t eaten yet either.” I was already in the kitchen, putting on a mitt for the oven. I pulled the meatloaf and mashed potatoes out of the oven, dividing up the food onto plates.I placed the food on the kitchen table before walking back and grabbing two cups, filling each with tap water. She stood by the door still, staring at it. I could see the blood soaking through her sweats, and sheheld her palms out gingerly, blood and gravel still on the surface.

“Here.” I set a cup down for her and one for me. “Come back to the bathroom; let's clean your hands up.” She didn’t immediately follow me, but I headed back to the bathroom and started the warm water, just like Ma did for me whenever I cut up my hands as a kid. I found a washcloth and wet it. When she still didn’t show up, I headed out into the hall. She was still standing at the entrance, just looking into the apartment. “Do you. . .want to come in here by yourself?”

She brought her thumb up to her mouth and started chewing on her nail.??

Confused, I set out the washcloth, alcohol swabs, and Band-Aids on the counter.

“I left everything out on the counter in the bathroom.” I walked out and headed to the kitchen. When I passed her, I couldn’t help but notice the way she flinched, turning so her back wasn’t to me.??

I sat at the counter and waited for her to come back. It took a while, but eventually she did.??

“Uhm,” she started, holding her hands out to me, “I keep messing it up.” I looked into her hand at the big Band-Aid that had folded in on itself, sticky touching sticky.

“Oh, here.” I turned in my seat and reached to help her. Again, she flinched. I paused, looking up at her. Her eyes were squeezed shut and she pulled back like I had just hit her.

Slowly, she opened one eye and stared at me. She took a deep breath.

I smiled at her. “Okay. I’m going to reach toward you and fix your Band-Aid. Is that okay?”

Wren stared at me for a minute. Eyes guarded, before she finally nodded slightly.?

“Okay.” Slowly, I reached for her hands, looking up at her face to gauge her reaction as I did. I could see the way she leaned back, away, but not far back enough to take her hand out of my reach.Carefully, I pinched the Band-Aid in both hands and pulled the sticky sides apart before gently laying it back across her palm.

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