Page 72 of Spike

Spike frowned.“This kind of thing happen to you often?”

“I’m not sureoften is the right word.” I shook my head. “It hasn’t happened for a long time.Not since I was thirteen and fainted at Wendy Carmichael’s birthday sleepover.”

“Lemme guess. Acouple of sips of Boones Farm and you were out cold?”

“What’s BoonesFarm?”

“The cheapest wineon the market.”

“Oh, ah, no,worse. Since Wendy was turning thirteen, her mom allowed her to rent her firstPG-13 movie.” I shuddered. “She chose Insidious.”

“The one about thepossessed little boy?”

I shrugged. “Iwouldn’t know. I’d never seen a horror movie before and I was so scared, Ipassed out during the opening credits. Everyone was freaking out, and my dadhad to come pick me up early. I was so mortified. It was the most embarrassingthing ever.”

“Why were youembarrassed? You didn’t do anything to feel ashamed of,” Spike said.

I narrowed my eyesat him. “I’m going to assume you’ve never been a thirteen-year-old girl.”

He smiled gently.“I’ve been many things during my short time on earth, but that’s definitely notone of them.”

“Well, I was, andI’ll tell you something. I’d pit a gang of vicious eighth grade girls againstthe Burning Saints any day. Tween and teen girls pounce on the smell of asingle drop of blood. Show any weakness and you’re dead before you know it. Oreven worse, ostracized by your peers. Banished to the land of the uncool andunpopular.”

Spike chuckled.“Sounds a lot like prison.”

“There were timesduring my teenage years I probably would have traded places with you.”

Spike smiled in away that said I was likely wrong in thinking that, before asking, “Did anyoneever figure out what was causing your fainting spells?”

“My parents tookme to every medical doctor and faith healer they could, until finally resortingto a child psychologist.”

Spike’s facetwisted up in question. “Resorting to? Why the hesitation?”

“My father haslittle love for mental health professionals. He believes, firmly, that mostmatters of the mind should be addressed from a spiritual perspective ratherthan a medical one. He felt my fainting spells were the result of a spiritualattack. Proved all the more to him when I fainted while watching a ‘demonic’movie.”

“What did yourpsychologist say?”

“That there wasnothing wrong with me, and that my passing out was simply due to a lack ofoxygen going to my brain. A natural fear response is freezing up, and when Iwould get scared, I’d be so frozen I’d forget to breathe. So, Dr. Charmain,taught me a series of breathing exercises to practice and employ when feelingscared or anxious.”

Spike grimaced.“Sorry, I didn’t mean to spring the stuff about your dad on you like that.”

“It’s not yourfault.” I squeezed Spike’s hand. “I just can’t believe he’d be mixed up withthe kind of people that could do something like that to him.”

“I think I shouldtalk to him,” he said.

“I’m not surethat’s the best idea.”

“He’s not gonna behonest with you or your mother, but if I can handle this right, I think he’llbe straight with me.” Spike met my eyes. “If he is, I might be able to help him.”

“And if he’s notstraight with you?”

“Then I’m all thehappier that you’re not living here anymore.”

“Why?”

“Because whoeverworked your father over won’t have any problem hurting you or your mother ifyour pops doesn’t make things right with them.”

“I can’t leave mymom here alone if she’s in danger.”

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