Page 78 of Race to Me

Me: ‘What’s wrong?’

Foster: ‘Nothing, I just thought you were having a girls’ night.’

Me: ‘You can trust me.’

Foster: ‘Yeah, baby. I know I can trust you ...’

Brett breaks the silence in the room. “I’m just wondering why he thought I would hit you.” He’s staring at his hands, and I set my phone aside.

I’m going to talk to them. I am. But I just wanted a normal moment before it’s out there forever. “Brett—”

“What’s been going on with you lately?” he cuts me off, nervously drumming his thumb along his knee cap.

I bite my lip and open my mouth to say something, but I need to do this action three times before the words drip from my lips. “There are things you don’t know.” I whisper, and they both lean in to hear me better.

“Whatever it is, we’re here for you.” Brett provides a comforting hand on my shoulder, and Kate follows.

“Seriously, Sky. You know you can come to us,” she assures me.

And I can. I always knew I could, but I didn’t want to be a burden. But now I’m free, and I can share the weight of my crushing world between them.

“I’ll start,” Brett says, running a hand through his bleach blond hair. “Why are you letting him keep you from us?”

“He’s not keeping me from you.” I reply uneasily.

“Then what is?” he asks, pausing the cheesy horror flick.

“Me,” I breathe. “I didn’t want to tell anyone the truth. I didn’t want either of you to feel guilty.” A single tear trickles down my face. The two of them move from their backs resting on the headboard to being at the bottom, sitting crossed legged and facing me.

“What truth?” he pleads with me for answers that I don’t know how to say. I’ve kept them hidden for so long, buried underneath long sleeve shirts and concealer.

“My dad ...” It’s now or never. “He hurt me.”

“Skyler,” Kate whispers as she places her hand on my leg. Brett follows suit with his hand on my other leg. And there they are. Grounding me from falling.“Are you injured?” she asks.

“Healing,” I reply with a nervous smile.

Brett pinches the bridge of his nose. “So, that’s why Foster hit me. He thought it was me when it was your dad.” He snarls at my father’s name, the muscles in his jawline tightening.

“Yeah,”

“Has this been a new thing?” His words are hesitant, as if he’s scared to know the answer.

I shake my head. “Years,” I reply, hearing an audible gasp escape from their lips simultaneously. It’s the only thing you can hear in this quiet room. “I’ve been suffering for a long time.”

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Kate demands, her voice cracking from obvious heartbreak. For me.

I was trying to protect you.“It’s hard to explain. I would try to rationalize it.” I look to the ceiling to try and stop the flow of tears. I’m so fucking sick of crying over my parents.

“Does this have anything to do with quitting cheer?” Brett asks.

I nod, and the tears flow freely. They sweep down my cheeks and onto both of my friends when they lean forward to wrap me in their arms. The emotional release of having them know is freeing and exhilarating and heartbreaking all at the same time. They don’t let me go until my tears are gone.

Brett whispers into my hair, “Don’t shut me out again, no matter what it is. I’m here.”

Kate brushes the palm of her hand along my hair, adding, “Ditto.”

He hands me a tissue. “I’m sorry I didn’t know.”

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