Page 25 of Behind the Bars

I stood still, unable to look away from the flickering light.Please, stop with theflickers.

“Eli,” Jasmine said softly, her voice low and filled with care. “Please.”

Her hand landed on my forearm, and my stare moved from the lights to her fingers. My chest…it tightened even more. My heart…it sped up. Jasmine Greene was touching me, begging me to be her plus-one to a house party I hadn’t been invited to and never would be invited to, and I couldn’t even build up the courage to walk herinside.

“Just five minutes,” I told her with a hitch in my voice. “I just need five minutes before I can walkinside.”

“I’ll wait withyou.”

“No,” I snapped. She frowned, and I felt awful. I just didn’t need her to be there to watch my panic attack take place. I didn’t need to give her any more reasons to feel sorry for me. I was already embarrassed enough. “I mean, I need five minutes to breathe a little. I need a moment by myself.” I added a smile at the end to make her smiletoo.

“Promise you’ll comein?”

“Ipromise.”

She nodded in understanding, even though I was one of the hardest people to ever understand. “Okay. I’ll get us somedrinks.”

“Okay.”

Her hand finally left my forearm and she reached for the door. But before she stepped foot inside, she turned back to me. “Elliott?”

“Yes?”

“I don’t feel sorry for you. Sometimes you look at me like you think I feel sorry for you, and I just want you to know that I don’t. I think you’re great the way youare.”

“I’m a little messed up,” I told her, placing my hands on the back of myneck.

“I know—that’s why I like you.” She smiled. It was the kind of smile that made my armpits sweat. “Because I’m a little messed up,too.”

The second she walked inside, I hurried off the porch. I reached into my pocket and pulled out my iPod. Music always helped me before anything terrifying. Whenever I forgot to breathe, I’d put my earbuds in and lose myself in my favorite sounds: jazzmusic.

DukeEllington.

CharlieParker.

EllaFitzgerald.

So many great legends lived inside of my iPod, so many mind-blowingtalents.

My uncle TJ had taught my sister and me all about the greatest jazz musicians in the world. I was almost certain ‘Miles’ and ‘Davis’ had been my first two words, and they’d be the last two words I’d say on my wayout.

Music was my therapy, and after a few songs, I always felt stronger. It was crazy how jazz fixed the broken pieces of me every time, how the sounds always took me back to a safe place in mysoul.

Life was hard sometimes, but maybe God gave us music as hisapology.

I looked around Todd’s home. He came from money, and the acres and acres of land were signs of his wealth. We obviously lived very different lives. To the left were orchard fields, and to the right, horse stables. Todd often tried to impress the girls at school by telling them about all the horses his family had. The thing Todd did best was show off—he was a professional at doingso.

I walked toward the stables, because animals often brought me more peace of mind than any human ever could. As I opened the stable door, I froze. Todd and three of his idiot friends were sitting there drinking beers with lighters and whips in their hands. They were standing in one of the stalls with a horse, cussing and hitting her with the whips, making her whimper inpain.

“What a dumb bitch,” Ted Jones said, laughing as he flickered the lighter by the horse’s face. “I should set part of her tail on fire,” hemocked.

“Dude, I’ll give you fifty bucks if you do it,” Keaton said, egging himon.

“Shit, I’ll give you fifty, too,” Todd said with alaugh.

As Ted grew closer and closer to the horse’s tail, panic built more and more in my chest. I knew these guys were assholes, but I hadn’t realized just how much until I listened to the horse whimper and cry inpain.

“S-s-s-stop!” I hollered, my voice trembling as I stared wide-eyed at theguys.

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