Page 40 of Only Everything
“It's a big deal to me. You're crying. What they said hurt you. That cop that left, that was James?”
“Yeah.”
“What did he say?”
“Nothing. I want to leave.”
“What about the gossip? Do I at least get to know that?”
“It was nothing. The truth. They were just… talking about how bruised up and quiet I was.” I led Reid back towards his truck. “I want to leave.”
“You're too upset to drive right now.” He letout a deep breath. “Let's go grab dinner. I'll bring you back to get your car before we head home. I feel like a chicken basket and ice cream. Do you remember how we used to eat that every Friday night after the football games?” Reid smiled, stepping in. “Win or lose, it was me and you. We were always going there on Friday nights. You'd let me vent or talk shit about the plays, and we’d eat. Those were good times.”
I softened through the memories, nodding.
“We practically lived there in the summers too. You were always mowing yards to make sure you could take me to get ice cream. It didn't hurt that it was right across the main road from our house.”
“What do you say? Chicken strips and chocolate dipped cones?”
A smile came. “…I’d like that.”
He winked at me, leading me around the truck to open my door. I buckled up as he headed around and got in. Flashes of our past came, easing the anger and sadness I felt inside. The more I thought about me and Reid during our youth, the happier I got. But with the good came the bad, and I couldn’t ignore that.
For the first year, everything had been perfect. No touching. No acts like in my earliest days. It wasn't until I was fifteen that my father started drinking and came back for me. It was a nightmare when he forced me down to the basement again. The secret had always been down those stairs, even in my youth. And I knew his intentions when he opened that door and grabbed my arm. And I fought. I tried to run.
Run… yes…
The smell of smoke perfumed the truck, but I could still smell the alcohol as the memory took over. I had just gotten home from school. Becky and Reid weren't home yet. My dad was waiting. Pacing.Angry.But not. He was impatient, and it showed as he’d flung open the basement door and met my eyes.“No.”But before I could turn to run, he was already surging in my direction, dragging me to the one place I’d spent the majority of my life trying to escape.
That lasted for months before Reid found me in the shed. And that was because I started not coming home from school. The more I rebelled, the more my father came for me. Except with age and time, he started pushing the bounds on what he wanted.On what he’d want me to do.No amount of fighting would stop him. He’d just hit me more. He'd nearly break my bones.
Sirens.
The blur of red passed from a firetruck, and the loud honking ripped me right from that back room in our basement. With the recognition the smoke was more profound. My eyes darted over, and I quickly pointed, cutting off whatever Reid was saying.
“It looks like something's on fire over there. That's by where we used to live.”
“You don’t say. Looks like if we hurry, we’ll get a front seat to the show.”
Reid pulled onto the main road, driving, block after block. The closer we got to the restaurant and our old house, the more my mouth gaped.
“I think…Reid, I think?—”
My neck craned as I tried to see around the car thatwas in front of us. With the way the firetruck blocked most of my view, I couldn't tell whether it was our old house or the one next to it.
“Is that?” Fire billowed up, pouring black smoke as the edge of the old blue house I’d grown up in came into view. Nausea pushed against my throat, but something else entirely took over. Relief? Joy? Elation? “It’s…our old house. It’sburning.”
“It sure is.”
My head spun to Reid. “Do you think anyone was inside? What if they’re hurt?”
He didn't seem worried as he moved into the turning lane to bypass the jammed traffic, going past two businesses before pulling into the parking lot of the restaurant.
“I talked to the neighbor when I first got into town. It's a younger married couple that live there. They don't have any kids, and they're probably both at work. I doubt anybody was inside.”
“Oh.”
I couldn't say more. I was too entranced by the orange and red colors eating the walls of my childhood hell. I barely even noticed when Reid parked or when he grabbed my hand.
