Old Wounds (13 page)

Read Old Wounds Online

Authors: N.K. Smith

BOOK: Old Wounds
10.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“Do you know any other Elliott’s?”

“It’s going to take the entire trip for him to even say good morning.”

I sighed. “I don’t like it when you’re a prick, Jace. Stop it. We can do something on Sunday, okay?”

He held up his hands. “Oh no, I’m not down for Elliott’s sloppy seconds.” I punched him in the shoulder and finally his smile was back. “Ouch, jackass, it was just a joke. I’ve got a book by the Dalai Lama that might help you with your violent tendencies.”

“Shut the hell up, dick. Do you want to do something on Sunday or not?”

“What will you tell your dad? He won’t want you going out with me.”

“It’s not going to be a date. I’ll just tell him that I’m going out to explore the great town of Damascus. Besides, he’ll be at the station all day.”

“There’s this cave near the Monocacy River where I’m just dying to have my way you.”

I turned to him and whispered, “You could always come over tonight and climb the tree to my window. Tell me it wouldn’t be a rush to do me in Tom’s house.”

“Sophie, your dad’s here!” I looked up at Pinny Dalton and smiled before looking back at Jason. I figured I’d be seeing him later tonight. I’d have to remember to leave my window open. Typically, I made sure everything was locked up tight.

Tom was waiting in the driver’s seat. He gave me a tentative smile when I slid in. “How’d it go, kiddo?”

“Like therapy, Tom. You know, you didn’t have to leave the firehouse. There are plenty of people who could’ve given me a ride.”

“Do you think you might be able to call me ‘dad’ again sometime?”

Had I ever called him dad? I kept my eyes forward, refusing to look at him. I didn’t want to see any Daddy puppy eyes. I wasn’t required by any legal agreement to call him dad.

“I’ve seen you for a total of maybe five hundred days in the past fifteen years, Tom.”

“Soph, you know if I could’ve changed things, I would have. If I’d have known what was going on in Tampa…” I turned to glare at him. Obviously he was still working through the conversation he’d had with Dr. Dalton after my physical.

“What? What would you have done, Tom? If you wanted me so bad, you could’ve…you could’ve fucking fought for me.”

“There was no judge in the U.S. that would have given you to me when you were a baby, Sophie. A single father raising a daughter on a fireman’s salary? They would’ve said that my line of work was too dangerous and would have taken me away from you too much and…”

“But you didn’t even try. Did you have any idea what type of person Helen…” I was getting tired and my heart was pounding. It was hot in the car, so I rolled down the window, hoping the air would stop the mental fuzz in my brain. “Shit,” I whispered as I remembered.

“What? Sophie?”

Reaching down, I fumbled with my bag until I found my glucose meter. “Calm down, Tom, I just forgot to check my blood sugar and I didn’t eat dinner.”

“Sophie! It’s nearly nine thirty!” Thomas Young, firefighter and paramedic, was speaking now.

Thank you, Mr. Clock. Even through my haze I rolled my eyes. Quickly, I pricked my finger with the lancet and got a decent-sized drop of blood onto the strip. My head was hurting now and the five seconds it took for the meter to analyze the blood seemed incredibly long.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit. It was fifty. Pretty damn low.

At this point, I realized that Tom had pulled the car over and was speaking to me, but I couldn’t really understand what he was saying.

“Could you get into the front pouch of my bag and get me one of those sugar packets?” They weren’t as convenient as the diabetic glucose tabs, but they were more efficient and tasted better. Plus, Helen never bought the tabs for me. I could steal the sugar packets off of any restaurant table. Tom placed it in my hand and I ripped it open, wasting no time pouring the sugar into my mouth.

He said something again.

“Quiet.” I wasn’t trying to be rude and I knew as a trained paramedic, he probably had something valuable to say, but I just needed him to leave me alone. “One more?”

He handed me another one and I poured it into my mouth, starting to feel just a little better. It was another few minutes before I felt somewhat normal. “We can go home now.”

Tom just sat there, and then pointed out of the window.

Oh.

We were home. Slowly, I opened the door and got out of the car, holding onto my book bag, still a little shaky. Tom rounded the car quickly, grasping my upper arm. Although it was a gentle offer of help, I flinched, yanking my arm away. “I’m fine. I just need dinner.”

He was silent until we got inside and watched as I grabbed food so I could make myself something to eat. “What?”

“What exactly just happened, Sophie?”

“I told you; my blood sugar dropped too low, so I got it back up.”

“I
know
it was too low. You
have
to eat. Do you have any idea what could’ve happened?”

I wanted to tell him to shut up because
of course
I knew what happened and what it could have lead to, but my energy level forced me into silence. My hands still shook a little, but I started giving my regurgitated answers. “My brain would suck up all of my energy and start shutting down some non-essential functions. I know that. I injected too much insulin, that’s all. I keep the sugar packets around because it goes directly into the bloodstream, counteracting the insulin.”

“And what happens when you don’t get sugar?” He sounded so amazingly condescending when I didn’t fully answer his original question of what could’ve happened, like I hadn’t been dealing with this stuff on my own since I was four or five years old.

I sighed and shrugged, trying to spread the mayo on the bread with my shaky hands. I’d been living with this bullshit for years. I already knew this and so did he. I resented having to say it. “I go into shock, and possibly a coma.”

After I ate, I felt a hell of a lot better, but it still took another hour before Tom got off of my ass and went back to work.

I barricaded the door after brushing my teeth and had just gotten into my pajamas, when there was a soft knock on my window. I jumped and my heart rate accelerated. Shit. Breathing deeply, I calmed myself. It was only Jason.

I went to the window and slid it open. “I can’t believe you actually came. Why didn’t you just use the door? He’s not home.”

He hopped from the tree and into my room with ease. “Banging Tom Young’s daughter in his house is too good to pass up. He’s such a hard-ass. This is the shit I’ll remember for the rest of my life; how could I
not
climb up the fucking tree? It wouldn’t be as epic.”

Immediately his hands were on me and I found myself stumbling back until I was pressed against my low dresser. The force of my body pushed it against the wall with a thump.

“Be good, Jason.”

“Be good?” he whispered. “Be good when you’re wearing what I can only describe as the worst pajamas I’ve ever seen in my entire life? Those clothes deserve to be ripped to shreds and you need to be punished for even putting them on. They do nothing to show off your tight, little rockin’ body.”

Perv.

I smirked. I had my reasons for wearing sweat pants and an old shirt. It would hardly be appropriate to wear a thong and half-shirt to bed when I lived alone with my father, would it? I mean, what if I had to get up in the middle of the night to pee? What if I physically bumped into him? A shudder ran through me. “Sorry, Jason,” I said, all sweet and nonchalant, “but I forgot that you were even coming over tonight.”

He actually growled as he went for the stretched collar of my shirt. I grabbed his hands. “Don’t actually rip it. It’s my favorite shirt, asshole.”

Sophie had just left my bedroom and I was left alone to reflect. It was the most talking we’d ever done. Whatever she and Robin discussed in her session this afternoon had left her extremely agitated. I had to shut my eyes when she spoke during group because it was too painful to watch. Most everyone in the room had gone through those emotions at one time or another, and many of them had expressed it in the same way. Still, it was painful. She’d been so angry.

Then she’d grabbed my wrist and yanked me out of the living room. I didn’t know what to do when she stopped at my bedroom; even though it was obvious she wanted to go inside. My heart started racing, and although she’d been in it the week before, I still panicked just a little.

We’d talked about art and music, which were fairly safe topics and ones I enjoyed talking about. When she asked about my parents I couldn’t say anything, so I kept quiet and she quickly changed the subject.

I was thinking about what songs to play for her in the car tomorrow when there was a knock on my door. It had to be Robin, reminding me of my session. I went into the hallway, making sure to close my door behind me.

Once situated in Stephen’s study, Robin gave me her warm smile. “Elliott,” I begrudgingly looked at her, but in reality I was fearful of a repeat of last week, “I want to apologize for what happened last time. I didn’t mean to upset you like that, but walking around with those secrets buried inside does you no good.”

I closed my eyes. “B-b-but y-y-you already kn-kn-know.”

“I’m only aware of what’s in the file, and we both know not everything is in there.”

She sighed and I opened my eyes. “I don’t have to be the one you tell. I’m not oblivious to the fact that you’re not entirely comfortable around me, but you should tell someone. You should let
someone
help you.”

I was about to protest. I wanted to tell her I didn’t need help and these things inside of me were going to stay there until I died. It didn’t matter how many people I told, or how many people wanted to help. Robin continued, “I understand you not wanting to confide in Stephen and David, but you always have Jane.”

“Sh-she’s g-got her own th-things to-to-to deal with.” It was true. Jane had guessed some of it, since she’d been with me when I was fresh out of my father’s house, but she had enough to worry about with her own memories, lost or not.

“Okay.”

I looked back at her in surprise. That was it? She was letting it go? “Stephen tells me you’re going to D.C. tomorrow?”

I nodded, happy with the change of topic.

“Foreign films with Sophie?”

Again, I nodded.

“That should be fun. I take it you’ve hit it off then?”

Shrugging, I answered, “I d-don’t know.” There was something I had to ask her, even though I knew I wouldn’t get an answer. “W-why’s sh-she here?”

“You know I can’t tell you that, but I hope she’ll tell you herself.”

I wanted something more eloquent to say, but the way it came out was, “She’s lllllliiiiike me?”

Robin leaned forward. “I think you two have a lot in common.” She sighed and cocked her head, studying me the way Stephen sometimes did. “D.C. is a bit of a drive. What do you think you two will talk about?”

I shrugged. I actually had no idea, but I wanted to talk to her about something, even if my stuttering would make it painful. “S-sh-she likes aaaart. Sh-she d-doesn’t kn-know Johnny C-Cash.”

She leaned back. “So you’ll share your musical expertise with her?” I shrugged and her smile faded. “Elliott,” she began, her voice oddly careful and even, “as I said, you and Sophie have a lot in common. I don’t know her complete history, but there’s… I want you to be careful. I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be involved with her.”

This woman baffled me. She was the one who paired me with Sophie in the first place. She was the one who said interacting with her would be good for me; now suddenly she was warning me against being involved with her. This made no sense. “W-w-w-what d-d-ddddo you m-m-mean?”

“David and Jane have someone, and it’s perfectly normal for you to want something similar, but your situation is quite different.
You
need to be careful.”

I struggled, trying to figure out what she was talking about. Jane and Trent. David and Rebecca. They were together, as in
together
. Robin was saying that I shouldn’t be…
together
with Sophie?

“I-I-I d-d-don’t un-un-undersssstand.” My frustration was definitely affecting my speech.

Robin was quiet for a moment as she inhaled deeply; probably trying to figure out how best to make an idiot like me understand what she was trying to say. “Your…life experiences are unique to you, Elliott. The others don’t have those same experiences.” I wanted to act like a regular teenager and say “well, duh,” but I held it in. “What’s happened to you can haunt you more than what they have experienced. Sophie’s past can haunt her in ways that the others would have no idea about.” She licked her lips. “I’m just suggesting that if you find yourself…attracted to Sophie, you need to think before you act upon it.”

I shook my head as I let out a frustrated breath. I knew my unique history made me different from the others. I thought that went without saying, but if I was hearing her correctly, Robin was telling me that I shouldn’t have a romantic relationship with Sophie, which was laughable. First, I doubted that Sophie would want to be romantically involved with someone like me. Second, she seemed to be involved with Jason Fox and third, we weren’t even friends, really. At least I didn’t know if we were. Besides, she’d made a point to say it wasn’t a date.

“Th-th-that sssseeeeems unf-f-fair, Robin.”

She folded her hands in her lap and gave me a pointed look. “You remember a few years ago, don’t you, Elliott?” My breathing sped up. “That was with someone who
didn’t
have issues of her own.”

Oh. I wished it hadn’t taken me so long, but now I knew what she was getting at. She wasn’t talking about a
romantic
relationship with Sophie. She was talking about a
sexual
relationship. I hung my head as I ran both hands through my hair. Leave it to Robin to dig up memories I had tried desperately to bury.

I didn’t know how long I’d sat there looking at her feet, but when I looked up, she was simply studying me. Elliott Dalton, Lab Rat. “I h-h-hadn’t p-p-p-p…” the word wouldn’t come out, so I went another way, “…Th-th-that w-w-wasn’t m-my in-in-intention w-w-with, S-S-SSSSophie.”

Now Robin was full of sympathy. It oozed from her; from her motherly voice to her creased brow and downturned mouth. “Elliott, it wasn’t your intention back then either, but it happened. It’s okay that it happened, but I don’t want you to go through that again. There’s so much more you need to deal with before you get involved like that.”

I buried my head in my hands. She was basically telling me that of all the freaks in the world, I was the king. Being the “Freak King” meant I would need years and years of intensive therapy just to form a normal, healthy relationship with someone of the opposite sex without some doctor prescribing a multitude of pills and helping me to “work through my past.”

By the time I looked up, I felt tired and annoyed. “W-w-well, y-y-you d-d-d-don’t nnnnneed t-t-to worry. Sh-she d-d-d-doesn’t liiiiike m-m-me liiiiike th-th-that.”

“Elliott, please don’t be upset.”

“I-I’m t-tired. C-c-can I g-gooo now?”

Since it was Saturday, I was not awakened by David yelling at Jane, but by my alarm clock. I groaned as I looked at the time, wondering for a brief moment why I was getting up so early. Then I remembered. I was going to D.C. with Sophie today.

It wasn’t a date. I knew it wasn’t a date, but I was excited nonetheless. I practically shot out of bed and flew out of my room and into the bathroom. I showered and dressed quickly, happy that I’d picked out my clothes the night before. My iPod had finished syncing, and I hoped Sophie would like the music I’d chosen. It had taken me quite some time to pick out the best songs from my library.

I was nervous and my discussion with Robin last night hadn’t helped. Stephen was downstairs as I went to get some quick food for breakfast. I let him say his piece and remind me that I was to check in every two hours before confirming that I’d told Sophie about my attacks.

I poured two cups of coffee into travel mugs, said goodbye, got into my Jetta, and headed over to Sophie’s house. I made good time and was actually a few minutes early.

As I was climbing up the stairs, Mr. Young stepped out of the house. I forced myself to speak. “H-h-hhhhello, ssssir.”

With narrowed eyes, he looked me up and down. Sophie’s father was tall and muscular; an incredibly intimidating man. “Elliott,” he said, stopping in front of me, “bring her back in one piece and if you put your hands on her in any inappropriate way, I’ll find out. Got it?”

I gulped, surprised by the automatic assumption I’d do anything to hurt his daughter. “Y-y-y-y-yes, ssssssssir.”

Finally, he smiled. “Have fun and drive safe.”

I stood frozen until he was in his SUV, pulling slowly out of the driveway. Before I could make it the rest of the way up, Sophie was in front of me, closing and locking the door.

“Hey, Elliott.”

“H-h-hi.”

“Did Tom threaten you with his shotgun?”

I could hear the sarcasm dripping from her voice and I felt myself relax. “H-he m-made sssure I kn-knew to t-t-take care of y-you.”

She shook her head and started off the steps. I followed. “It’s humorous that Tom wants to go all overprotective-Daddy on me now.” She stopped at the car and looked back at me. “Just a few years too late.”

I watched as she got in before I rounded the car and did the same. “I b-b-brought y-you c-c-c-coffee.” I shrugged as she looked at the travel mug. “I-I d-d-didn’t kn-know if you d-dr-drank it or not.”

“Thanks.” She grabbed it and took a sip. “So, are you going to school me or what?”

I glanced at her and she nodded at my iPod. I turned it on, pushing it down into the dock. “I-I-I d-d-didn’t know w-what you l-liiiiked, so I j-just l-l-loaded a b-b-bunch of ssssongs on here.” She looked at me expectantly. “Y-you c-can f-flip th-through it and f-find something you liiiike.”

Sophie smiled at me, but sighed. “The point isn’t for me to find something I like; it’s for you to expose me to new music to see
if
I like it, right?”

Other books

Hamlet's BlackBerry by William Powers
The Gates of Winter by Mark Anthony
Portal-eARC by Eric Flint, Ryk E. Spoor
Blood Wine by John Moss
Meeting Mr. Right by Deb Kastner
Encounters by Felkel, Stewart
His Hometown Cowgirl by Anne Marie Novark