Brady, for checking up on me. You get yourself home now so Coralee donât worry about you.â
I tore my gaze off him and hurried up the steps, keeping my head down so I wouldnât have to meet my nonnaâs eyes. She had noticed that look in his eyes too. And she didnât trust me. No one did.
If Brady only knew, he wouldnât have looked at me that way.
âAnytime, Ms. Ames. Yâall have a good night,â he called out. I kept walking to the bedroom that belonged to me.
I didnât want to hear the lecture to stay away from Brady that I knew was coming. When the front door clicked shut, I cringed and grabbed for my bedroom door.
âNot so fast.â Nonnaâs voice stopped me, and I wanted to growl in frustration. I didnât need her to tell me what Ialready knew. âBrady Higgens is a good boy, Willa. Heâs turning into a fine young man. He is quarterback of the football team, and college scouts are already trying to recruit him. Heâll make this town proud. Youâve seen more than that boy has. You know more about the world than he does. He sees that youâve turned into a beautiful young woman. Thatâs all he knows. I donât intend on telling folks what happened with you. Ainât their business. But until . . . until you heal from thisâuntil youâre betterâboys arenât something you need to be spending your time on.â
It was hard to hear. Nonna had taken me in when no one else wanted me, but she didnât trust me or believe me either. That hurt. So much so that my chest ached. All I could do was nod. âYes, maâam,â I replied before hurrying into my bedroom and closing the door to any more hurtful words that she might say. I just needed someone to ask me what had really happened and believe me when I told them.
Just like every night since the accident that changed my life . . . I didnât get much sleep.
â¢Â  â¢Â  â¢
Registering for a new high school your senior year was intimidating. Nonna reassuring the principal and counselor that I would cause no trouble had only added to it. I was required to go to the counselor every Tuesday and Friday during my last-period class to discuss how I was feeling. Iknew I should be thankful that was the only thing I had to do, but I dreaded it all the same.
Nonna had squeezed my arm and looked me firmly in the eyes while she told me to work hard and make her proud. If she only knew that was exactly what I intended to do. Iâd lost too much at this point to lose her, too. I was going to earn her trust. I had to.
The first bell had already rung while I was meeting the counselor and Nonna was explaining my situation. Which meant I was going to have to walk into my first period of the day late. Everyone would stare at me. The teacher would stop talking, and he would also stare at me.
I glanced down at my schedule. Mr. Hawks was my US Government teacher, and Iâd be facing him first. I walked down the empty hallway lined with lockers until I found room 203. I could hear who I assumed was Mr. Hawks talking through the door. Taking a deep breath, I reminded myself that I had faced things far scarier than this. I had lived through six months with girls who deserved to be in a correctional facility. That had been truly terrifying. This was just a classroom of kids who would never understand me. Who didnât matter. All that mattered was that I made the best grades I could and stayed completely out of trouble.
My hand touched the cool metal of the door handle, and I twisted it before I could delay this any longer and enteredthe room. Just as I predicted, every eye swung toward me. I didnât make eye contact though. I kept my gaze on the balding older man in the front of the room with a button-up shirt on that barely covered his belly.
âYou must be Willa Ames,â he said with a smile that didnât meet his eyes.
Michael Boughn Robert Duncan Victor Coleman