On the Fence

“Well, we still have time before school starts. Maybe he can take us out on the boat next week.”

“It’ll have to be before the big end-of-the-summer party.” Braden squeezed my knee, sending a zap of electricity through my body, and then moved his hand back to his own lap. I must’ve gasped at the feeling, because he looked at me with a furrowed brow.

It’s nothing, Braden, just every time you touch me, my body reacts, that’s all. I stood. “Good to see everyone, but I’m going to take a nap now.” And get away from Braden.

Braden grabbed my arm and pulled me back down next to him. “No. We haven’t seen you in a week. You have to stay down here.”

“I’m tired.”

“Go to sleep then.”

“I was trying to.”

“No. Right here.”

“Yeah,” Gage piped in. “Don’t leave us.”

“Oh my gosh, you guys turned into babies when I left. Fine. I’ll stay.”

Braden reached behind him and retrieved one of the throw pillows. I positioned it on the arm of the couch and lay down. In the past, I would’ve thrown my legs over his, but I couldn’t. It seemed so obvious now. He’d know if I did that.

He, obviously not worried about appearances, dragged my legs onto his lap. “See, nice and comfortable.”

I hoped he couldn’t feel the change in my breathing in response to his action. I wasn’t sure I could sleep at all now.

Chapter 32

Rain beat against the windows and the wind howled. I knew it was a dream, I knew exactly what dream it was, and yet I couldn’t wake up. My mind was paralyzed as it waited for the final element to come into play—my mom. Only this time, she didn’t show up in my room like she always did. Instead, I was transported into her car. In the backseat as it careened along the road, seeming to blow back and forth with the wind.

Outside was only blackness. I couldn’t see the scenery, only red rain pounding the windows. I didn’t want to be in the car. For the first time, I noticed my mom’s face was streaked with tears. She was crying. Sobbing.

I couldn’t feel the car tumbling, but I saw the world spin—my mom’s arms fly in the air, glass fan out in a pattern around us, its sharp edges sparkling—and then everything was still. The rain was gone, the glass was gone, and all I could see in between the front seats was my mom’s pale arm, limp and red with blood. I screamed.

My eyes popped open to silence, my jaws clamped together. It took me three counts to remember where I was. Braden still sat there, trapped by my legs. But everyone else was gone. Laughter came from the kitchen and I realized Gage and Amber were in there. I took several deep breaths to try to even out my breathing.

It wasn’t until Braden squeezed my hand that I became aware he was holding it. I quickly let go and sat back, wiping the sweat from my face.

“Talk to me,” Braden said. “Were you having a nightmare?”

“Yes.”

“About your mom?”

“Yes.” I hugged my knees to my chest and stared at the space on the cushion between us. “There’s not much to talk about. It was just a dream.” And I was sure that my mom was crying in it this time because of how much I had cried today. Dreams were weird like that.

He took several deep breaths. “When you were ten, you opened your window, popped out the screen, and climbed onto your roof. Do you remember that?”

I thought back, wondering why he was bringing this up. “Yes.”

“Were you scared at all, Charlie? Because I remember when we all discovered you after hours of searching the neighborhood, you were just sitting there, acting like it was nothing big.”

“I don’t remember feeling much of anything. Maybe I was a little scared.”

“Do you remember why you climbed out there?”

“No. Why, do you know?”

“Yes.”

I finally met his eyes and the look of pity there sent a jolt of fear through me. “Why? Why are you looking at me like that? Why are you telling me this?”

He grabbed my hand and held it tight in his. This made me more afraid. “Do you remember your dad and your brothers wanted to have a talk with you? About your mom?”

“My mom?” I thought back, trying to piece together the fragments of my ten-year-old memory. I remembered running up the stairs to get to my room. I remembered climbing out my window and onto the roof. I didn’t remember why, though. My head pounded as I pushed my thoughts. My dad had sat me on the couch and started talking about my mom. I do remember my head got fuzzy and my ears felt like they were filled with cotton. I had needed air. That was why I had climbed out my window. “What was he trying to tell me?”

Braden’s voice became soft, his thumb making circles on the back of my hand. “Your dad wanted to tell you what really happened to your mom that night.”

“When she got in a car accident?”

He looked at me hard. “You really don’t remember what he said? If you don’t, Charlie, it’s not my place to say. I just thought you remembered and you needed someone to talk to about it. I thought that’s why you’ve been having the nightmares.”

A gray-haired man with glasses flashed in my mind. I was sitting in a chair with my feet dangling off. I must’ve been young. He had me draw pictures. I drew rain and glass. Red rain. I squeezed my eyes shut. The image of a pale, lifeless hand filled the blackness. “Tell me.”

“Shh. It’s okay.” He pulled me against his chest, and that’s when I felt the moisture on my cheeks. I wiped it away quickly, embarrassed by its presence.

“You’re so strong, Charlie. You’ll remember. I’ll be here when you do.”

Part of me wanted to beg him to tell me. The other part, the part that was still embarrassed by the tears in my eyes, wanted to shut it out and never think of it again. Wanted to get in a car and speed away from my past. His heart beat against my cheek in a steady rhythm. Every beat drew me closer to him. Soon his hand started making lazy circles on my back. This was the definition of torture, I was sure of it—loving someone who only wanted to be your friend.

“I want to know,” I finally said. I felt like I could handle anything with him there.

“Then you need to talk to your dad.”

“He’s working a late shift. I won’t see him until after I work tomorrow. Can’t you tell me?”

“I can’t. It’s not my place.”