before.
“Wake her up!”
“Not until you tell me what the problem is.” Mom sounds calmer now.
I grab a pair of sweatpants, throw them on, and pull off my skirt as I make my way to the hall.
“She posted a video. Your daughter posted a goddamn video, making my little girl look like a whore.”
I look down the stairway as Mom and Mrs. Jamison both look up.
“You!” She points at me. “You get down here right this minute and bring your phone!”
I look at Mom who shrugs. “Sweetheart, did you post—”
“Of course not.” I run into my room and unplug my phone, powering it up as I run down the stairs. “My phone was dead last night, Mom. That’s why I didn’t call for a ride.”
“You walked all that way?” Mom gasps, and I nod. She looks me up and down, her eyes settling on my feet. “Is that blood?”
“Enough! Hand over that phone this instant!” Mrs. Jamison demands.
I start to hand it to her, but Mom stops me.
“You wait just a minute. The way you are speaking to my daughter in my house will not be tolerated.”
“Fine, then I’ll call the police!”
“Well, if that’s what you feel you need to do, then—”
“Be prepared for a battle. No one hurts my child and gets away with it,” Mrs. Jamison sneers, then slams the door behind her after she storms out.
I look down at my phone and hit the Instagram app. I then hit the button on the far right to check my posts. When the video begins, I gasp.
“Oh, Hadley,” Mom says as she looks over my shoulder.
She watches the whole thing as I look at the twenty-four comments and thirty-six likes.
“Mom, I swear to you—”
“Can you remove it?” she asks quickly.
“Yes, yes, I think.” I fumble around, trying to figure it out. “I’ve never posted anything that I needed to delete before. Oh, God, Mom, I—”
“Just delete it, Hadley.” She tries to sound calm, but she is clearly panicking.
“Done!” I say as tears roll down my face. “Deleted.” I start to cry. “What have I done?”
Mom takes my hand and leads me to the couch. “Sit. I need to clean up those feet. I can’t believe you walked all the way home, Hadley. You could have been killed, hit by a car, taken by some—”
“I know, I know. I just didn’t know what to do. Everything got crazy. Everything—” I start to sob.
“Okay, sweetheart, okay.” She hugs me again while I cry. I cry like I have never cried before.
~*~
The cops never come, and Lana has not returned my messages. This morning there is still nothing from her. I am half tempted to message Pax, but I don’t. After all, why would I? I never have before.
I get up, use the bathroom, get dressed for school, and then walk down the stairs.
Both my parents are at the table when I hobble in.
“Morning, Hads,” Dad says to me.
I stop walking and look at him.
It is morning , so why are you up? I want to say.
“Morning,” I reply as I walk to the fridge.
“Your feet okay?” he asks.
“They hurt, but it’ll be fine,” I answer, then look at Mom. “Why aren’t you at work?”
“Just thought I would take you to school today. I want to let the nurse know you probably shouldn’t take gym class.”
“I’m fine, Mom.” I pour a glass of milk and grab a banana.
“I think she’s right, Hads,” Dad interjects.
“Well, regardless, I can handle it.”
“Hads—” he begins.
“I haven’t been Hads in four years, Dad. It’s Hadley and—”
“That’s enough,” Mom scolds me.
“No, I deserve that. It’s been a rough few years, Hads, but I’m workin’ on getting better. And just so you know, you’re always Hads to me. Ain’t gonna change.” He stands up. “Mom or me, which one is taking you to school?”
“Well, let’s see, which one of you hasn’t taken narcotics today and can drive?”
“Hadley, that is enough.”
“She’s got a right, Pammy.” He puts his hand on Mom’s shoulder. “Been two weeks since I’ve taken my pain meds, and I
“Wake her up!”
“Not until you tell me what the problem is.” Mom sounds calmer now.
I grab a pair of sweatpants, throw them on, and pull off my skirt as I make my way to the hall.
“She posted a video. Your daughter posted a goddamn video, making my little girl look like a whore.”
I look down the stairway as Mom and Mrs. Jamison both look up.
“You!” She points at me. “You get down here right this minute and bring your phone!”
I look at Mom who shrugs. “Sweetheart, did you post—”
“Of course not.” I run into my room and unplug my phone, powering it up as I run down the stairs. “My phone was dead last night, Mom. That’s why I didn’t call for a ride.”
“You walked all that way?” Mom gasps, and I nod. She looks me up and down, her eyes settling on my feet. “Is that blood?”
“Enough! Hand over that phone this instant!” Mrs. Jamison demands.
I start to hand it to her, but Mom stops me.
“You wait just a minute. The way you are speaking to my daughter in my house will not be tolerated.”
“Fine, then I’ll call the police!”
“Well, if that’s what you feel you need to do, then—”
“Be prepared for a battle. No one hurts my child and gets away with it,” Mrs. Jamison sneers, then slams the door behind her after she storms out.
I look down at my phone and hit the Instagram app. I then hit the button on the far right to check my posts. When the video begins, I gasp.
“Oh, Hadley,” Mom says as she looks over my shoulder.
She watches the whole thing as I look at the twenty-four comments and thirty-six likes.
“Mom, I swear to you—”
“Can you remove it?” she asks quickly.
“Yes, yes, I think.” I fumble around, trying to figure it out. “I’ve never posted anything that I needed to delete before. Oh, God, Mom, I—”
“Just delete it, Hadley.” She tries to sound calm, but she is clearly panicking.
“Done!” I say as tears roll down my face. “Deleted.” I start to cry. “What have I done?”
Mom takes my hand and leads me to the couch. “Sit. I need to clean up those feet. I can’t believe you walked all the way home, Hadley. You could have been killed, hit by a car, taken by some—”
“I know, I know. I just didn’t know what to do. Everything got crazy. Everything—” I start to sob.
“Okay, sweetheart, okay.” She hugs me again while I cry. I cry like I have never cried before.
~*~
The cops never come, and Lana has not returned my messages. This morning there is still nothing from her. I am half tempted to message Pax, but I don’t. After all, why would I? I never have before.
I get up, use the bathroom, get dressed for school, and then walk down the stairs.
Both my parents are at the table when I hobble in.
“Morning, Hads,” Dad says to me.
I stop walking and look at him.
It is morning , so why are you up? I want to say.
“Morning,” I reply as I walk to the fridge.
“Your feet okay?” he asks.
“They hurt, but it’ll be fine,” I answer, then look at Mom. “Why aren’t you at work?”
“Just thought I would take you to school today. I want to let the nurse know you probably shouldn’t take gym class.”
“I’m fine, Mom.” I pour a glass of milk and grab a banana.
“I think she’s right, Hads,” Dad interjects.
“Well, regardless, I can handle it.”
“Hads—” he begins.
“I haven’t been Hads in four years, Dad. It’s Hadley and—”
“That’s enough,” Mom scolds me.
“No, I deserve that. It’s been a rough few years, Hads, but I’m workin’ on getting better. And just so you know, you’re always Hads to me. Ain’t gonna change.” He stands up. “Mom or me, which one is taking you to school?”
“Well, let’s see, which one of you hasn’t taken narcotics today and can drive?”
“Hadley, that is enough.”
“She’s got a right, Pammy.” He puts his hand on Mom’s shoulder. “Been two weeks since I’ve taken my pain meds, and I
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