winced when he cleaned the various abrasions with the stinging pads. He put dressings over the places that were bleeding more freely. He frowned looking at the lump on her head. He prodded around it with gentle fingers.
“You really should have that looked at,” he said. “Are you sure you don’t want an ambulance?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ve had plenty of bumps before.”
He cleaned it carefully, trying not to hurt her.
“I’ve picked you up before,” he commented.
Justine nodded.
“Yeah. Officer Joe, right?”
“That’s right. I don’t remember your name, though.”
“Justine.”
“So what are you doing skating over here if you know it’s off limits and that you’re going to get picked up, Justine? Isn’t that sort of stupid?”
Justine grinned.
“Not when I get to see you,” she teased. She liked Officer Joe.
He smiled and shook his head. Justine held still while he gently applied a bandage to her head.
“Seriously. What’s going on? You don’t generally look like this after a skate. Extreme skating with no one around to help you if something happens? What’s up?”
Justine stared off into the gathering darkness.
“Just upset, I guess. I was … being sort of stupid.”
Officer Joe nodded his agreement.
“How am I supposed to keep you kids safe? You want to end up like that boy last year? You want to kill yourself?”
She couldn’t have been more stunned if he’d tazed her. Justine stared at Officer Joe with her mouth open, unable to find the words to respond.
“What?” he questioned, misinterpreting her look. “You know the boy I’m talking about. Used to skate around here. Killed doing stupid stunts-“
“Christian,” Justine croaked, attempting to stop his flow of words. “Christian was my best friend.”
He stopped and gazed at her, re-evaluating.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “I remember you guys hung out together.” He was silent for a few minutes, pretending to examine her wounds. Pushing her hair back from her face to look at her. “Don’t do it. Please. Do you know what it’s like for an officer, cleaning up after an accident like that? Or cutting down a kid who’s hung himself? Or telling some poor mother that her daughter’s overdosed and won’t be coming home again? Get counseling. Get prescribed an antidepressant. Don’t kill yourself. Please.”
Justine didn’t answer at first, letting his plea hang in the air between them. She touched his hand, still on her hair.
“I’m not going to kill myself,” she said finally. “I admit I was being stupid, and I wanted to get hurt. And to get attention. But I don’t want to die.”
“There’s help. There’s lots of resources out there. People that can help you feel better.” He took her hand, and held it between his two big, warm, strong hands. “Trust me,” he said earnestly, “lots of people want to help.”
“He was my only friend,” Justine said, a hot lump in her throat. She was not going to cry again. She had no more tears left to shed. “He’s the only person I ever loved.”
“Get help. See someone. There’s no shame in getting counseling. They can help you get through this. Find ways to feel better and move on. Make new friends.”
Justine sighed, shrugging.
“I’ve already got a therapist,” she said. “I’ve been seeing him for years. It doesn’t help.”
“Have you talked to him about this?” Officer Joe questioned shrewdly, meeting her eyes.
Justine dropped her gaze back down to the ground.
“Well, no,” she admitted. “No one knows.”
“It doesn’t work if you don’t tell him what’s wrong.”
“Yeah, okay,” Justine said, her face flushing warm again. “I’ll tell him.”
“Okay,” he nodded. For a few minutes, neither of them said anything. “So how else can I help you?”
Justine shifted, bending her knees and elbows tentatively. They were starting to stiffen up in the cold night air.
“You wanna give me a ride?” she
“You really should have that looked at,” he said. “Are you sure you don’t want an ambulance?”
“No, it’s fine. I’ve had plenty of bumps before.”
He cleaned it carefully, trying not to hurt her.
“I’ve picked you up before,” he commented.
Justine nodded.
“Yeah. Officer Joe, right?”
“That’s right. I don’t remember your name, though.”
“Justine.”
“So what are you doing skating over here if you know it’s off limits and that you’re going to get picked up, Justine? Isn’t that sort of stupid?”
Justine grinned.
“Not when I get to see you,” she teased. She liked Officer Joe.
He smiled and shook his head. Justine held still while he gently applied a bandage to her head.
“Seriously. What’s going on? You don’t generally look like this after a skate. Extreme skating with no one around to help you if something happens? What’s up?”
Justine stared off into the gathering darkness.
“Just upset, I guess. I was … being sort of stupid.”
Officer Joe nodded his agreement.
“How am I supposed to keep you kids safe? You want to end up like that boy last year? You want to kill yourself?”
She couldn’t have been more stunned if he’d tazed her. Justine stared at Officer Joe with her mouth open, unable to find the words to respond.
“What?” he questioned, misinterpreting her look. “You know the boy I’m talking about. Used to skate around here. Killed doing stupid stunts-“
“Christian,” Justine croaked, attempting to stop his flow of words. “Christian was my best friend.”
He stopped and gazed at her, re-evaluating.
“Yeah,” he agreed, “I remember you guys hung out together.” He was silent for a few minutes, pretending to examine her wounds. Pushing her hair back from her face to look at her. “Don’t do it. Please. Do you know what it’s like for an officer, cleaning up after an accident like that? Or cutting down a kid who’s hung himself? Or telling some poor mother that her daughter’s overdosed and won’t be coming home again? Get counseling. Get prescribed an antidepressant. Don’t kill yourself. Please.”
Justine didn’t answer at first, letting his plea hang in the air between them. She touched his hand, still on her hair.
“I’m not going to kill myself,” she said finally. “I admit I was being stupid, and I wanted to get hurt. And to get attention. But I don’t want to die.”
“There’s help. There’s lots of resources out there. People that can help you feel better.” He took her hand, and held it between his two big, warm, strong hands. “Trust me,” he said earnestly, “lots of people want to help.”
“He was my only friend,” Justine said, a hot lump in her throat. She was not going to cry again. She had no more tears left to shed. “He’s the only person I ever loved.”
“Get help. See someone. There’s no shame in getting counseling. They can help you get through this. Find ways to feel better and move on. Make new friends.”
Justine sighed, shrugging.
“I’ve already got a therapist,” she said. “I’ve been seeing him for years. It doesn’t help.”
“Have you talked to him about this?” Officer Joe questioned shrewdly, meeting her eyes.
Justine dropped her gaze back down to the ground.
“Well, no,” she admitted. “No one knows.”
“It doesn’t work if you don’t tell him what’s wrong.”
“Yeah, okay,” Justine said, her face flushing warm again. “I’ll tell him.”
“Okay,” he nodded. For a few minutes, neither of them said anything. “So how else can I help you?”
Justine shifted, bending her knees and elbows tentatively. They were starting to stiffen up in the cold night air.
“You wanna give me a ride?” she
Similar Books
