“You okay, sweetheart?”
I turn toward my mother.
“I finally heard from Henley.”
“You did?” She rushes forward, staring at my computer.
Her eyes scan over the screen, swallowing Henley’s words eagerly.
Hand to her chest, she blinks in sadness. “That poor child. What is Jacinta thinking?”
It's a rhetorical question, but I can’t help but answer. “She’s a bitch. Mom, we need to do something.”
“Honey,” she placates, resting her hand on my shoulder. “I wish I could. But all the power resides with Jacinta. Even Derrick’s hands are tied. She’s her mother, and Henley’s a minor.”
I shrug her off in irritation. “That’s bullshit. They’re using her as ammunition against one another. Except the only one who feels the hit is Henley.”
“I know you’re worried,” she implores, “but it will work out. I promise.”
“I hate promises,” I grumble. “They mean shit. You can’t vow that this will work out, so why bother?”
“I’m just trying to remain positive, Brooks.”
“I’d prefer you remain real.”
Despite the somber mood, a knowing grin spreads across her face, a glint of pride in her eye reserved for parents and their children.
“Get her address and we’ll send her a phone today.”
Letting go of a breath I didn’t realize I had been holding, I hug her. “I love you.”
“I know, babyface. I love you, too.”
She leaves me in peace, my fingers wanting to go nuts on the keyboard and send her every thought coursing through my brain.
Squirrel,
I’ve been so fucking worried. Derrick told me Jacinta had taken you, but nothing more. He’s a stubborn asshole.
Henley, I’m so fucking sorry. You told me something bad was going to happen. You fucking told me. We should have run away and started our life of wanderlust now.
Mom is going to send you a phone, so send me the address of where you’re staying. Until then, I'll check my email every day. Write as often as you can, okay? I need to know you’re okay.
How is this shit legal? We’ll work it out. We have to. There’s no other option.
I miss you too.
B.
I stare at the screen, hitting refresh almost immediately.
Oh my God, Brooks. I’m so happy to hear from you. I’ve been waiting every day. (But I know you don’t check your emails, so you’re forgiven.)
Not much has changed. She lets me leave the house now. She’s even enrolled me in school. Everything is different here, and I want to come home. It’s like she’s been planning this all her life. She didn’t even put him on my birth certificate. Apparently, he had no idea. So some stupid paternity test and the fact he was never legally recorded as my dad. . . means she can do whatever she wants. She has a job here already. Her friend was some guy she used to date. She’s been using Derrick for his money, biding her time until this guy she’s with now was available again.
I don’t think I’m ever coming home, Brooks. Not until I’m eighteen and can leave on my own.
Tell your Mom I said THANK YOU. I can’t wait to hear your voice.
It rains here all the time, and we’re in the city. There are no rivers or forests for me to get lost in, which means I feel lost. I’m panicking, Brooks. How do I survive two years of this?
Address below. Henley x
“Mom!” I yell, scribbling down the address and running from my room. “I have the address. Let’s go.”
HENLEY
AGE 17
Derrick washed his hands of me as soon as he realized I wasn’t his biological child. At first, I was angry, but only because he was my ticket home. I was counting on him to fight for me as he’d done all my life—even if it was in the wrong way. But he didn’t. Not even a little bit.
I begged. I cried. In the end, he just stopped taking my calls. A man who I thought was my father was now nothing more than a stranger. One who couldn’t get away from me soon enough.
It all just proved my point, though. In the end, I was a commodity, and I became worthless to him the moment he couldn’t use me to barter.
The only good thing to happen from all this is I don’t have to hear them arguing anymore. The fighting, the hate, it just disappeared overnight. A snap of the fingers and all their animosity lives only as a memory and a reminder of the clusterfuck that is my life.
It’s just Mom and me now. . . and her douchecanoe of a boyfriend she has us living with. I have more quiet than I know what to do with. A complete one-eighty when I was only searching for a middle ground.
I don’t miss Lake Geneva. Not in a way I long for. I miss Brooks, and I miss my forest. But that’s about it.
There’s no forest for me to escape to here. The city is boxed in quite heavily. But I’ve learned how to remain alone in a crowd. It may have taken me nearly twelve months, but I did. I searched hard enough, and I found my place.
My secret spot is now the Thames River bus. I sit in the back where I can see the water and the sky. There’s no dirt under my feet or the damp smell of the forest in my nostrils, but it rains here a lot, so I’ve come to love the smell of the rain. The scent of the droplets when they hit the ground; like a freshly cut core into the earth. I’ve learned to welcome the tears of the sky on my skin.
School isn’t much different here in regards to school-aged politics. I keep my distance from it all, as I’ve always done. I’m just sad I don’t have Brooks or Addy. Initially, I stayed away
