Our teacher tried to help me overcome it. She told me there were twenty more people in the choir, so the attention wasn’t solely on me. The choir wasn’t about me. It was about all of us—the unity. Gradually, I was able to relax enough and perform at a satisfactory level, but we had a school festival in about a month, right before spring break, and I was absolutely terrified of singing at it.
I watched him slurp his Coke. “How did your therapy go?”
Kevin had a speech disorder, and he’d started speech therapy a month earlier. He’d lived with his stutter his entire life, which put a huge dent in his self-esteem and desire to pursue his dreams. It made him afraid of communicating with others or meeting new people.
Once, he’d told me he felt his stutter defined him. He said nothing brought him more shame and frustration than when he did his best to speak fluently only to fail and be met with misunderstanding or ignorance, especially from those who deemed him stupid just because he couldn’t put his thoughts into words or took a long time to form a sentence. He faced mocking, pity, and annoyance day after day, which squashed his hope for change, so he chose to speak as little as possible. I wished I could help him somehow.
“It was so-so. We worked on easy onset. Again.”
“What’s that?”
“You s-start to use your voice gently and ease into the rest of, of, of the word.” He took a deep breath and demonstrated the technique. “We read s-s-some passages from a book.”
“How was it?”
“Exhausting. I don’t see any progress.”
“It takes time, Kev. You’ve only been going there for a month.”
“But I t-told you I went to therapy as a kid. Nothing helps. It’s not curable.”
“Maybe you just haven’t found the right therapist or therapy for you.”
He didn’t look convinced. It was true that many stuttering cases couldn’t be treated successfully, but I hoped that wouldn’t deter him from chasing his dream of becoming a singer. As unusual as it was, Kevin didn’t stutter when he sang, which was remarkable.
“Oh no,” he said with a suddenly pale face, looking at something behind me with wide eyes. “Look who’s here.”
My pulse quickening, I glanced over my shoulder. My cheeks warmed when I saw Blake, Mel’s brother Steven, Masen, and two girls enter the diner together. I whipped my head back and moved my hair to hide my face behind it. Just my luck.
“Please don’t let him see me,” I whispered to myself. “Don’t let him come anywhere near us. Make him sit at the far end of the room. Make him disappear into thin air.”
“I-I don’t think that’s gonna help, Jess. They’re heading our way.”
I sucked in a sharp breath. “You’re joking, right?” I pinched the bridge of my nose. “Please tell me this is just a bad dream. They’re not really here,” I muttered, staring at my cheeseburger which, all of a sudden, became much more interesting to look at than anything else.
“Would you look at that? It’s Burks!” Masen exclaimed, stopping right next to our table. I didn’t move, refusing to look away from my cheeseburger. “And Metts. I’m not surprised to see you here, Metts. You have to replenish your supplies of fat somewhere.”
The girls who were with them giggled, but I didn’t dare raise my head and look at any of them. Or at Blake. Almost instantly, I regretted eating this giant cheeseburger that probably had enough calories to last me a week.
“Why is she pretending to be a statue? Knock-knock,” Steven said, knocking on the top of my head twice.
“What do you want?” I said in a whiny voice as I snapped my gaze up to meet his, which was difficult since he was 6’5”. “Leave me alone.”
They went into a fit of laughter, and color rose to my cheeks. I still couldn’t look in Blake’s direction, though I saw him in my periphery behind Masen and the girls.
“Just checking if your brain is still there,” Steven said. His friendly smile didn’t feel right.
There was something about Steven that was totally off-putting, and I didn’t know if that was because he was a heavy user and typical bully or because he looked like a hyena with bloodshot eyes. I had to hand it to Melissa for putting up with her brother.
“You won’t find it,” Blake said, and I met Kevin’s gaze. He looked embarrassed. “She’s a stupid freak.”
I. Hate. Him.
“Come on,” Steven cooed. “She’s not all that bad. Maybe she’s got no brains, but she’s cute.”
I grimaced with another dose of mortification, feeling more and more eyes on us. I didn’t want to be in the spotlight. I wanted to bolt from here right away.
“Now, are we going to spend the whole day standing here or what?” Steven asked.
They finally moved to go sit down, but my relief was short-lived because of all the booths, they sat in the one right next to ours.
I almost groaned when Blake sat facing me. He raised his eyes to meet mine, and a jolt raced through my stomach. He held me in his unblinking gaze, rendering me immobile. My chest ached with unspoken feelings, which came from a twisted place that dismissed the fact that he was abusive toward me all the time.
I lowered my head and tried to hide behind my hair once more, but I knew it was useless. I could never hide from him.
I racked my mind for anything to talk about with Kev, but I couldn’t come up with anything, and I bit into my cheeseburger forcefully. It was like all ears and eyes were on us.
“Hey, girly four-eyes,” Masen started after the waitress took their orders. He turned around, patting Kevin on
