Thirty-Five

Winnie

Six Months Later

They say, time heals all wounds. Or at least that’s what I’ve been told in every one of my counseling sessions.

After the shooting, they force-fed me so much hope along with my hospital food that I honestly believed it was possible. Eventually, I’d forget the blood and the searing pain from the bullet. If I were lucky, the memories of Tess would even lessen. But I knew the damage that was done to my brain wouldn’t be as easy to shed. I’d always walk around with memories from my childhood of a parent I was slowly forgetting and one I couldn’t remember at all.

There’d come a day when Tess won an appeal or was granted bail for good behavior even though she’d never been known for that, and I’d have to face the world with her back on the streets. I’d thought all that would happen with Trey by my side and that I’d survive whatever life threw at me because of him.

What I hadn’t seen coming was a life without him.

When I woke up in the hospital, my mouth was so dry, my tongue was stuck to the roof of my mouth. My head throbbed, and my eyes felt like they were about to explode. Pressure and fullness shook my heart, and I wasn’t sure if I was even controlling it on my own anymore. There had to be something inside me, a tube or a mechanical robot or whatever they used pushing me through the pain.

Then, I opened my eyes and saw the muted lights and the popcorn tiles on the ceiling. I’d counted those little dots hundreds of times when I was recovering from surgery. I didn’t realize the impact they had on my memory and recovery until I found myself already at thirty and then nearing the count of fifty, completely soothed by the numbers.

“She’s awake,” I heard from somewhere in the room.

The voice didn’t belong to anyone I knew. That scared me. I didn’t like strangers almost as much as I hated people touching me.

“Trey?” I asked, hoping he was close this time.

I didn’t want to go through months of hospital rehabilitation without him again. Though the chances of him safely staying with me were slim, I still held on to that little bit of hope that it was possible. I was a dreamer like that.

Then, I saw the kind eyes and gentle smile that belonged to my friend. At least, I thought he was still my friend. He’d done some unforgiveable things, and I wasn’t sure if the kiss we’d shared canceled them out or if I was still supposed to hate him. I didn’t. I never would.

“Jasper.”

“I’m here,” he said. “Just rest.”

“What happened?”

I remembered The Whip and then standing in the spotlight when the music came on. Everything after that was a blur. Maybe that was a good thing because I was sure I’d made a fool of myself.

“Did I do it?” I couldn’t even say the word strip out loud. It made me feel too dirty.

He shook his head. “I called Trey, and he pulled you off the stage in time.”

That scared me. Trey knew. He had seen me dressed up like Ariel. That also meant I hadn’t kept my word to Ace. I’d promised him I’d make him a lot of money, and I’d choked.

“I’m in trouble with your brother, right? That’s why you’re here?”

“No,” he whispered. “My brother can go fuck himself. You shouldn’t have been there, Winnie.”

I had plans. Plans that took money, and dancing was the answer. Fast cash meant freedom, and I wanted it so bad, I could taste it.

“Can I see Trey now? He’s here, right?”

“He’s not here,” he told me.

I knew from the moment he’d said it that it wasn’t like before. Trey hadn’t disappeared because he had to; he was gone because he was forced to stay away.

“Where is he?” I asked, so afraid of the response I’d get.

He couldn’t be in trouble.

“The cops took him. They tried to get a statement from you at the trailer, but you were still unconscious. They’ll be back though.”

I didn’t want to talk to the cops. Trey didn’t do anything wrong. He was good to me, better than anyone had ever been, and I’d tell them that. I’d show the police what a good man he was and how he was the only family I had left. Whatever trouble he was in, I’d clear his name and bring him back to me. I had to. Because, if I didn’t, I wouldn’t be able to live with myself for ruining his life.

Cindy came in the room next and took my hand. I pulled my fingers out of her grasp. I didn’t care why she was there or what her intentions were. There was no way I was going with her again.

“I brought Dray,” she told me. “He wanted to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?” I asked her.

That was when I looked at Dray and finally saw him for what he was. A liar. He had tears streaming down his face and wiped at them with his sleeve. It was soaked, so I figured he’d been crying for a long time. I’d never seen a boy cry before. I thought only girls did that.

Cindy urged Dray forward, and he took his place next to my bed.

“It was me, Winnie. I sent the text, and I’m the one who started the rumor. Jasper had nothing to do with it.”

I figured Dray had only opened his mouth and told Cindy the truth because I had gotten into trouble and ended up in the hospital. If I had gone on with life the way it was at Sunshine Place and never run away, I was positive he’d have let Jasper take the blame.

I wasn’t sure what hurt worse—Dray lying to me or watching him break down in front of me. I knew in that moment that he was just as sick as his dad. All the hate he carried around, he used on people like me, even if he didn’t mean to. Because, if he made me hurt, then he’d hurt less. Cutting was my defense mechanism, the tool I used to feel human again. Humiliation and lies were Dray’s. I know he didn’t like who he was or that he did mean things to someone he cared about, but he didn’t know how to stop doing it, either.

Guilt ate me alive, and I reached for Jasper. He took my hand, and we linked our fingers together, the way we had done so many times before. This time, I didn’t fight the connection. I knew he was there because he loved me, not because Trey had told him to stay by my side.

Jasper hadn’t ruined what little was left of my reputation, and he probably didn’t break those windows at the trailer either. How could I have thought he did it? Why was it so hard for me to trust my only friend? He’d never done a single thing wrong.

Still holding on to Jasper, I glanced at Dray and said, “Please leave me alone. I don’t ever want to see you again.”

Dray inhaled and then exhaled a shaky breath. He was hurting, and I worried he’d leave and find a new victim.

Cindy cleared her throat, and Dray said, “I’m sorry you ran away and got hurt. I didn’t mean for this to happen.”

It didn’t matter though. There was nothing I could do to stop him. Dray was Dray. Alex was Dray. And it confused the hell out of me.

“You can’t be two people,” I told him.

I knew that better than most. I’d tried to be both Winnie and Ariel, and I’d almost died.

Dray nodded. He understood what I meant. The guy he was at the home was nothing like the kid he was when he walked the halls at school like a god. Pieces of both were genuine, and maybe if he meshed both personalities together, he’d be whole again. But it wouldn’t be easy. I knew that, too.

That was why I told him, “Dray needs help, and Alex needs to stop being fake. Let people see the real you, whoever you are.”

Jasper squeezed my hand and gave me a little half-smile. He liked when I stood up for myself, and that little bit of pride that shone down on me, I latched on to it. But Jasper wasn’t my lifeline this time. He was my best friend and maybe even my future.

Future. I finally liked the sound of that word.

Because, sometimes, we had to get knocked down lower than we’d ever been in order to appreciate the possibility of more. I had another chance to pick and choose which piece of myself to bring along with me, and then I’d leave the rest behind. It wouldn’t be easy, but this time, I wanted to rise higher than ever before.

When the room was clear and it was just me and Jasper, he sat beside me in the bed and held me as I sobbed against his chest. Reality was a bitch sometimes, and it was hitting me hard. I wanted to cut one last time, and then I wanted to scream. And, when I was done with all that, I might even want to take off again, running as far away as I could get.

I wanted to live.

I wanted to die.

Mostly, I wanted to feel something other than pain.

Jasper played with my hair, and I was relieved when I saw the strands were dark brown and not red.

“It’ll be okay, Winnie. I’m not going anywhere.”

I wanted to believe him. I chose to trust him. “I’m sorry I thought you’d sent the text.”

“Don’t be,” he told me. “We’re okay. That’s all that matters.”

But I wasn’t okay. Not yet. And I couldn’t give Jasper any kind of time frame of when I might be okay again.

Those moments with Jasper changed me more than the blood, the bullet, and the stage combined. It was one single second of total honesty combined with a million other truths, truths I wasn’t ready to accept until then. And it was in those minutes that I gained more perspective than I knew what to do with. It hit me out of nowhere, and the life I had known before was over.

I was forced to let go of my dreams with Trey. I knew he wasn’t coming for me this time, and there was nothing I could do to clear his name. We had done so many things right and then messed them all up just as fast. Rules existed for a reason. Boundaries were in place to create an even playing field and take away confusion. You couldn’t break them and succeed. It just wasn’t possible.

But Trey’s charges went far beyond the lies the world believed about me. We could have obeyed every single law, and it wouldn’t have mattered. Trey was good to me, but he wasn’t one of the good guys. He sold drugs his entire life and worked for a boss who put him in sketchy situations to make a load of cash. Trey knew it was wrong and when the money stopped meaning more than lives, he wanted out. He wanted out for me and for us. But he was in too deep and it was too late to run. The cops wanted him. It was only a matter of time before they got their guy.

If Jasper hadn’t made the call to the police, Trey’s boss would have eventually tracked him down. He knew too many secrets to walk away without consequences. There was so much information locked away in his brain, he could bring down the entire operation with a single word. He’d never do that, but as long as the possibility was there, he’d never be a free man.

Trey was gone.

My favorite person was behind bars, and I didn’t think he’d ever be set free. Not in this lifetime anyway.

Never seeing Trey again turned the pain into unwavering sadness. Despite how badly I wanted to get better, depression was like standing underneath a wave of water so high, you knew that, once it captured you, you’d never survive it. And, if you did, you’d never be the same. The weight of the world swallowed me up, churned me beneath the surface, and then spit me back out, completely lifeless.

I’d never taken a breath without Trey in my life.

I didn’t want to.

I had to.

Normally, I’d cut to numb the pain of missing Trey. The blade was the equivalent of a Band-Aid, but I couldn’t do it anymore. If I wanted to get better, I had to promise myself I’d never make another cut.

The blades were replaced by a journal, and I was told to write in it whenever the urge to cut struck. For the first couple of days, the journal went everywhere I did. I had trouble finding moments when I didn’t think about razors. But, the more I wrote, the more I realized that numbing my feelings was harder than writing them.

Most of the words I write only make sense to me, but that’s okay because they’re mine.

I carry a leather-bound book of guilt and denial.

“It’s not your fault, Winnie,” the counselors tell me. Every. Single. Day.

But Trey was arrested because of me, so that makes his sentence my fault. And that’s why I almost killed myself.

I had to.

One last cut wasn’t enough of an apology to Trey. I thought giving my life would make it right.

I told that story in therapy today. And I think it almost sent me back to the beginning…