Page 32 of The Upside of Falling
Head pounding, I lift off the floor and stand, going to pick up my mattress. The back of Ted’s hand connects with my face, catching me off balance, and sends me flying into my dresser.
“I expect better tomorrow.” Picking up his coffee, he adjusts his tie, steps over me and heads out of my room, slamming my door.
Hand holding my stinging cheek, I lie on my floor for a few seconds, allowing the tears to fall.
I couldn’t care less about the bed, about the messhemade, about the backhand to my face. That is what I’ve come to expect from Ted, my stepfather.
What makes me cower in the corner—causes my sorrow to fall from my eyes—is the visible bruise the backhand will cause.
I won’t be able to see Gramps today or for the next few days.
They don’t let me see Gramps if I have a bruise.
They don’t let me talk to him about what happens in the house, and I wouldn’t dare because I know if I did, I would lose Gramps forever. That’s what they told me.
And I can’t lose Gramps, not after how I almost lost him when Dad died. Gramps barely survived his heart attack. I don’t want to cause him any more stress.
So I keep my mouth shut, and I do what I’m told. I keep everything hidden, and I stay out of Ted’s way. I commit the moments I get to see Gramps to memory and hold them close to my heart, because the moments I share with him are what get me through the long stints when I’m separated from him.
Chapter Fourteen
COLBY
Forty-five degree angle and tuck.
Smooth out all the wrinkles.
Tuck and smooth.
Have to make it perfect.
Taking a coin from my pocket, I flip it onto my mattress and proudly watch it bounce up.
Good.
I take a deep breath and sit on my desk chair, eyeing the corners of my bed. They’re tucked; they’re fine. You’re not adjusting them.
As I’m reaching for my boots, my phone buzzes on my desk next to me.
Rory.
I plugged her number into my phone the other day, just in case she decided she wanted to text me. If even after everything I put her through, she still wants to see me.
I have a little time before I have to be at breakfast, and Hardie is in the shower, so I have some privacy. Spinning in my chair, I face the desk and open up the text.
Rory:Hey Colby, it’s Rory. Just got your letter. I forgot to check my mail last night. I figured you were awake . . . You’re awake, right?
There is a small tug on the corner of my lips as I text her back.
Colby:Yes, I’ve been awake for a while.
Not knowing what else to say, I send the message, feeling like a dickhead. She doesn’t take very long to respond.
Rory:Did you sleep well?
Colby:As best as I could. We find out today if we made flight school.
Rory:OMG! That’s so exciting. Are you nervous?
