I’d left off. A real loser. Not even my own mother would believe me after Jade and Derek lined up witnesses to back any story they wanted. I’d be outnumbered.
“So what else is new?” I mumbled as I wiped tears off my cheeks.
What happened came at me in cruel flashes that I’d never forget. Derek’s buddies hauled me off to a bedroom and poured liquor down my throat until I threw up. And when they stripped off my clothes, I was terrified. I’d never been so scared in my life. I thought they would take turns raping me, but that didn’t happen. Once they saw the razor scars I’d cut into my arms and thighs, that gave Jade an idea. When she came back into the room, she had a razor and asked Derek to hold me down. I screamed and struggled to get free, but I wasn’t strong enough.
Jade cut off my hair. She hacked at it until it was shredded. After she’d done her worst, Derek punched me in the face. I didn’t remember much after that, except the laughter as they paraded me through the party. After that, some guys shoved me into a truck and dumped me in the middle of nowhere—without any clothes—their idea of a joke.
Until tonight, only my mom had ever seen me naked.
I ran my trembling fingers through what was left of my hair and I cried harder. I was so royally screwed. And I had a bad feeling that I hadn’t seen the worst. I shut my eyes and leaned my head against the cinder block wall. The darkness swallowed me whole and I welcomed it. I desperately wanted to turn the clock back, but since I couldn’t do that, I pictured one of the last times I felt safe and at peace.
Thinking about White Bird had become a Band-Aid to my soul.
Being down by the creek was always special, but after the sun went down, that was when magic took over. White Bird felt it, too. I saw it in his dark eyes.
Nightfall was special for both of us.
The moon shed its luster and dappled the swirling creek water with pure glitter. And the sound of the water trickling over stones became music to my ears. I saw the world with different eyes back then. And I felt absolutely everything. The cool night air blew through my hair and the darkness was a welcoming embrace that I’d grown to love.
And White Bird had opened my eyes to all of it.
One memory in particular took shape in my mind. His voice had come to me first, as if he’d whispered in my ear to get me to remember it. It made my ear tickle and I smiled. I should have felt the cut on my lip, but I didn’t.
White Bird had wanted so desperately to belong to the Euchee that he’d listened to the elders of the tribe and read everything he could at the library on his people. But when he discovered how important the language of signs was to them, he devoured anything he could on the subject. He felt a mystical connection to the earth and to the universe and to the tribal ancestors who had come before.
The study of signs had become like a religion to him. And one night he shared his thoughts with me after we’d hiked a trail along the creek and we sat staring up at the full moon. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the moon looked huge. And everything was dusted in a powdery blue, including us.
We sat on a large boulder, back-to-back, staring up into the starry heavens. The warmth of his skin came through his shirt and I swear I felt his heart beating in time with mine. And his voice resonated through his chest and into me like an undeniable charge of electricity.
Pure magic.
“The ancient tribes used to read signs in everything,” he told me. “But man became a great skeptic. And science and technology demanded proof. Having faith wasn’t good enough anymore. And reading signs became nothing but superstition.”
I loved listening to him talk. His voice had become a melody I couldn’t shake, but that night he sounded more serious. He wanted me to understand something very important to him.
“But, Brenna, I believe there is only a thin veil that separates the mystical world from the reality we think we see. We only have to open our minds to the possibility. If we accept that