He drops one of my hands and taps a finger gently against my temple, stepping even closer, until I’m forced to look up at him or take a step back. His gaze searches mine, then drops to my lips, and for one horrifying, heart stopping moment, I think he’s going to kiss me, really kiss me, in broad daylight on my front porch.
But then he chuckles and steps back. “Don’t be a stranger,” he says, walking backwards down the steps with a grin on his face again. “You can come over to our house too, you know. We may not have a pool, but we have us.”
“I know,” I say, my heart still doing funny things and my stomach full of nervous butterflies. I turn to the door, letting a wide grin overtake my face as I step through. I feel high, like I could float away, or cheer, or dance around my room like a maniac. I can’t wait to recount my week to Poe, like I do every weekend.
“Where the hell have you been?” demands a gruff voice from the other room.
The balloon of sparkling joy inside my chest deflates, and I’m back to being myself, back to my dark house and the danger lurking there.
“I missed the bus,” I say, wondering if I can stay out of sight of him and sneak up the stairs.
“I know you missed the damn bus,” he snaps, and I hear the pause while he sucks on his cigarette. “Get in here, girl.”
I think about making a run for the stairs, but my programming is too strong. My feet carry me slowly into the living room, where he sits in front of the little boxy TV as usual. I can’t feel my fingers, and my throat is so tight I can barely get air in. I’m starting to feel lightheaded, the world receding into grey as I slip further from my body.
“What’s this I hear about you getting into a fight?” he asks, staring at the TV instead of me.
“What?”
“Didn’t think I’d hear about it, huh?” he asks, his gaze swinging my way at last.
I flinch back.
“I got a call from the school,” he goes on, swishing the end of his cigarette in the ash and butts left in the ashtray on the arm of his chair. “Three girls say you attacked them in the locker room after school.”
“I…” I fight for breath, for words. “I was defending myself.”
“What in god’s name are you wearing?” he asks, narrowing his eyes at me and taking in the knee-length t-shirt and tennis shoes that make up my entire outfit. I’m suddenly very, very aware that I’m not wearing anything under it. Lee’s not that kind of creep, but I still don’t want to be around him when I’m wearing so little.
“It’s from the fight,” I say, relieved I have a reasonable explanation, even if I’d rather him not know about that. “My clothes got torn.”
“And who gave you that?” he asks.
“Some guy had it in his locker,” I say. “He offered it to me.”
Lee stares at me through the haze of smoke. I have one second to take in the way his hands suddenly tighten on the arms of his chair, and then I’m spinning on my heel and running. I hear his footsteps behind me, but I don’t look back. My heart races frantically in my chest, my Reeboks hitting the hardwood with each step, and then I’m at the stairs. Lee grabs my arm and spins me around, his hand cracking across my cheek.
My head whips back, and I stumble on the stairs and fall onto my ass. The edge of the next step bites painfully into my back, but I don’t make a sound. Lee grabs my hair, thundering about me thinking I can run from him. His fist sinks into my gut, and the pain takes my breath as thoroughly as his fist. He holds me by the hair on the crown of my head.
“You want a fight?” he growls, slugging my stomach again, my arms, my knees. Finally he lets my hair go, and I curl up on my side while he batters my side and back. And then his palm cracks across my bare ass, my shirt having ridden up.
“Why the fuck aren’t you wearing underwear?” he demands. “You expect me to believe those got ruined a girl fight? You think I’m blind? You think I work my ass off to house a dirty slut who can’t make it through the day with her clothes on?”
I reach down and tug the shirt over my ass, even though it leaves me open for the next blow, this one landing on the side of my breast. I think I’m going to pass out from pain. Finally, Lee steps back, breathing hard. “Get some damn clothes on,” he snaps. “You’re grounded from going out, and if I see a boy come around here looking for you, he’s going to end up in the back of my cruiser. You’re not even eighteen yet.”
I don’t say anything. My ears are ringing, and pain is crashing over my body in waves.
I wait for him to walk away, and then I pick up my backpack and drag myself upstairs, where I crumple into bed. Every good thing that happens to me turns on its head in moments. It’s like I’m cursed. Lexi told me that crows are a bad omen, and that the Murder of Crows chose them because they’re so common in our neighborhood and they mean death is near. I hope it’s Lee’s death, but so far, no such luck.
I lie in bed staring out the window as the sky turns grey and then darker with the approaching storm. Then I see her outside my window.
“Poe,” I cry, dragging myself to sitting. She comes in the middle of the day every day, even though I’m in school. I know because she’s always here on the weekends. She usually doesn’t come in the evenings, but here she is. Maybe the storm scared her from her nest.
I hobble to the window and open the glass, letting in a gust of bitterly cold, damp air. A few fat drops of cold rain splatter down from the blackened sky.
“You hungry, girl?” I ask.
I prop the window open and hurry as fast as I can back to my bag, pulling out a package of square, orange, peanut butter sandwich crackers. I dump out the last two and return to the window, where Poe is cawing angrily.