Page 10 of One of Our Own

But that wasn’t even the thing that bothered me the most.

I couldn’t get past her mention of the college visit her crush was supposed to go on—a detail I also knew something about. This was the trip planned for all the junior and senior athletesto check out Stout’s athletic department. Hunter was supposed to go on the same visit. It was the reason he’d planned to stay overnight at his best friend Shai’s house after the party. But that’s not what happened: he called me in the middle of the night and asked me to come pick him up. He’d gotten into my car reeking of alcohol with an angry red scar on his cheek. The same night she got assaulted.

Hunter couldn’t really have had anything to do with that girl’s assault, could he? It had to be a coincidence. It had to be. That’s what I kept telling myself as I finally forced myself to get out of the car and go into the house.

“I’m in the kitchen, Mom,” Hunter yelled when he heard me come in.

My stomach rolled.

The sound of his familiar voice, calling out so sweetly like he’d done hundreds of times, sent a chill through my body. A sense of impending doom filled the air. I took tentative steps through the living room and into the kitchen. I wanted to know the truth as much as I wanted to stay in denial. Whatever happened next, I knew I could never go back.

Hunter’s back was to me at the stove. He turned around and flashed me a quick smile. “I was starving, so I started dinner. It’s just pasta, but don’t worry, I’ve got broccoli on, too,” he said, pointing to the steamer on the counter.

“Thanks,” I said. My voice didn’t sound like me, but he acted like he didn’t notice and turned around to finish cooking. I stared at his back as he stirred the noodles in the pot. It felt like just yesterday he was a little kid, sitting in a high chair—and now, here he was, taking care of himself, almost an adult.

The scene from the night of the party played out again while I watched him cook.

I’d fallen asleep in front of the TV when his text woke me up at almost two a.m. My brain immediately flipped through awful scenarios—car accidents, hospitals, sudden sickness—and I sat straight up in bed, immediately texting him back. I breathed a sigh of relief when he said he was okay and just wanted me to come pick him up. He couldn’t fall asleep at Shai’s house and wanted to spend the night in his own bed.

I was already up and moving through the house before I’d finished reading his text, slipping on my shoes and searching for my car keys. I was surprised when he wrote that he was actually not at Shai’s but at the water tower. They’d gone to a party after the football game, and Shai’s parents were supposed to pick them up afterward. What was he doing out by the water tower? It wasn’t anywhere near Shai’s house. The old Clark County water tower still stood outside the elementary school on Seventh Street, right next to the cornfields. It’d been there since I was a kid, a historic landmark. Kids climbed up it all the time—it was incredibly dangerous, but it was a rite of passage in his childhood same as it had been in mine.

I was in the car and headed to him in less than a minute. I didn’t like the idea of him at the water tower all by himself in the middle of the night. It didn’t matter that he was over six feet tall and seventeen—he was still my baby.

I didn’t see him when I first pulled up, but it wasn’t long before he appeared out of the shadows and slid into the passenger seat. I immediately smelled alcohol on him.

“You stink,” I said. It wasn’t just the alcohol… he reeked of sweat, like he did when I picked him up after cross-country practice.

He grunted without looking up from his phone. His hair was greasy and hanging in his eyes. Then I saw the huge scratch on his neck. Right on his jawline.

“Jesus, what happened to your neck?” I asked, reaching over to brush his hair off his face so I could see it better. But he smacked my hand away.

“Nothing. Don’t touch it. Leave me alone.” He glared at me. Was that a mark on his cheek, too?

“Hunter, what’s going on? What happened tonight?” He’d never been in any sort of trouble before. He wasn’t that kind of kid. But none of this felt right.

“Nothing, Mom. Everything’s fine. I went for a walk and ended up here. That’s all.” He hunched over in the passenger seat, typing fast on his phone. “I told you, I just changed my mind about sleeping over. I want to sleep in my own bed.”

“Everything’s obviously not fine. You call me in the middle of the night to pick you up at the water tower, and you get in my car smelling like alcohol, looking all ragged with a big scratch on your neck? Come on, Hunter. I’m not stupid.” The car was starting to warm up, but my words still came out in white puffs.

I wasn’t a blind-eye, bury-your-head-in-the-sand kind of parent. I was a tell-me-like-it-is type so we can figure out the problem together, and losing my sister had made me even more hypervigilant. Kids got into all kinds of trouble growing up, especially the older they got. My goal as a parent was to be his first call if he needed help or if he was in trouble. I’d gotten something right, because I was here, but I wanted to know what was going on. Clearly, this was more than feeling like sleeping in his own bed.

“I already told you—nothing. I just wanna go home. Can you leave me alone?”

“No, Hunter. I can’t. Obviously, something happened tonight.” I reached for his phone like I was going to take it away, since it was the only leverage I had left with him. He pulled it protectively against his chest, understanding the implied threat.

“Fine,” he huffed, finally looking up. “Me and Shai got into a fight. Happy now?” He scowled at me. There was no mistaking the angry red mark on his cheek.

“Like, an actual physical fight?” They’d never been in a fight, and they’d been best friends since Shai moved to town in second grade. He was taller than Hunter and weighed twenty pounds more, but my nickname for him was Gentle Giant. He was so mellow and never got riled. He was the calm to Hunter’s storm.

“Yes, Mom,” he said with the classic teenage sigh like I might be the most annoying person in the world with all my questions, but I didn’t care. I wasn’t letting something like this go.

“What did you get in a fight about?” Hunter had never been in a physical altercation with anyone. He had a temper, but he wasn’t a fighter. Something must’ve set him off. I waited a few more beats, but he ignored me. “What was the fight about?” I repeated myself.

“Nothing, okay? Just stupid shit. Don’t worry about it. I just wanna go home, and go to bed.” He pulled his AirPods out of his pocket and popped them in his ears. His face closed; completely impassive.

I dropped it then. Not because I didn’t want to know more, but because I knew pushing him would’ve gotten us nowhere. It was late, and we were both tired. Talking to him when he was in that kind of a foul mood was pointless.

I brought it up one more time at breakfast the next morning. I gave him an earful about making responsible choices when he was drinking, like I’d been doing ever since he started this past summer. He was seventeen, and I wasn’t naïve enough to think he wasn’t going to experiment with alcohol. I secretly hoped he chose alcohol over all the other terrifying substances kids could get their hands on these days. We reviewed the rules—neverdrinking when he had to drive, the importance of pacing yourself and stopping before you’re too drunk, calling me if he got in trouble—and then I asked him about the fight again. He didn’t want to talk about it in the morning any more than he’d wanted to talk the night before, but I didn’t let him wriggle his way out of it that time.

---