Page 34 of Behind the Bars

“He’s Elliott.” She laughed. “He’s too good foreveryone.”

“Why did you pull me away up there? Why did you helpme?”

“Because I know how it feels.” Katie ran her hands through her dark curly hair and shrugged her shoulders. She looked just like her brother in many ways, from her caramel skin to her hazel eyes. The only difference between the two was how she carried herself. She held her head high while Elliott’s confidence shook. “Last year, I was you. I was the one the guys talked about. I was a junior getting attention from senior guys and I felt unstoppable. All the girls hated me, but I didn’t care. They were just jealous, I told myself. They just wished they could be me. Then, one night I made a mistake at a party. I got wasted and…” She swallowed hard. “There was a video of me doing things with a group of guys, and it got around. Needless to say, I wasn’t as unstoppable as I imagined. Come Monday morning, my locker was painted red, and the video was viewed by just about everyone at school. I was humiliated. I mean, Jesus, even my little brother sawit.”

“Oh my God,” I muttered, stunned. “I can’t evenimagine.”

She nodded. “It was bad. I spent a lot of nights crying in my room. My mom didn’t know how to help me, because I couldn’t bring myself to tell her what had happened. I was too ashamed. Then one night as I was crying, Elliott came into my room, and he sat on the edge of my bed and said, ‘It’s not true, what they wrote about you.’ I laughed, because it was comedic, ya know? I knew it was true. I told him that, too. He’d seen the video, so there was no real way to deny what had happened, but still, he said, ‘It’s not true.’ I asked him how it wasn’t true, and he said, ‘Because they don’t get to label you. Those guys don’t get to tell you who youare.’”

Oh,Elliott.

“When he overheard the guys talking about me at school, he got into a fist fight with them, and obviously, he lost. That’s the reason he gets beat up so bad now. He beat up Todd’s older brother, who graduated last year. So now, because of me, he’s bullied everyday.”

“It’s not your fault those guys are jerks. They would’ve found a reason to hurt someoneregardless.”

“I know, but I just wish it wasn’t Elliott. He’ll never admit that it bothers him, you know? He just takes the bullying,” she told me. “Which is why I worry about him, because he’d rather get himself hurt than his loved ones. He’s been that way all ourlives.”

“I can seethat.”

“When my mom was with my dad, he used to shout at her all the time. Then, one day the shouting turned into shoving. The next time, hitting. He normally hid it well from us kids, but one night, Dad got so upset that he went to slap Mom in front of us. Elliott leaped up and shoved Dad into a wall.” She snickered and shook her head. “He was seven years old and stood up to our dad, to protect Mom. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Elliott is a stick—there’s no part of my brother that should befighting.”

“But still, he gets up and goes to war,” I said, my chest feelingtight.

“Yup. Every day. Every day he goes to war for the ones he loves, and he’ll make sure to go out of his way so you know it wasn’t your fault. So, I get you feeling embarrassed about him seeing what they wrote on your locker, but don’t, because he won’t care. He’ll just want to make sure you’re allright.”

When I finally built up the courage to leave the bathroom, I headed back to the world of high school. I didn’t see Elliott, though. I was both happy and sad about that fact; I was afraid of what he’d think of me, but I also craved being in hispresence.

At the end of the day, I walked toward my locker, and when I saw Elliott standing next to it, butterflies formed in my stomach. He gave me a half-grin, and I gave him one right back. My locker was scrubbed clean, but still, the memoriespersisted.

“Hi,” hesaid.

“Hi.

“Are youokay?”

“I’m okay.” I shifted my weight around on my feet, unable to stand still. “Did you see my lockerearlier?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

I looked down at my hands and started to fiddle with my fingers. My nerves were building more and more as I waited for his reaction, but he didn’t give meone.

“I should get going so I don’t miss the bus home.” He rubbed his hand on the back of his neck. “Are youokay?”

“Yes.”

He parted his lips as if he wanted to say something, but no words cameout.

I smiled. “Areyouokay,Eli?”

His smile was laced with nerves. “Yes. Sorry. Okay, well, I’ll see you later.” He started to walk away, but then he paused, turning back to face me. “Can I t-t-take youout?”

“What?”

“I just…I was wondering if I could take you out on a date, and not like a friend-date, but like adatedate.” As he spoke, the butterflies in my stomach kept swirling around. “You can say no!” he addedquickly.

“I want to say yes, it’s just…” I bit my bottom lip. “Is it because you feel bad about what happened to my locker? Is it a pitydate?”

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