Page 107 of Before We Were

Scott's holding Nate's arm so tight it looks like it hurts, but Nate just stares at the floor while his dad yells in his face. I don't like Scott—he's big and mean, like the bullies at school the teachers always tell off. I don't think Nate likes him much either, even though it's his dad.

I jump back from my door super quick, scared that maybe Scott saw me peeking. I hear Nate's door close and hear Scott talking really mean. I know I'm not supposed to spy on people—Mom always says it's not nice. My heart's going boom-boom-boom so loud in my chest, I think they might hear it. Scott's getting louder and angrier—he's yelling at Nate again. I can only hear bits and pieces, but it's about Nate doing something wrong. Scott always says Nate does things wrong, but that's not true. Nate's the best person I know.

When the door opens, I jump back and squish myself against the wall before running into the bathroom. Scott walks past, and he smells like the gross drink that makes grown-ups act weird at parties. Dad always tells me to stay far away from it. Scott looks super scary right now, and even though he's never yelled at me, I don't want him to start.

As soon as he's gone, I tiptoe down the hallway like a ninja. I know exactly what to do because I've watched Mom fix Ollie's cuts and scrapes lots of times. I grab some band-aids, a washcloth, and that special cream Mom always uses. My hands are shaky, but I try to be brave. I sneak into his room—the door makes that creaky sound like in scary movies—and there he is, curled up on the floor. His shoulders are moving up and down; he's crying. Even though he tries to hide it because Nate never wants anyone to see him cry.

"Nate?" I whisper, getting down on my knees next to him.

He keeps his face hidden, but I can see the big red mark on his cheek and the cut on his head. I wish I had magic powers to make it all better. He tries to hide his face more, but I touch his arm super gentle.

"You don't have to hide from me."

He stays quiet while I clean his cut, just like Mom showed me. The blood gets a bit messy, but I'm really careful.

"How do you know how to do this?" Nate's voice sounds all scratchy, like when I get a sore throat.

"Mom taught me," I say, trying to put the band-aid on just right. "She fixes people up all the time, mostly Ollie 'cause he's always falling off his bike. She says it's important to know how to help people when they're hurt." I smile when I see Nate watching me, like he's trying to figure out a puzzle.

"Does he hurt you a lot?" I ask in my quietest whisper-voice.

Nate doesn't say anything, but his eyes get all sad and that tells me everything.

"I'm sorry," I tell him, making sure the band-aid is stuck on good. "But you know what? It's gonna be okay, you know why?"

His sad eyes look up at me. "Why?"

"'Cause one day, when we're big, we're gonna run away together. We'll find a secret place, just like inThe Secret Gardenbook my dad reads us. Nobody will know where it is except us. We'll have a giant treehouse, and maybe some animals, and a huge waterfall to swim in!"

I see Nate's mouth twitch like he wants to smile but isn't ready yet.

He looks at me, taking big breaths like he's trying not to cry again. It makes my cheeks feel all warm when he looks at me like that, the way it always does.

"Promise?"

"Pinky promise." I stick out my pinky finger, trying to sound super brave even though my tummy feels full of butterflies.

He links his pinky with mine and we look at each other for forever.

“You know I'm right, like, one-hundred and ninety-seven percent of the time." I give him my biggest smile ever, hoping he'll laugh, and finally he gives me a tiny smile back.

There's my Nate.

I don't say it out loud, but my heart feels so big and full. I know for sure that this boy with the saddest eyes ever has my whole heart.

Nate moves a little and makes an"ouch"face.

"Why did he hurt you?" My voice is all wobbly now.

Nate looks up at me and his eyes get all watery again, but he's trying super hard not to cry in front of me. I want to tell him it's okay to cry. Mom always says crying helps get the sad out.

He tells me what happened. There was a big fight between his parents earlier while my family was out getting pizza. He found his dad's medicine and flushed it down the toilet, but his dad caught him. Then Scott pushed him really hard, and that's when Nate hit his head on the bathroom sink. My tummy feels sick when he talks about the blood, and how his dad slapped his face and pushed him against the wall, telling him not to tell his mom. Then Scott got even madder when Nate started crying, saying boys aren't supposed to cry.

I want to fix everything for him, like how Mom fixes my scraped knees or when Dad fixes my broken toys. But this feels bigger than band-aids can fix. I wish I could make all the hurt go away and take him to our secret garden right now.

"Come to my room," I say, holding my hand out. He looks confused, but I just say, "Come on."

In my room, I start pulling all my pillows and blankets off my bed while Nate sits there looking super tired.

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