Page 83 of No Saint
“Don’t judge me,” I said.
“I’m not.”
Jade was silent as we made our way down the dimly lit street, her shoulders slightly slumped. I knew how hard it was to deal with a sick parent, the internal turmoil a person could put themselves through. The wanting to talk but not wanting to burden anyone else. But it was better to get it out than to hold it in.
Crickets silenced when we cut through Old Man’s overgrown property. “So, how is your dad?”
“I don’t know.” She shrugged her hunched shoulders. “He looks worse every time I see him.”
“Do they know what’s wrong with him?”
“Apparently a stomach ulcer.” She let out a humorless laugh. “But he won’t get the tests for a real diagnosis, so who knows?”
“No insurance?”
She shook her head.
My mom had tried to do the same thing, even though Dad had okay insurance. Dad wouldn’t have it. He’d have sooner bankrupted himself than lose her. “That’s shit.”
I tried to come up with something to say as we waded through the knee-high grass but fell short. What could I say to that load of crap? It was unfair and unjust, but one thing we’d learned growing up was that was just the way of the world, especially in Dayton.
“Employers, the hospital, the bank… No one gives a fuck.”
Because the businesses were what mattered, not the people who worked for them or paid them. I’d found it was easier to get angry about that than depressed about the reality. She was scared for her dad, and she wanted someone or something to blame.
“No, they don’t.”
We crossed the dark highway that cut around the edge of the neighborhood, then headed up the dirt path that had been trampled along the hill.
Near the top, a metal barricade had been installed, aNo Trespassingsign nailed to it. That hadn’t been there the last time I’d come here. Although it had been a while. After we’d broken up, I couldn’t bring myself to go up there, because over the years, it had become mine and Jade’s place.
It was at The Lookout that Jade had asked me to meet her a couple of days after that Barrington party. She’d cried, and I’d held her. The more she talked, the more the anger set in, and she decided to set Barrington High’s football field on fire. I wasn’t sure if the fact that I hadn’t tried to talk her out of it made me a good friend or not. But I think that moment of strength was what made me start to fall for her. Something shit-awful had happened to her, something she knew she’d never get justice for. So, instead of letting it break her, she torched shit.
Jade nodded toward the sign. “That’ll keep the drunk, horny teenagers out.”
Snorting, I placed the carton of beer on the other side of the barricade, then climbed over the metal bar and turned to grab her hand.
She stared at me like I’d lost my mind.
“I’m not saying you aren’t a strong, independent woman, but you’re short, Jade.”
“I’m not.” She huffed, crossing her arms over her chest. “You’re just massive. Like some giant.”
“Do you want this to be like the time you thought you could climb over that barricade on University Street?” Even in the dark, I could see her cheeks redden.
She’d refused to let me help her over and ended up stuck, skirt up, thonged ass in the air, on the main road through campus. It took me a good three minutes to stop laughing and help her over.
“You’re a dick.” She took my hand and put one foot on the railing.
“I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
“That cause was lost the day you laughed while everyone looked at my ass!”
She’d looked like an upturned beetle.
Twigs snapped beneath our feet as we made our way up the overgrown path. The trees eventually thinned out into a clearing that overlooked the sad town of Dayton.
Jade stopped by the edge, staring out at the scattering of lights. “Is it weird that I miss Dayton sometimes?”
