"Mr. Reyes came to see me at the shop."
"Why?"
"He wanted to know if I took you from the house."
"What? No! We left together, but—we had to."
"I know that and you do. The problem is they've got a school full of people who don't. My dad called and accused me of sleeping with you. He said you're a ward of the state now, and they can press charges against me for it."
"What do you mean? We haven't done anything because you knew that."
"Look, it doesn't matter. They won't bat an eye about charging me; everyone knows we're together."
"Charging you for what? You didn't do anything."
We've talked to Mr. Reyes since, and even he still doesn't believe we never had sex back then. We've agreed to disagree on the subject: we can't make him—or anyone—believe us if they don't want to, and that was his point to Justin that day.
"Haylee," Justin sighed and ran both of his hands through his hair, "Listen to me. They're going to try and charge me with statutory rape."
"They can't!"
"They can. And Mr. Reyes said they will if I keep you from them. Child Protective Services are looking for you. They want you to go with them today. As long as they get you, they won't charge me. You understand?"
"What are they going to do with me?"
"They're going to find you a home."
"A home? I have a home. We have a home."
"It's not a home for a fourteen-year-old girl. It's fine for me, I'm nineteen now and on my own. If you were older they wouldn't care. He says you need to be taken care of."
"I take care of myself. We take care of each other."
"I know that, but they don't care. If you don't turn yourself in, they're going to find me and charge me and arrest me! No more job, Haylee. No more money. No more home. I go to jail and they still take you. Do you know what that does to our future? It ruins it."
"But we haven't had sex! We could have last night, and we didn't. They can't!"
"Haylee," he said, cupping my face in his hands, staring me down, "They can–and they're going to. It's only a matter of time before they find me."
"Mr. Reyes turned you in?"
"No, but he can't risk his job over it, he said he has to tell them where I work tomorrow if you don't turn yourself in."
"But it's not fair, you didn't do anything wrong. You were saving us."
"I moved a fourteen-year-old girl into an apartment. What do you think it looks like to everyone?"
My head swam. This was not at all what I thought would happen. It was supposed to get better away from Clayton's wrath. Losing me scared Justin as much as losing him scared me. He raked his hands through his hair again.
"I can't lose you. You're all I've got. But he's right, I can't take care of you either. You need to be in school, doing Spirit week and worrying about test scores; not paying bills and dodging CPS."
"I'm going to school. I went today; yesterday I had to figure out the buses."
"Haylee you've barely been there since your mom died."
"So? Things are hard right now. I'll go. I won't miss a day. I promise."
"You don't get it. They think you need more help than I can give you right now and they're right. I can't afford to support the two of us. I can't give you the stuff you need. And I definitely can't if they lock me up."
"What are we supposed to do then?"
"Do what they want. You have to turn yourself in. We can write—you remember you always wanted me to write you love letters? Guess you got your wish." He was trying to lighten up the mood. It didn't work. "And wait. I know you don't believe it, but you'll be old enough in no time; then we can be together and no one can stop us."
I stared at him. Later wasn't enough. I wanted him now.
"Look. Think about it this way: I'm going to enlist, right?"
"Yeah?"
"I was going to wait until you were old enough but I can do it now, and by the time my four years are done, you'll be old enough, we'll get married and no one will separate us ever again."
It was a lie. All Justin wanted was to convince me to turn myself in so he could stay out of trouble and I could get a good home, like I was a stray puppy or something.
"I won't go."
"You're killin' me! You think I want you to? Think about it. Think long and hard about it, what do I have without you? Nothing! You're my life, Haylee. Everything I've ever done is for you! But we're screwed. If you stay I go to jail and everything we've worked for is gone. We have to do this. There's no choice. Baby, believe me if there was any other way I'd do it. But there's not. Four years. That's all."
"We can leave. We can go where no one knows us."
"No, we can't run from this."
"Sure we can; why couldn't we?"
"Because, Haylee—" I could tell he didn't want to say it—"you're just a kid. You're too young."
"I'm not! We can do this."
"How? I can't pretend to be your dad and put you into school at the next place we go, even if we could find somewhere else to go. I got a job here, and only because Mr. Reyes hooked me up. If I leave, I ain't got nothing, especially if they put a warrant out for my arrest because I kidnapped you. We'd always be looking over our shoulders and if we got caught it would be ten times worse."
"But you didn't do anything to me!"
"It... doesn't... matter! Why can't you get it? It doesn't matter what we say or do. They got us nailed. We can't outrun them."
"Yeah we can. Kids go missing all the time, and they never find them."
"They get killed, that's why. I'm not going to live on the streets just so we can be together."
"You don't want to be with me?"
"I didn't say that, Haylee. Don't put words into my mouth I didn't say."
"Then what? You're going to give up on us? You're going to let go?" He was abandoning me; I felt it.
"No, never! There's no me without you; you're my heart and soul. It's just like before; it's just like with the kiss. You remember when you wanted it?"
"Yeah, but it's not the same. We were together."
"We'll still be together." He took my hand and put it against his chest so I could feel his heart. I started to cry but no sound came out. "Mr. Reyes said I could write you; I'll write you every day."
"It's not the same."
"It's exactly the same. All you have to do is wait for me, baby. Wait, and I'll be there for you."
"No. No! I don't want to leave."
Then he pulled me to him and held me while I cried. He tried to cover me from all the sadness with his strong arms, but they didn't have the power to make the mess that was my life disappear.
"Shhhhh," he cooed to me, rocking me, holding me.
The tears wouldn't stop. My life was one nightmare after another. Every time I thought things were going to get better, they got worse, and there was nothing I could do about it. I had cried so much by then I couldn't even believe I had any more tears left. I wanted to stop, but I couldn't. My life would mean nothing without him.
"Then I'll kill myself."
"What are you talking about?" As he grabbed my face in his hands I saw real live fear in his eyes. He was afraid I would do it. I didn't think I really would; I was desperate, but I wanted to live. I wanted to live with him, by his side. I really didn't want to live without him. No one could make me.
"You can't think like that, Haylee. You can't! What would I do without you? You're my everything. I can't lose you. Don't do that to me. Please, baby, promise me you won't. You think I want any of this? You think I haven't tried to figure out a way to get around it? If we could, I would take you right now. We'd get out of here and be gone, but we're trapped. One way or the other they're going to find us, take you, and put me in jail. We lose if we play our way. But if we wait, play the game their way, we can be together. What's a few years?" He smiled, trying to fake us both into believing it was the best option. "We can do this, Haylee."
"No! We can't. I can't. Where will I go?"
"I don't know."
"Exactly! I don't have anywhere to go. I won't go back to Clayton if they try to send me back to him."
"Not gonna happen; I told Reyes he was no good for you. If he tries it, I'll have him arrested for what he did to you."
"But I don't have anywhere else. They're gonna make me a foster kid or something."
"It couldn't be worse than living with my dad, right?"
I cried. It wasn't like before when he didn't know what to do or say. He had all day to think about it, and he knew this was our only option. He knew what we had to do and what the state would do if we did anything else, and I had no choice but to go along helplessly. I could walk out his door, the door of the apartment that was supposed to be our home, and never look back, but where would I go? So much for being bold.
He was right: we had no choice.
He pulled me into his lap and rocked me like a baby while I cried.
"I'll take you to the school tomorrow. Turn yourself in and let me know where you are as soon as you can. We'll make it through this. I promise."
For the longest time we sat together on the edge of the bed, rocking quietly and doing what tragic lovers do: promising the world and that we would always love each other and nothing could separate us. Then the words were all used up, the promises were all made, and we had to move on because the moment called for it.
Food and books were really all we had to occupy us. In our haste to move we had forgotten pots and pans and were now realizing it. We heated cheap chili dogs in the apartment's included microwave and ate them in silence, pondering four years of future questions. Because there was nothing else to do, we did what came naturally: he played the guitar and I listened. He read his book and I sat beside him on my twin bed reading the one I started earlier, wishing I was on the Enterprise and a million light years, or only four earth years, away from where I was. I lost myself in the story, only coming back to reality when Justin turned a page.
It was a pretty boring night for all the questions that loomed in front of us. We didn't want to go out in case someone was at the grocery store or movies looking for us. I laugh now at how we stayed holed up, like our lives depended on it, like any second someone would bust down the door and demand my release. Truth was we were minor blips on anyone's radar; when five o'clock hit, the state was done working for the day. We could have gone out and had a last night on the town without fear, but we were so young and egocentric we were sure everyone was looking for us. Nothing kept us inside but our own ideas of self-importance.
We lay down together one last time at ten o'clock after I showered the refuse of the day off my body. Time for one last intimate memory.
"Good night, Haylee," he said smoothing my wet hair down and out of my face.
I begged him to make love to me, to give me that one thing to hold on to—it didn't even matter anymore, anyway—but he refused, not in a mean way but in Justin's strong, firm, nothing-would-change-his-mind way.
"Baby, we can spend the night fighting about something that's not going to happen or we can enjoy it and be together. I want that."
"Kiss me then,"
"Now, that I'll do." He smiled, pulled me to him, lifted my chin—still slightly sore from Clayton's assault days earlier—and kissed me. Like the first, this one meant so much more than simply skin on skin. His one hand stayed propped under my head while the other held my cheek, thumb touching the corner of my lips while we kissed. I cried knowing it was our last night together, realizing I'd never spent a night away from Justin since my mom had moved in with Clayton. He felt my tears and looked at me, held me with his eyes, promising me forever but just not yet. Then he pulled me into his chest, wrapped me up, and said, "I love you, Haylee. Wait for me."
"Always," I answered him, and I meant it as much as any fourteen-year-old can mean anything.
He woke me up early the next morning before he had to be at work. I packed the clothes I could carry into my backpack along with the book he let me keep to finish. Inside the cover he wrote the address to the apartment that was not ours but his alone and the number to Treadmore's since we didn't have a phone yet.
"As soon as you know where you'll be, write me. Promise."
"Yeah."
I cried again the whole way to the car and during the ride to the school. It's so much faster to get somewhere when your heart is breaking; it felt like mere seconds between the beginning and end of the trip.
"I can't go with you or I would."
"I know. I'm afraid."
"Don't be, baby. It'll be OK." He pulled me in a sideways hug.
"I don't want to leave you."
"Haylee, don't do this again; just go. Write me as soon as you can; call me at work if they'll let you."
We hugged so hard, I was trying to disappear into him, but it didn't work.
"I love you."
"I love you too, so much!"
My hand rebelled against opening the door.
"C'mon, Haylee, you gotta do this."
"I can't!"
"You have to."
"I don't."
"Yes, you do."
He waited for five minutes before slamming his hand on the steering wheel and pulling out from the curb. I thought I had convinced him to run away with me, but I was wrong. All I convinced him to do was put his neck even more on the line for me. He peeled into the high school parking lot and jerked the car to a stop in a visitor parking space. He opened and slammed his door shut then came around the car to my side.
"Get out of the car, Haylee; you have to go."
I was hysterical, bawling like a baby and shaking my head, "No!"
He looked around, worried someone would hear and misunderstand. I was holding my backpack to my chest, but when he unlocked and opened the door I grabbed the handle with all my might to stay in. School wasn't scheduled to start for forty-five minutes, so the lot was empty, which was a good thing for us.
"C'mon, Haylee, get out!" he said through gritted teeth.
"No! I'm not going."
He fought me for the door a little longer then stopped and shook his head.
"You're really going to make me do this, aren't you?" Then he turned and walked toward the building. He was going to be the one to turn me in, which meant he would be in trouble, too, for being with me. I couldn't let him do it.
"No! Stop! Fine, I'll go!" I said getting out of the car.
"You mean it?" he shouted as he stopped and turned back to me. He was already halfway to the door.
As I got out, anger, frustration, and confusion were taking over where the sorrow had been. I would not let them see me cry. I was done with the tears.
He came to me, looked around warily, and hugged me.
"I love you," he said putting our foreheads together. "You can do this. Tell me you're OK when you can."
He stayed to make sure I went inside; then I heard him leave. I wanted to go to Mr. Reyes—he would be cool with me, maybe tell me what was going to happen—but his door was locked. I walked into the office, and Mrs. Solis stared at me like I was a ghost. I let myself get mad. I was going to be bold.
"What? I know you guys want me for something; what is it?" I demanded.
"Let me go get Ms. Sipe. You stay right here."
"Not like I can go anywhere! You people screwed up my life!" I threw myself into one of the lobby chairs and hugged my backpack again. My leg shook. I told myself to be mad, not sad, and it mostly worked.
The day was complex, confusing, and slow all at the same time. I could tell I was a headache to every single adult I met that day. Ms. Sipe was on the phone, off the phone, having me sit in the conference room, then the lobby when there was a meeting. Mrs. Solis kept calling and calling and leaving messages for Clara Pike, who must have been the person in charge of me now. She tried to make it sound all cool, but I could tell she was frustrated and tired of being my babysitter.
"I can go to class."
"No, no, you need to stay right here while we figure things out."
"What things? I'm here now; I'm not going to go anywhere."
"No, Haylee, you're fine. Just wait."
Wait, wait, wait. Justin wanted me to wait; teachers wanted me to wait. I hated waiting, and it was all anyone ever wanted me to do. I cursed that word. Then I cursed my age. My whole life was about that word and my being too young to defend myself or be with who I wanted to be with or make grown-up decisions. I swore then I would never let anyone tell me what to do again—not Clayton, not Justin, not anyone.
Finally, halfway through third period, Clara Pike made her appearance. Whether she recognized me or not, I do not know, but as soon as I saw her I remembered her from the car the day before.
"Well hi there, Missy. You're a tough one to track down, you know that?" Her smile suited her pixie cut auburn hair well, but I didn't fall for the pleasantries. She was attempting to be courteous. I had no interest in returning it.
"Well, I'm here now." I shrugged, crossing my arms like I didn't care, even though my heart was racing like crazy. I was so afraid of what was next. I wanted to ask her what she knew, but I didn't want her to think I needed her.
"Well, we've got a lot of things to figure out." She smiled.
"I'm not going back to Clayton's; you can't make me."
"No, dear, he isn't your guardian. That sounds like a good thing for you, but it complicates matters. How about you come with me and we talk about it over lunch?"
Clara checked me out of the school. I tried to be tough, I really did, but they weren't mean like Clayton or my mom; they were all being so nice—even Sipe, for once. I couldn't help the tears that rolled down my cheeks, but I tried to wipe them as inconspicuously as possible as soon as they rolled out.
Before we left, Mr. Reyes found me. That was when I lost it. I'm not sure why—maybe he was the closest thing to a real dad I'd ever had—but I crumbled into his chest and cried and cried all over again. He held me and promised, like all of them, that it would be OK. Just like Justin, he gave me a book, The Diary of Anne Frank, and inside was his personal address and phone number, along with twenty bucks and a little note that read:
I know things are hard right now. I wish I could make it better for you and Justin.
Have hope things will get better now and life will give you a break for once. And
remember your old JAG teacher and check in with me when you're settled
and life is good. Be one of the ones who makes it, Haylee. I know you can be!
Mr. Reyes
After that, Clara took me to Jack-in-the-Box for lunch. I tried to see Justin at Treadmore's when we drove past it. If I had known I would never go back to Serrano I would have left my school books, but I didn't, so I kept them with me. They made me feel a shred of normalcy, and I cried again when I had to let them go a week and a half later when we all knew I was changing schools.
The state had a hard time placing me because of my "unique circumstances," Clara said. I knew what she really meant was that no one wanted me. A week later I called Justin's work from the third house they put me at.
Clara saw me or talked to me almost every day at the first two houses because it was made very clear they didn't want me for a long time, and she was afraid I would run away. It was called emergency shelter; they let me stay there while they found a permanent solution. The lady at the first house deloused me like I was some slum kid, washing all my clothes five times, or so it seemed. Then she took me to a doctor up the street where they asked me fifty million questions about the drugs I did and the people I slept with. I told them I didn't do any drugs or sleep around.
I hate how no one believed I was a virgin. It was like just because I was a "bad kid" with a bad history I was supposed to be a slut too. They were all pleasantly surprised when the pregnancy test came back negative. I told them where they could go.
Clara kept me so busy that first week answering questions, visiting specialists, and going shopping that I didn't have time to call Justin earlier, or I would have tried to.
My first set of "permanent" foster parents were Brad and Kaylee. Clara told me they would keep me until we figured out a permanent solution. When I asked what that meant, she said the state would find me a "forever home"—in other words, Brad and Kaylee didn't want me either but were willing to put up with me for a little bit.
I was going to start school in Chino the next week, which was dumb because there were only a couple months of school left anyway. I was smart enough to know that the classes I took wouldn't count for anything. I wouldn't be there long enough to get full credit, and I sure wasn't going to do extra work to get the credit. Clayton always said school was state-funded daycare, that's another thing he was right about.
Brad and Kaylee were OK, except they looked at me with pity like everyone else did, and had annoying little kids. Even though I had been to a doctor with the other lady, Kaylee made me go to another one the second day I was there. I told her I just went, and she said she believed me but it was the state's rule. I said it was dumb, and she agreed with a chuckle but scheduled the appointment anyway. She told me about some of the things the state made them do for me, like schedule appointments for the dentist and counseling.
"I don't need any counseling."
"Well, maybe you do, maybe you don't, but we have to take you."
I was glad about the dentist though; for the first time in years my tooth didn't hurt me. I didn't even know how much it bothered me until it was fixed. That was nice.
They let me call Justin.
"Hi," I said when he came to the phone. Coffee had asked if it was me and I didn't know what to say, so I answered truthfully. It worked: he let me talk to him.
"Hey. So where are you?"
"Some house in Chino."
"Whoa, you're in Chino?!"
"Yeah, but not by the museum; it's some neighborhood."
"How do you like it?"
"It's whatever. They have a baby who cries all the time, but other than that it's OK. I'm starting school next week."
"Why all the way in Chino?" he made the mistake of asking.
"'Cause I'm a freaking teenager with problems, Justin. No one wants me."
"But they do, right?"
"No, not even. They're totally in it for the money. They're letting me stay until the state can find someone who actually wants me. Could be a long time."
"I don't understand."
"I'm an orphan, Justin. I have no parents. No one wants me."
I wanted to cry, but instead I hid my feelings under a cover of apathy. If I didn't care, I didn't have to feel sad or get mad.
"I'm so sorry."
"Really? What did you think was going to happen?"
"What about your aunt?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Your Aunt Aerin, the one who came to your mom's funeral. Can't she take you?"
"I don't know. I guess not; she hasn't so far."
"But does she know? Are they looking for her? Ask, Haylee. Ask them if they're looking for her. Do you remember where she lived?"
"No, I didn't talk to her, remember?"
"I did. It was in Washington State, I'm sure of it."
"I don't know, and I don't care. I just wanted to call you so you didn't worry."
"Cool. I'm getting a phone next week; the guy is coming out on Tuesday. I have to take the whole morning off—stupid tech can't tell me when he's going to be there; they just gave me a time window."
"Yeah, sounds dumb."
"I'll let you know as soon as I have a number. Will you write me?" he asked.
"Sure."
"You haven't yet."
"I've been busy," I lied. The truth was I was still too mad to say anything to him, even though I missed him.
"Can I write you?"
"I don't care."
"What's the address?"
"I don't know, let me check." I put the phone down and asked Kaylee for the address, but she said they didn't want me giving it out.
"Whatever," I said. Nothing worked out for me; why would they let Justin write me?
I picked up the phone again. "She said no."
"Who did?"
"Kaylee, the lady I live with."
"Well, write me at least, OK?"
"Sure."
"Haylee . . . " Justin knew me better than anyone; he knew I'd given up.
"What?"
"Hold on, OK? It's gotta get better."
"Sure. Look, I gotta go. She wants me off the phone," I lied again. I knew I was going to cry if I stayed on the phone with him. I refused to cry anymore.
When I hung up, I took out my frustration on Kaylee.
"How come you won't let me give him the address? All he wants to do is write; he's not going to come and take me."
"We've been told you're not supposed to talk to that boy."
"Looks like I just did. He didn't call me; I called him. I want to talk to him. There's nothing wrong with that."
"Honey, we can't let you . . . "
"Don't call me 'Honey,' OK?"
After that I sequestered myself in the room they let me share with their little girl. It was decorated for a preschool princess. I was not home. I lay in the bed and faced the wall, but I didn't cry. That's pretty much what I did at their house until I went back to school at a new high school the next Monday.