20. Summer
Summer
Ilet them take me to the hospital. Of course I did. I had nowhere else to go and returning home wasn’t an option. As long as my father is still around, I can never go back.
Two officers came to my room to document my injuries. A female officer and a male officer, both extremely professional and careful with their words. They asked me to lift my hospital gown so they could photograph the injuries across my ribs and torso for evidence.
I stared at the water stain on the ceiling and let them, answering question after question.
Standing before strangers with cameras and clipboards as they cataloged my body was the most exposed I’ve ever felt. Knowing those images would sit in a file somewhere felt demoralizing.
I was discharged with two broken ribs and a constellation of bruises. The airway swelling didn’t start until after I’d finished a round of X-rays. A nurse told me I was lucky it only lasted a few hours.
Lucky. What a stupid word. My father tried to strangle me. But at least I was lucky.
Rhonda, Addie, and Joanna arrived at Orange Bay Community Hospital shortly after I did. I hadn’t thought to grab my cell when the paramedics arrived—I could barely think straight. Addie’s number was the only one I knew by heart.
I didn’t have my medical card either. Fortunately, the hospital was able to pull my records from my previous tonsillectomy back in 2007, which saved me from having to explain myself twice.
What it couldn’t save me from was the receptionists expression when she confirmed I had no health insurance—her eyes moved over my discolored cheek and the redness at my throat with barely concealed pity.
Apparently, my father cut me off the day after I turned eighteen. Just when I thought he couldn’t sink any lower. His parting gift is a soul-crushing hospital bill. Thanks, asshole.
Rhonda insisted on covering the cost of my overnight stay.
“Absolutely not,” she said when I tried to refuse.
“We have the money and I want to pay. I’m not arguing with you on this.
You’ll only lose.” Addie and Joanna stood by her side, arms folded over their chests, brows raised as if daring me to challenge their mother.
I still tried, but she’d already handed over her credit card.
They wanted me to stay in the hospital until I was fully healed, but I had to get out of there. I couldn’t stomach the pitying looks from nurses.
The entire process has been humiliating. I saw the way the neighbors stared and whispered to each other as I climbed into the ambulance. By now I’m sure the whole town knows that poor little Summer Hayes was taken away in an ambulance.
I’m also sure my father will do whatever he can to protect his image.
He’ll lie through his bourbon-stained teeth.
Douglas Hayes? Beating his daughter? Surely, he would never. A widower. A man of God. He attends mass every weekend. Everyone likes Doug.
It’s exactly why I didn’t want anyone to find out. Once this goes public, it’s no longer mine. My pain doesn’t exist for someone else’s consumption. It belongs to me, and it isn’t anyone else’s goddamn business.
Rhonda’s been in touch with the police. I don’t have any money to pay for legal representation. And as I suspected, my father was eligible to be released on bail after just twenty-four hours. The police wouldn’t tell Rhonda who posted the bond, but they didn’t need to. I know it was Uncle Phil.
We’re back at Addie’s house, and I need to clean myself up. Large splotches of red, yellow, blue, and purple stretch across my torso like a map.
My eyes snap to my reflection in Addie and Joanna’s bathroom mirror, and what stares back at me isn’t much of an improvement from yesterday.
My eyes are sunken, dark, and tired. A scab has formed over my lip, splitting whenever I eat or speak.
My jaw is swollen and tender. This is the worst it’s ever been.
I barely recognize myself. I’m as ugly on the outside as I feel on the inside.
My thoughts drift to Mom’s piano. Her guitar. And all the hours I spent writing songs I’ll probably never play again because I stupidly left the sheet music behind.
Every time I sat down to play, I was reminded that a love like my mom’s is the kind that never really leaves you. Whenever the grief of losing her became too much, my fingers would pluck the strings of my acoustic or float over the ivory and black keys, and I felt closer to her.
Now that connection’s gone.
I take a deep breath, counting to four before releasing it.
Twisting the shower tap on, I wait for the water to heat, then step under the spray. Pain slices up my side with every movement, but I scrub until my skin burns. No matter how hard I try, I can’t wash away the feel of his grubby, heavy hands.
The dried blood from my temples stains the water red as it runs down the drain, along with whatever dignity I had left. I shampoo my hair, massaging the bubbly lather in slow circles, ensuring every inch of me is cleaned. I breathe in, letting the peppermint scent soothe me.
I step out and wrap myself in a fluffy towel. Slapping my palms on the bathroom counter, I hang my head.
The moment I step outside this bathroom, everything changes.
I may legally be an adult, but my age won’t protect me from my father.
The thought of crossing paths with him turns my stomach.
I’ll spend every day on edge, one eye open, always watching my back.
I will never feel safe here. If I’m in Ocean Grove, I’m at risk.
I’ve run through possible scenarios over and over. I have no money. I can’t keep working at the diner because he’ll find me. I don’t have a car. I don’t have college to fall back on. I don’t know where I’m supposed to go from here.
I borrowed Addie’s laptop to start searching.
I found a few shelters and housing support for victims of domestic violence.
Most of them only offer temporary stays.
Transitional housing is an option, but I’d need to go through a domestic violence advocate.
Rhonda nearly had a heart attack when I told her I was considering applying.
Then I moved onto share homes. Living with strangers isn’t exactly how I’d imagined going out into the world on my own. I’d much rather keep my privacy, but maybe rooming with other girls my age wouldn’t be too bad.
I’m drumming my fingertips over the stone, racking my brain, when a knock causes me to jump.
“Sum,” Addie’s voice filters through the door. “Can I come in?”
“One second,” I reply, trying not to flinch, and my fingers cover my throat. My esophagus feels like it’s lined with sandpaper. I secure the towel over my chest. “Come in.”
The door swings open to reveal Addie with something neatly folded in her hands. Her eyes snag on my bare décolletage and she swallows thickly.
I clutch the towel tighter.
“Mom washed this for you. I thought you might want to wear it now,” she says.
Chase’s T-shirt. My eyes sting with tears I refuse to let fall. They don’t do me any good.
I reach for the shirt and shoot her a grateful smile. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it,” she says, twisting her lips. “Do you need anything else?”
“No, this is fine. Thanks.”
She’s quiet. I don’t like it. We’re never quiet around each other.
“Please don’t feel sorry for me,” I croak. “You’ve gone all weird and soft.”
She steps forward, pulling me in for a hug. My ribs scream and I wince.
“Oh!” She squeaks, stepping away, but I pull her back tightly. The comfort she provides is worth the pain.
“I’m so sorry I didn’t know,” she whispers. “I hate myself. I should have noticed the signs and I didn’t. I’m … I’m a terrible friend.”
“No, you’re not,” I say, running my hand up and down her spine. “You’re an amazing friend. You haven’t done anything wrong. Ever.”
“I should have known.”
“I didn’t want you to, Adds.” It comes out hoarse.
“Still …” Her eyes softly close and a single tear falls down her cheek as she pulls back. She smacks it away. “You know I love you, right?”
I take her hand in mine, squeezing three times. “I love you too.”
She chuckles. “I was supposed to come in here and cheer you up. I really want to be here for you. You mean everything to me.”
“You have cheered me up,” I say, hoping she can hear the truth in it.
Her mouth twitches for a millisecond. She clears her throat. “Shitmore tried calling again. I didn’t answer so he sent another text.”
Chase started blowing up Addie’s phone when he figured out I’d left mine.
My throat tightens. “I’m sorry.”
“I swear to God, if you apologize one more time, I’m going to scream.
It’s all I’ve heard from you the past twenty-four hours.
” She runs a thumb over my knuckles. “You’re my best friend.
Chase blowing up my phone isn’t even in the top fifty inconveniences I’d endure for you.
How could I ever be mad at someone for loving and caring about you? ”
I release her hand to twist my damp hair over one shoulder. “What did he say?”
“He asked to see you.” I open my mouth to respond, but Addie beats me to it. “Don’t worry. I told him you were resting … he really cares about you, Sum.”
“I don’t think I can face him,” I admit.
She grins but it doesn’t reach her eyes. “You need some time.”
I tell her the truth. “I don’t have time … I can’t stay here anymore, Adds. I need to get out.”
As the words leave my mouth, I realize it’s not just about my father. It’s all of it. This town. These people. They all talk. I see it at every shift at the diner.
I don’t want people who have known me—known my mother—my whole life to look at me differently. Every memory I’ve ever made here will be stained with his shadow.
There’s nothing here for me anymore. Ocean Grove isn’t worth fighting for.
Even if the boy I love—the boy who broke my trust—is.
“I know you need to leave,” she says, her voice small. She falls silent, chewing her lip.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I was talking to my Mom last night …”
“And?”
“Okay.” She raises her hands. “Now, don’t be mad—”
“Oh God,” I splutter. “You told them about us mooning Mr. Ascott after graduation, didn’t you?”
“What?” She reels back. “No! I was talking to her about leaving Ocean Grove. Together.”
My brows knit. “Huh?”
“I’ll defer college and go with you.” She says it like she’s commenting on the weather.
I blink. “Come again?”
“I don’t have to go to Harvard right away. I can defer a year. It’ll buy you some time, and who knows? It could be an adventure.”
I stare at her wordlessly. She waves a hand in front of me. “Is that a yes?”
“That’s a definite no.” Addie opens her mouth to speak, but I stop her. “No, no, no. This is exactly why I didn’t tell anyone! You’re not changing any plans because of me. This is Harvard, Addie. You worked your ass off for this. I won’t let you throw it all away.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m not throwing it away. Mom agreed. She even offered to help us with rent and—”
“Addie.” I grip her shoulders and give her a sad smile. “It’s a really sweet idea. But I can’t let you do that. You and Rhonda have already done more than enough.”
“She loves you. We all do. You’re like a second daughter to her.”
“She has a second daughter,” I deadpan. “Joanna.”
She flicks a hand in the air. “She doesn’t count.”
I shoot her an incredulous look. “Addie—”
She cuts me off. “No! Seriously, hear me out.” Her face lights up. “It would be so much fun! Cody will be at UCLA, and we can start over in a brand-new city. We’ll party together, make new friends …” Her eyebrows wiggle. “Meet new boys.”
My chest caves in at the thought of meeting new boys. I don’t want to meet anyone new. I’ve only ever wanted Chase. I still only want Chase, which is partly why I’m so mad at him.
“You’ve been talking about college since we were in middle school. Living in a dorm, going to parties, football games, eating two-minute noodles,” I counter.
“I would much rather live with you. Imagine if I caught a fungal infection from the showers. Or was stuck sharing a dorm with a total weirdo,” she babbles on. “Oh! My cousin told me she had a friend who walked in on her roommate sniffing her panties. Her dirty panties. Could you imagine? I’d die.”
“How do you know I won’t smell yours?” I ask, cocking a brow.
“Ew!” Her nose crinkles and we dissolve into laughter. It turns into wheezing. Pain flares sharp and sudden. I glide my palm over my throat in a soothing motion.
Addie rubs my back. “I’m sorry. That must hurt, huh?”
I try to pour everything I can’t put into words into a look. I’m so grateful for you.
The idea of making new memories with my best friend is far more appealing than disappearing to a new city where I’d be completely alone. I’d get to see Rhonda and Joanna when they visited, and I wouldn’t have to start from scratch.
But then I think of Addie and what that would mean for her.
She spent months poring over textbooks and sacrificing free time to graduate high school with a 3.
8 GPA. She dragged me to the college fair and spent almost an hour at the Harvard booth.
She’s made Pinterest and manifestation boards.
Addison Walker has drive and ambition, and I won’t let her throw that all away, even if it’s only for a year.
She’s earned her right to live out her dream.
When the laughter fades, my smile wavers. My voice scrapes out of me. “As much as I’d love to spend a year working and having fun with you, I can’t let you do this. You’ve worked your butt off to get into Harvard. I love you too much to let you do that … I’m sorry.”
Tears brim her lash line. “But I don’t want you to go,” she whispers.
“It’s life, Adds. Everyone will be leaving for college come late summer.” I lift a shoulder. “I’m just getting a head start.”
She pulls me in for another hug. “Promise me you won’t give up on your music.”
“I promise,” I whisper.
When Addie closes the door behind her, I change into Chase’s shirt.
His smell has faded from the fabric, replaced with laundry detergent, and something in my chest splinters.
I don’t know if I’m angry because he went against his word and destroyed my plans—destroyed us—or because this shirt is the only comfort I have left.
I fist the material and press it to my nose, anyway.
Whichever it is, I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to forgive him.