A Penny on the Tracks by Alicia Joseph

Author:Alicia Joseph
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: YOUNG ADULT FICTION/ Coming of Age; YOUNG ADULT FICTION/ LGBT
Publisher: Bedazzled Ink Publishing
Published: 2017-10-07T04:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eleven

ABBEY AND I were sitting on our buckets in my garage. The radio sat only a couple feet away from us, but nothing inside me wanted to turn it on. I was sure Abbey felt the same.

“I heard my mom talking on the phone last night,” I said. “She thought I was sleeping, but I was listening. She saw Derek at the hospital. She said he killed himself. Jumped right in front of the train. Our train.”

Abbey started crying. “Why would he do that?”

For a second, I considered not telling her everything I knew, but decided against it. He was both our friend, and he died at our Hideout. We were in this together. “You know all those cuts and bruises on his face?”

Abbey nodded.

“It wasn’t from fights with other kids. His step-dad was beating him, and beating him good. Ever wonder why Derek always wore a jean jacket even when it was hot? It wasn’t to look cool like we thought. He was hiding scars.”

Abbey’s shoulder slumped lower and she brushed her hands over face. “He told me his step-dad drinks.” Her muffled words cut through her tears.

“When?”

“The day after my mom was really drunk and was asking all those embarrassing questions about Franklin. You were off walkin’ on the tracks, and Derek and I were alone. I must have looked sad cuz he asked me what was wrong. I told him about my mom. He said he understood. That’s when he told me his step-dad drinks, too. But I didn’t know about the beatings. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to wonder if he had it worse than I did.”

I remembered that day. It was the day I saw Derek put his arm around Abbey. “I really believed he was getting into all those fights. I never doubted it. He . . .”

“Looked like someone who would get into a lot of fights,” Abbey finished.

I shrugged. “I guess so, but if we really stopped to think about it, we would’ve known something was off. Derek was too nice to us to think he could be so violent. Do you think Carson would ever have been as nice to us?”

Carson was a boy who lived down my street. He was in high school and was a complete asshole. One day, I had fallen off my bike right in front of his house while popping a wheelie. I cut the side of my head really bad. Blood gushed down my face and into my eyes. I couldn’t see a thing, but I heard Carson snorting in laughter. When I smeared the blood from my eyes with my sleeve, I saw Carson standing on his porch, pointing and laughing. He shouted out to a friend inside the house to come outside.

I rushed to my feet. I didn’t want another person laughing at me. Ignoring the throbbing sensation against my forehead that felt like a hot heartbeat, I jumped on my bike and pedaled as fast as my half-blinded, blood-in-my-eyes sight would allow.

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