Морган Райс - Turned

“Oh my god,” she said, feeling terrible at the sight. She knew she should at least feel good about having helped him, about sparing him more damage. But instead she felt bad for not being there sooner, for not coming back for him. But after… it had happened, it had all been a blur. She couldn’t really remember how she’d even gotten home. “I’m so sorry.”

“Did you hear how it happened?” he asked.

He looked at her intently, with his bright green eyes, and she felt he was testing her. As if he was trying to get her to admit that she was there.

Had he seen her? He couldn’t have. He was out cold. Or was he? Did he maybe see what happened afterwards? Should she admit that she had been there?

On the one hand, she was dying to tell him how she had helped him, to win his approval, and his gratitude. On the other, there was no way she could explain what she did without seeming like either a liar or some kind of freak.

No , she concluded internally. You can’t tell him . You can’t.

“No,” she lied. “I don’t really know anyone here, remember?”

He paused.

“I got jumped,” he said. “Walking home from school.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said again. She sounded like an idiot, repeating the same stupid phrase, but she didn’t want to say anything that would give too much away.

“Yeah, my Dad’s pretty pissed,” he continued. “They got my viola.”

“That sucks,” she said. “Will he get you a new one?”

Jonah shook his head slowly. “He said no. He can’t afford it. And that I should have been more careful with it.”

Concern crossed Caitlin’s face. “But I thought you said that was your ticket out?”

He shrugged.

“What will you do?” she asked.

“I don’t know.”

“Maybe the cops will find it,” she said. She remembered, of course, that it was broken, but she thought that by saying this, it would help prove to him that she didn’t know.

He looked her over carefully, as if trying to judge if she were lying.

Finally, he said, “They smashed it.” He paused. “Some people just feel the need to destroy other peoples’ stuff, I guess.”

“Oh my god,” she said, trying her best not to reveal anything, “that’s horrible.”

“My Dad’s pissed at me that I didn’t fight back….But that’s not who I am.”

“What jerks. Maybe the cops will catch them,” she said.

A small grin passed Jonah’s face. “That’s the weird thing. They already got theirs.”

“What do you mean?” she asked, trying to sound convincing.

“I found these guys down the alley, right after. They were beat down worse than me. Not even moving.” His grin widened. “Someone got to them. I guess there is a God.”

“That’s so strange,” she said.

“Maybe I have a guardian angel,” he said, looking her over closely.

“Maybe,” she answered.

He stared at her for a long time, as if waiting for her to volunteer something, to hint at something. But she didn’t.

“And there was something even stranger than all that,” he said, finally.

He reached down and pulled something out of his backpack, and held it out.

“I found this.”

She stared down in shock. It was her journal.

She felt her cheeks redden as she took it, both delighted to have it back and horrified that he had this piece of evidence that she was there. He must know for sure now that she was lying.

“It has your name in it. It is yours, right?”

She nodded, surveying it. It was all there. She had forgotten about it.

“There were some loose pages. I gathered them all up and put them back in. I hope I got them all,” he said.

“You did,” she said softly, touched, embarrassed.

“I followed the trail of pages, and the funny thing is….they lead me down the alley.”

She continued to look down at the book, refusing to make eye contact.

“How do you suppose your journal got there?” he asked.

She looked him in the eye, doing her best to keep a straight face.

“I was walking home last night, and I lost it somewhere. Maybe they found it.”

He studied her.

Finally, he said, “Maybe.”

They stood there, in silence.

“The weirdest thing of all,” he continued, “is that, before I went completely unconscious, I could have sworn I saw you there, standing over me, yelling at those guys to leave me alone….Isn’t that crazy?”

He studied her, and she looked him back, straight in the eye.

“I’d have to be pretty crazy to do a thing like that,” she said. Despite herself, a small smile started at the corner of her mouth.

He paused, then broke into a wide grin.

“Yes,” he answered, “you would.”

Caitlin was on cloud nine as she walked home from school, clutching her journal. She hadn’t been this happy in she didn’t know when. Jonah’s words replayed in her head.

“ There’s this concert tonight. At Carnegie Hall. I’ve got two free tickets. They’re the worst seats in the house, but the vocalist is supposed to be amazing.”

“ Are you asking me out?” she’d said, smiling.

He’d smiled back.

“ If you don’t mind going with this lump of bruises,” he’d said, smiling back. “After all, it is Friday night.”

She practically skipped home, unable to contain her excitement. She didn’t know anything about classical music—she’d never even really listened to it before—but she didn’t care. She’d go anywhere with him.

Carnegie Hall. He said the dress was fancy. What would she wear? She checked her watch. She wouldn’t have much time to change if she was going to meet him at that café before the concert. She doubled her pace.

Before she knew it, she was home, and even the dreariness of her building didn’t bring her down. She bounded up the five flights of stairs and hardly even felt it as she walked into her new apartment.

Her Mom’s scream came right away: “You fucking bitch!”

Caitlin ducked just in time, as her Mom threw a book right at her face. It went flying past her, and smashed into the wall.

Before Caitlin could speak, her Mom charged—fingernails out, aiming right for her face.

Caitlin reached up and caught her wrists just in time. She tangled with her, going back and forth.

Caitlin could feel her newfound power surging through her veins, and she felt that she could throw her Mom across the room without even trying. But she willed herself to control it, and she shoved her off, but only hard enough to send her onto the couch.

Her Mom, on the couch, suddenly broke into tears. She sat there, sobbing.

“It’s your fault!” she screamed between her sobs.

“What’s wrong with you?” Caitlin screamed back, completely off guard, having no idea what was going on. Even for her Mom, this was crazy behavior.

“ Sam .”

Her Mom held out a piece of notebook paper.

Caitlin’s heart pounded as she took it, a feeling of dread washing over her. Whatever it was, she knew it couldn’t be good.

“He’s gone!”

Caitlin scanned the handwritten note. She couldn’t really concentrate as she read, only picking out fragments— running away…don’t want to be here…back with my friends…don’t try to find me .

Her hands were shaking. Sam had done it. He’d really left. And he didn’t even wait for her. Didn’t even wait to say goodbye.

“It’s because of you !” her Mom spat.

A part of Caitlin couldn’t believe it. She ran through the apartment, opened Sam’s door, half expecting to find him there.