Free Hurt by Travis Thrasher Page A

you saw her?”
    “Right after Christmas last year.”
    “What happened?”
    “She moved away with her aunt.”
    “And when was the last time you spoke to her aunt?”
    I shake my head. “When they came over to our cabin. Right before they left.”
    Don’t say “disappeared” don’t you dare say that.
    I’m not about to start talking to this lady, who is no FBI agent. She might be from the same place they got Lily.
    I see the empty chairs surrounding the one I’m leaning on. Even now, so long after coming to this school, this place has a cold, lifeless feel to it. This school belongs in a horror movie, not some kid’s life.
    “Your friend said you might not be cooperative.”
    “What else did she tell you?”
    “Enough,” Diane Banks says. “Enough to get me here.”
    Is that even your real name? Couldn’t you be a little more creative with your alias?
    For the next ten minutes, she asks me questions that I barely answer. She soon realizes that she’s not going to get anything. Not from me.
    “Chris, I am here to help.”
    “Jocelyn moved a year ago,” I say. “And now you show up?”
    I say this because whoever she is, I’m wanting her to know the timing sucks.
    You’re too late.
    “It took your friend a while to reach out to us. There are reasons why. And you know them.”
    I have my arms folded and I’m just staring at her, not biting and not flinching.
    “I’m going to be around for a while,” the woman tells me. “I’m staying at the Blackberry B and B.”
    I laugh out loud. “Is that the one close to the downtown of Solitary?”
    “Yes.”
    “For real. You’re staying there.”
    “And what’s wrong with that?” she asks.
    Couldn’t you at least pick a better spot? Maybe somewhere different from where Lily stayed?
    “It’s really the only place in the area,” Ms. “Diane Banks” says.
    “Okay then,” I say.
    “Chris, listen—if there are bad things going on in this town, you need to tell me. You need to let me help you.”
    “I’m fine.”
    She looks at me, but I’m not going to break.
    You don’t know how strong this place is making me.
    “Keep my card. You might need it.”
    “Will do,” I say.

22. About Time
    This week I start something monumental.
    Driver’s ed.
    And it reminds me of how much of a loser I really am. Because I’m surrounded by freshmen and sophomores. You can start taking that class when you’re fourteen and a half.
    Nice.
    I’ll be taking a two-hour after-school class twice a week for seven and a half weeks.
    After those thirty hours of classroom time, which will bring me to the end of March, I’ll need six hours behind the wheel.
    And then and only then will I be able to drive.
    I do the math in my mind as I speed home on my motorcycle from the first class.

23. The Movie I’m In
    That second week in January comes and goes with a strange nothingness. Nobody shows up at the cabin. Nobody calls me to tell me they’re coming home or being abducted. Nothing weird or sinister happens at the cabin, or school, or on the way from my cabin to school.
    Nothing much happens, period.
    Kelsey invites me over to her house on Friday night to watch a movie. I tell her great and request that it not be another Ryan Gosling flick. I can only take so much hunk per month. She laughs and tells me I can choose whatever movie I’d like. I’m not really that interested in watching a movie. I’m just glad to be hanging out with her.
    And glad that I’m not alone in my cabin, listening to the wind outside.
    I get to Kelsey’s around six. It’s already dark out, and I ring the doorbell, wondering who will answer the door. Kelsey greets me and welcomes me inside a house that smells like tomato sauce and pepperoni.
    “We already got the pizza,” she says in a bashful way. “I hope that’s okay.”
    “Yeah. It’s great. Thanks.”
    I’m reminded of past Friday nights back home. Usually I’d be at someone else’s house, hanging out, playing video games,