Free A Girl Called Fearless by Catherine Linka Page A

hurtling toward me. My first meeting with Hawkins was Saturday.
    â€œI have to think about this.”
    Yates nodded. “I know. It’s a big decision, so I want you to call me. I’ll answer any questions about Exodus you have. You got the phone, right?”
    I waved it at him through the grate.
    â€œIt works even though the screen is busted,” he said. “And there aren’t any patriarchal controls. I’m on the contact list under AP.”
    â€œAP?”
    â€œAntsy Pantsy.”
    I smiled. “Mom’s nickname for you.”
    â€œI figured if Roik ever found the phone he wouldn’t know that name.”
    The front door of the church creaked open, and I heard men talking. Roik and another guard.
    Yates turned toward their voices. “You’re stronger than you realize, Fearless.”
    My heart pinched. I wanted to stay, but the voices were getting closer. “Roik’s looking for me.”
    Yates dropped his voice. “I’m done at work around ten and back at my apartment by ten-thirty,” he said. “So if you want to talk—”
    Footsteps passed a few feet away. I nodded, and Yates sat back and disappeared into the dark.
    I slipped into a pew and pretended to say penance, but my head was spinning, trying to take it all in: Yates. Father G. Exodus.
    If I had the guts to run, Yates would help get me out.

19
    The house was silent and dark before I brought the phone out. The screen burst bright and I closed myself in my closet. I scrolled down. There were definitely no patriarchal controls. News, politics, condoms, gambling. Anything a man could want was right here at my fingertips.
    And for the first time in my life, I had unlimited phone access. I shot down the contacts list and found AP. I had to be careful. If we got caught, they’d come down on Yates harder than me. Dad would sign me off to Hawkins before even I knew it.
    I heard the connection take. Please let this be Yates, not some crazy.
    â€œAvie?” He sounded like he’d been waiting with his hand on the screen. The cracked screen distorted his face, but I could still see his smile.
    â€œThank God it’s you.”
    â€œSo the phone’s working okay?”
    â€œYeah. Looks like it.”
    â€œExcellent.”
    I was about to ask where he got it, when he grinned and said, “You know what I was thinking about?”
    â€œNo, what?”
    â€œRiding Buddies.”
    â€œOh, I haven’t thought about that in forever.” When Mom volunteered for equine therapy, Yates and I used to go to the stable and help with the kids who had cerebral palsy and Down Syndrome.
    â€œRemember how Bruiser followed you around like a big dog?”
    I smiled, seeing this huge Appaloosa horse plodding after me. “It was the carrots. I’d stuff my pockets.”
    â€œAnd I thought he liked you.”
    â€œThe truth comes out.”
    Dusty scratched at the door, and I let her in. She settled into my lap and I rubbed her tummy.
    â€œI was remembering your mom, too,” Yates said.
    I tensed. It was still hard for me to talk about Mom.
    â€œYour mom was the first person to tell me that people would listen to me, that I could make a difference in someone’s life.”
    â€œYeah, she believed in you. She saw how you helped Matt.” For a year, Yates had held Matt up in the saddle until he could sit up straight and take over the reins.
    â€œYou know he’s applying to Oxy for next year?”
    â€œNo!”
    â€œYeah. He’s got an electric chair, takes him everywhere.”
    â€œYou did it.”
    â€œNo, it was all Matt.” We sat, the quiet tying us together. “Aves, if your mom was here, what would she tell you to do?”
    â€œIf she was here, none of this would be happening.”
    â€œSorry.”
    I breathed in and out, got myself centered. “No, I’m sorry.”
    â€œBut if she could speak to you, what would she