Free Crush by Laura Susan Johnson Page B

Stacy is here and she has the most idiotic
grin as she says, “Tammybrought you here!”
She’s so happy…The pain in my jaw is becoming
unbearable.
“He chased those fuckers awayand brought you here!” I shrug and turn my face away from her. All I want is for
everyone to leave me alone.
“He said he’s been following you home since you got beaten
up last time! He was worried about you! He told Lloyd not to let you
walk home alone again!” Stacyis so excited it’s sickening. I look up to see myfoster dad smiling at me.
I see it in his eyes…
He knows! He knows I’m in love! He knows I’m in love with
Tammy!
He nods. Winks.
How did I get such a great Dad? Why did God give Lloyd to
me?
I manage a weak smile, willing to reassure him, but I’m too
exhausted and beaten in body to keep it up for more than a few
seconds.
“Here, let me sign your cast,” Stacy says, gingerly adjusting
my arm and using her teeth to pop the lid off a dark blue marker.
Lloyd writes on the cast too.
I’m in the hospital for two days, and several friends from
church and school have come by.
Back home, I finally muster enough interest to read all the
autographs on the graffiti-decked shell holding my mending
bones together:
    Get well, Baby. Don’t let them win. Don’t let them have that power. People who hate you obviously don’t knowyou. I knowyou and love you. Your bestest friend in the world, Stacy
    You’ve been here before, and I know you’ll be okay. Love, Lloyd.
I’ve never called him “Dad.” I feel like an asshole for not calling him that. It’s just that I don’t want call anyone with a good heart, “Dad” or “Daddy.”
Hi Baby, hope you feel better soon! Love Lydia
Miss you, Take care, Deanna
Heal up, Ray.
Baby, get well soon. Sylvie
Babe, I hate those assholes and I hope they get what they deserve. Hurry back, Patti.
Benny, home on a three-day furlough, simply signs his name.
And on the underside, where the cast covers my elbow, in blue, wavychicken scratch, as tiny as the felt tip had allowed, and palpablybashful,
You’re wrong. Everyone does not hate you .
I read it again.And again. I nearlytear myrotator cuff reading it over and over.
I wrack my brain until it hurts, but I can’t remember anyone writing in that spot, and it’s not signed.
Twisting myarm painfully, I ask Stacy, “Who wrote this?!”
“Tam did, while you were asleep.”
I shake myhead. “No…he didn’t.”
“I watched him, Babe.”
“Whydidn’t you wake me up?!” I’m riotous.
She just shrugs. Smiles. “He didn’t want to bother you. He sat beside you and wrote where he could reach.”
He’s been shadowing me.
He’s been worried about me,
He chased those guys away.
He drove me to the hospital.
He cares about me.
And it scares me.
I’d almost rather go on believing he doesn’t know I’m alive.
    After my insults from the second beating heal, there are only a few more weeks before school is out. Now everyone sees the difference, and Stacygentlytells me it’s not a change for the better.
    But it’s my last line of defense. Now I’m just as curt to Tammy as he has been to me whenever we come into contact in anyway. Whenever he and Rayand anyof the other jocks walk up to us to ask us if we want to go to The End or to the mall or to a movie, I always mutter, “Look, Stacy, here comes Tammy and his nerd herd.” I refuse to acknowledge him, turning my face away at everyopportunity.
    I’m decent. I thank him for helping me when I was jumped by those three shitheads (who were expelled bythe way).
But I’m careful. I have to be. The way he’s treated me (especially screaming at me over that stupid soccer ball) has made it arduous for me to dare to open myself to any more hurt. Better to just enjoywhat little I can get.
I’m still in love with him.
I still love the verysight of him.
And I know he cares a little…
At this juncture though, I’ve had enough of the mean looks and the Jeckyl and Hyde mood swings. I can’t let him