Lost in You

but twice. He jerks forward, losing his hold on my throat. I cough hard and move away quickly. I look at him, withering on the floor. He’s bent in half, holding himself.
    “Ryan?”
    I look sharply at my mom. She’s standing there, with a dishrag dangling from her hands, tears streaming down her face. She’s shaking her head, her lower lip trembling. “Dylan’s outside. You should go,” her voice cracks.
    “Mom?”
    “Go, Ryan. Please go before he hurts you even more.”
    I try to speak, but nothing comes out. I nod and run down the hall to my room. My door is already open, my room torn apart. I grab a few pieces of clothing, my phone, money and backpack. I don’t know if I’m coming back here, but I’m hoping to never see his face again. I don’t stop to look at the scene in the living room or even say goodbye to my mother. She allowed this to happen. She allowed him to put his hands on me.
    Dylan is a statue in her car. The usually peppiness is missing. I open the door, she looks at me and we both gasp. Her face is tear-streaked black from her make-up. I can’t imagine what I look like. I get in and barely have the door shut before she’s speeding down the road. We don’t talk. The radio doesn’t play. The tension between us is thick. I can feel it radiating off her. She’s been so vocal about Hadley hurting me that she knew this day was going to come. I just didn’t listen. And I’m not ready to accept that we’re done. I know Hadley did what she had to, to get us out of trouble. I only wish she asked me first.
    I pull out my iPhone and text Hadley, watching the screen while I wait for the message to say it has been delivered or read. But it doesn’t change. I try again and again. The same result each time. I hate doing this in front of Dylan, but I have no choice. I press Hadley’s name. I need to talk to her. I don’t care what that ridiculous piece of paper said. I’d gladly spend the night in jail if it gives me the answers that I need.
    Nothing happens with the call. I try again, nothing. I tap the phone to my head, thinking. Why isn’t my phone working? I shake it and try calling her, nothing. I hit it against my hand, nothing.
    Dylan pulls over, but doesn’t shut off the engine. She stares out the window at the open space. Wheat fields are all you can see. If you look long enough, stare hard enough, the sky touches the never-ending fields. It’s a cool illusion when you’re a kid and you’re out here looking. But looking at it now makes me want to run until I can reach the edge where the two connect and hope there’s something better for me out there.
    “My dad knows his officer hit you. So does my mom. He’s pissed. You know he doesn’t condone violence at the station. She’s upset, angry. They fought and when your mom called she threw the phone at my dad. I don’t know anything else except that Hadley’s gone.”
    “Yeah,” I say, for lack of anything better to add. I’m not sure how to respond or if there’s even a right thing to say.
    “You’re coming back to my house. My dad will apologize and take care of things at the station. I know you made the first move or whatever, but that doesn’t give Daniels the right to hurt you like that. He knows better and for him to hit you…” she trails off, wiping more tears from her cheeks. “Anyway, Mom says you're staying with us.”
    Dylan puts her car in drive and turns back onto the road, heading toward her house. I never expected I’d be staying with her, or that her mom would react the way she did, but to say I’m thankful would be an understatement. Maybe I can leave when I’m eighteen as planned. Take what money I have saved and buy a bus ticket out of here. That was my plan until I met Hadley and now everything has changed.
    Mrs. Ross is standing at the door when we walk in. She takes me in her arms, enveloping me the way a mom should. Dylan joins us and they cry. I don’t understand why they’re both crying. I’m not, but I should be. Maybe this hasn’t sunk in yet, or I need to be away from people. I can feel the ache in my heart getting stronger and know it’s just a matter of time before everything explodes. When she releases us, she pats down my hair, avoiding eye contact. I know she’s staring at my lip. She looks up and smiles as she cups my cheeks.
    “Come you two, I made brownies.”
    Dylan pushes my shoulder to get my feet moving. The smell of freshly baked brownies makes my stomach growl.