Collapse: The Tale of Waking Marissa Page 15

  Hawke was holding on to his pain, torturing himself over the shame of his past. Why else would he walk away after handing Kirsten the bag? He had to forgive himself and stop running.

  If he didn’t, they had no future.

  She whispered her prayers to God. “Hawke, please. Don’t do this. Don’t let Evan take everything from you.”

  The motion light clicked off and Marissa stood in the dark. Her heart sank. Her hands were nearly frozen and her watery eyes burned in the night air. “Hawke!”

  There was no reply as the echo ceased and the cold air seeped under her coat. She made her way to the stairs and stepped down, latching her hand to the railing. She felt around for a level part of the step and made her way down without hitting the ice.

  The farther she inched down the steep incline, the darker it became. Soon the lights from the lodge disappeared and she was alone.

  She took another step but her foot slipped. Her heart pounded as she wrestled with the railing and pulled herself up. What if someone else was out here? Who knows where she was. There was no telling how far she had descended.

  “Hawke! Answer me. I don’t know where I am. I can’t see.”

  She turned around, hoping to get back up the hill before she fell. She leaned forward and touched each step, hoping her shoes didn’t slide over the ice. When her footing seemed right, she crawled up the steps one at a time. She held to the wooden post and pulled herself up.

  Her hands cramped from the cold. The temperature was below 20°F and still dropping. Marissa heard footsteps and her pulse quickened. “Hawke?”

  There was no reply.

  “Who are you?”

  The steps were in the distance. What if they belonged to a wild animal? “Somebody help me!”

  She tried to stand and run up the hill. One step at a time she leapt up the incline, racing for the peak of the hill. Her foot wobbled as her boot stuck to the ice and slipped out from beneath her. Her body folded, twisting her ankle and slamming her side onto the wood railing.

  The ache from her fall pulsated up her back. “Help!”

  Her pants started to dampen as the snow seeped into the fabric. Marissa tried to move back up but she lost her bearings. Her foot throbbed. “Hawke! I fell.”

  She leaned on her arm and started to whimper.

  The pain and fear overwhelmed her.

  “Missy?”

  The voice came from behind her. “I’m here,” she gasped, “on the steps.”

  A dark image came out from behind the trees. She was scared but was sure it was Hawke. His hands moved in and lifted her from the ground. She flung her arms around his neck and squeezed. “You scared me.”

  He pulled her to him as if those words were too kind. His hold intensified as he trudged up the incline. “We’ve got to get you inside.”

  18 Tantrums

  Kirsten paced inside the lobby as Hawke swung the door open. He rushed Marissa inside and carried her to the nearest couch. The heat felt soothing but her foot stung like it was on fire.

  Kirsten looked at Hawke. “What happened?”

  “She fell down the steps to the pond.”

  Her voice rose. “What were you guys doing down there? It’s pitch black this time of night.”

  “I’ll explain that later,” he barked. “I think she twisted her ankle.”

  Marissa winced as she pushed herself up. “I hit my back on the railing.”

  “I’ll get some ice.” Kirsten left the room and Hawke sat beside her, removing her boots.

  “This may hurt.”

  She leaned back as he pulled her foot out of the wet shoe. Her damp sock was peeled back and he pushed against her foot. “Is it tight? Does it pinch?”

  Marissa whimpered and nodded. “Yes. It burns.”

  His stare was vacant and hard. “This is my fault. I shouldn’t have left you up there.”

  Marissa smiled even though she ached. “It’s not your fault. I should have given you some space.”

  His head sank to his hands. “Everything is unraveling and I can’t stop it.”

  “What do you mean by that?”

  He turned away.

  She leaned forward and brushed his bangs out of the way. “I’m not going anywhere, Hawke. If you need a friend, that’s what I will be.”

  He gripped her hand. “You’ll always be more than a friend to me. You know that.”

  She smiled too. Their hearts were ravaged yet beautiful. She had never felt so exposed and connected.

  “I’d feel better if you told me what happened. How did you start fighting with Evan?”

  Hawke looked away. “This is a mess.”

  “Hawke, just tell me.”

  He sat back and raked his hands through his hair. “He caught me outside the Little Lodge.”

  “But why?”

  Hawke wiped his hands over his face. “There’s something I haven’t told you. It’s a big something. And now is not the time. You need to trust me to tell you after this trip. When the air clears a little more.”

  “Okay. I trust you.”

  The room grew silent and Hawke stared into the flames. Marissa wondered what could possibly be so bad that he had distanced himself from her.

  As the fire danced before them, Hawke picked up the stoker and jabbed it into the logs. “Evan saw the flower I gave Stephanie. He thought I wanted her back, I guess.”

  Marissa swallowed. “So he took a swing at you. Weren’t you just apologizing?”

  “Of course, but that doesn’t matter. He stormed up behind me while I was packing the van.”

  She held his gaze tenderly. It was amazing what some positive eye contact could do. “What did you do?”

  “I tried to talk him out of it, but he was yelling.”

  “And then what?”

  Kirsten threw the door back and hustled toward the patient, taking charge. “Hawke, get her back to our room. We need to look at her back.”

  He eased Marissa into his arms and valiantly swept her up the hall. Kirsten opened the bedroom door and allowed Hawke to come in. “Sit right there until I call you.”

  He steadied Marissa to her feet and Kirsten helped her into the bathroom. With the door closed, Marissa was able to breathe. She had been holding in the pain for some time.

  “It really hurts.”

  Kirsten rolled up her sweater and looked at her ribs. “Does this hurt?”

  “Yes, kind of.”

  “There’s no sign of bruising, but you did scrape yourself pretty bad.” She looked her in the eyes. “Let’s thank God you’re all right.”

  Her attention went to her ankle. “Looks like you sprained it. You’ll need to take it easy for the next day or so. No running around and no steps, you got it?”

  “Got it.”

  Kirsten opened the medicine cabinet and twisted off the peroxide cap. “Now let’s get Hawke in here. I want to take a look at his face.”

  The lumbering giant squeezed into the bathroom. His puppy eyes stayed on Marissa. “You okay?”

  “I’m fine.”

  Kirsten shut the door and yanked the boy onto the toilet seat. Marissa tried not to laugh as Hawke dropped like a sack of potatoes. Kirsten pushed his head closer to the light. “Looks like you’ll have quite a shiner on your cheek, but this minor cut in your hair line is deep.”

  He jerked his head. “What?”

  “You said he only hit you once.”

  “He did.”

  “Hmm.” She kept inspecting the bruise. With a soaked cotton ball she patted the skin above his forehead and worked her way into his hairline.

  “Where is everybody?” Marissa said. “It’s so quiet.”

  “The entire group is on lock down until we can resolve what happened,” Kirsten answered.

  “What about Evan? Did the ambulance come get him?”

  “No. Rod and Corbin drove him there in the utility van. We haven’t heard anything yet.” She dabbed more peroxide on the swab. “I’m sure they’ll need to rese
t his wrist and take some X-rays.”

  “I hope he’s okay.” His voice sounded distraught. “I should have let him hit me, then he wouldn’t have a broken hand.”

  “Don’t blame yourself! This isn’t your fault.” Marissa looked to Kirsten for reinforcement. “And look at what he did to you. He started it.”

  Hawke stayed still as if he wanted that to be the truth.

  “Tell him, Kirsten. Tell him he can’t keep defending Evan. The kid is a bully.”

  Kirsten pulled on Marissa’s shoulder. “It’s been a long night, you two. We can deliberate this when we have all the facts.”

  “Fine. But I know Evan started the fight. Hawke would never jeopardize his parole.” She crossed her arms and looked at the boy. “Am I right?”

  Kirsten applied ointment to her finger. Catching Hawke’s chin, she dabbed the medicine around the bruise. “All that matters is that you three heal. There’s been enough wounds around camp today.”

  “Is that it?” Hawke asked.

  She smiled at him. “That’s it.”

  He cracked his neck and stood up. Three people was more than that bathroom could adequately hold.

  Marissa removed the icepack from her back and handed it to Hawke. “You could use this for your cheek. Otherwise it will swell.”

  He retrieved the towel as if it was some unearned ransom. “Are you going to be all right?”

  His eyes seemed weary as he pressed the towel to his cheek. “I’ll be fine.”

  “That’s not very convincing.”

  He didn’t respond.

  “Hawke.” Kirsten waved from the doorway. “Why don’t you and Marissa take your conversation back out to the meeting room? I think that’s a better place for you to talk.”

  Marissa dug her hands into her back pockets. She could tell he was retreating. Had he only come to her rescue because she was hurting? Was he still upset? What was it with guys and their paranoia with physical disaster and then their complete ignorance when it came to emotional pain? What was he thinking?

  She followed the boy up the hall and back through the meeting room. The lights were dimmed and the silence hung in the air like dirty laundry. So far they’d been able to talk about everything. Why the silence?

  When Hawke refused to speak, she sat close to the fire. The warmth usually slowed her thoughts, giving her a change of perspective. As the heat eased the ache in her back, her thoughts turned to finding a remedy. “Are you all right?’

  His shoulders had tensed as he sat on the floor. “I’m trying.”

  Trying was good. But the world seemed to weigh on him. Marissa watched as his mood changed from one to the next. The silence was one thing, but the physical difference was another.

  Marissa’s thoughts wandered. She wanted to help Hawke, but how? Why was he blaming himself? Why did he take such concern for Evan? Every minute seemed to deepen the silence. Men usually coveted the times when a woman could be quiet and still. But she could not handle the suspense.

  Her leg shook. What was taking so long? If Evan had broken his wrist, Hawke would never let himself off the hook. And why, for the life of her, could Marissa not meet a guy who had an interest in something other than sports?

  The heat from the fire began to settle her. At least she was near Hawke; she’d have to settle for that. At 12:35 a.m. the Little Lodge was filled with a burst of cold air. Corbin and Rod ushered Evan indoors. Marissa pulled her head up off the couch. “Everything alright?”

  Hawke was half asleep in the armchair, the dying embers casting a glow on his restful face. His eyes popped open and he turned to watch the boy go by.

  Corbin returned to the meeting hall with Kirsten by his side. Marissa felt the uneasiness creep into the room -- the same room that had dispelled so many of her fears during the worship time.

  He drew his hands to his forehead and waited. Hawke stiffened and looked away. Marissa’s heart was thumping like a drum. What was happening?

  Corbin took off his coat and sat down beside his wife. He cleared his throat nervously. “I have to ask you some questions, Hawke. It’s just our policy, that’s all.”

  Marissa had no idea what that meant. What policy? Corbin looked at his wife, and then Hawke. “Evan says he saw the drugs in your bag Friday night.”

  “That’s absurd!” Marissa declared. “I was the only one in the room. Evan couldn’t have seen anything.”

  Corbin looked at Marissa. “I’m not saying I believe his story. But we still have to prove no one planted them in his jacket, even if it was to pull a prank.”

  Hawke’s eyes were empty and his voice tired. “What exactly are you asking me? You know I wouldn’t do that.”

  Corbin’s next sentence was more pleading. “Sometimes the innocent are accused.”

  “And by that you mean Evan?” Hawke pulled at the fabric along the armrest. “I really can’t believe you are asking me this.”

  Marissa felt like a dull spoon was scooping out her heart. How could he ask that? Hawke loved Corbin. How could he just accuse him with no evidence? Anyone could have planted the drugs.

  “I need a yes or no answer.”

  Marissa squirmed and her stomach flipped. The drugs weren’t his!

  Hawke tipped his head back. “I did not plant the drugs.”

  Kirsten exhaled. “Thank you, Hawke.”

  Corbin seemed relieved as well. He leaned forward. “Now, do you have any reason to suspect that the drugs belong to Evan?”

  “Yes.”

  Kirsten glanced at her husband. “How do you know that?”

  Hawke took a deep breath. “Because Evan’s a user. I sold to him before the arrest.”

  Corbin ran his fingers over his face. “How long ago? And what did he buy?”

  “It’s been over two years, at least.”

  Apparently Corbin didn’t like the answer. He shot up from his seat, pacing like a caged lion.

  “It started with pot,” Hawke began. I saw him doing small drugs at parties, but then it got worse.”

  As Corbin paced, Hawke relayed the whole story – a story no one knew -- from start to finish. “It started his sophomore year. He’d get high in the weight room once a week with some of the other jocks. Then he tried out for linebacker with the high school team. He stayed straight for two years. But when no one picked him for a scholarship, word was he got back in.”

  Kirsten interjected. “But this is all hearsay. You don’t actually know if he was doing drugs.”

  Hawke looked at Marissa. His gaze was long and forlorn. “I’m sorry you are going to hear about this, but I need to say something.”

  Hawke moved closer to the fire. “Evan and I became close. When the cops started to see drugs move through the school, I offered to cut Evan in on my deals. He ran the product in and out of school property so it threw the heat off me. In return, I scored him free drugs. That’s how I know what he took.”

  “Aw, Hawke,” Kirsten said, starting to cry.

  “When he showed up at church, he came looking for me. He wanted cocaine.”

  Corbin stood still. The news had rattled him.

  “I told him I changed my life and didn’t know where he could go. I urged him to walk away from drugs. But he just scoffed at me.” Hawke hung his head and started to shake. “Then he told me he was the one who set me up. He planted the drugs in my locker because his parents found a stash in his room. He told his parents it was mine and they called the cops.”

  Marissa’s lips began to quiver. “He set you up?”

  He looked at her as though he’d been trying to tell her but he couldn’t. “He took two years of your life away. And you just kept quiet and protected him?”

  Corbin sat down and tapped his hand on his knee. “Hawke, why didn’t you come forward with this before?”

  Hawke sat back and sighed. “Because I did the crime. I was guilty and everyone knows it. How much longer could I have held out before they caught me?”

  “So that’s why he’s bee
n so angry with you. This has nothing to do with Stephanie.” Kirsten’s hands clasped her heart. “He feels guilty.”

  Corbin stood up, furrowing his brows. “Hawke, will he run if we intervene?”

  “He’s got nowhere to run while we’re here. But if you wait until we get back to Chatham, he may never come back to St. Steven’s and it will all be over. You have to break him, now.”

  “I agree.”

  “So what do we do?”

  Marissa interjected. “Talk to Stephanie. She’s been suspicious all along. She told me about this earlier tonight.”

  “Are you sure?”

  She nodded. “I’m sure.”

  Marissa felt relieved but drained. She wanted to tell Hawke that he did the right thing by coming clean. Evan’s behavior was erratic and he needed help. It was best to have him confronted now while the issue was still hot. But the weight of it all was a killer. Every degrading remark, every mean glance, it was all orchestrated to keep the attention off Evan and onto Hawke. And it was all because he was the one with the drug problem.

  19 Solace

  Stephanie’s bunk was covered with magazines, tissues and lollipop wrappers as Kirsten and Marissa tried to convince the girl to assist in the intervention. One by one she kept popping in candy, listing her reasons to refuse. She wouldn’t watch another junkie ruin his life.

  She made a plan to break up with Evan and swear off men for the rest of high school, which was a whole two months. For her it might have been a serious statement, but right now the attention was on Evan and what a mess he was making of his life.

  Brianna sat on the bottom of the bed as Kirsten slowly began to reel Stephanie out of hysteria. “Stephanie, can you look at me? Please honey, we’re not here to force you into anything.”

  Kirsten peeled back the strands of hair that stuck to Stephanie’s face. “Honey, look at me.” She took her hands and pushed them to the bed. “Evan’s not going to be like Hawke.”

  She sat up, tipping forward. “You are just trying to get me to go down there, but I won’t go.”