Katy Rose's Story

I felt the rough bark of a broad leaf oak pressing into my back as I made a shade for my eyes with one hand and followed the boy’s movements as he skirted a red-haired boy. The tall guy with the dark hair caught my attention, a show off in the Bellville, Texas. Some things are the same no matter where you are. I wiped the sweat off my forehead, wondering how he could stand darting back and forth in this heat. Was that strip hanging from his waist really so important?

At my cell’s text ping, I picked up my phone and smiled. Julie. With a wish you were here, followed by a description of the usual 4th of July plans. Swim at Longview lake, picnic together and then watch fireworks. Gosh, she missed them. She swallowed and blinked against the burn in her eyes. How could life move on so easily for her friends in Kansas City, while she felt stuck, drowning in homesickness? Now my closest friend is my paperbound copy of the Remnant Chronicles. When could she get another? Grandfather didn’t even have internet. A sigh forced its way from her lungs. At least he’d let her keep her phone.

Katy picked up the book laying by her thigh and thumbed to her place, eager to go to the imaginary kingdom. At the precise moment Rafe whispered in Lia’s ear, a body thumped to the ground beside her. She pressed the book to her chest, her heart skipping a beat. Her gaze darted to the boy sprawled beside her. Annoyance bubbled in her stomach. “Um, there are plenty of trees in this park. Can’t you find your own?”

His brown eyes rounded for a second before he burst into laughter. “I’m Blake Lightfeather. I was sure I’d seen all the pretty girls in town, but somehow I missed you.”

Jerk. Who did he think he was? He interrupted Lia and Rafe’s potential kiss to spring a line on me? Besides, his hot, stinking boy body is too close. She stuck her phone into her purse, brushed dirt off her calf, and stacked her books. Tucking one foot beneath her, she rose. He jumped to his feet.

“Don’t leave. I’ve seen you here and at the pool a few times and wanted to say hi. Will you go to Bellville High this fall? I hope you’re not a senior ‘cause I’d hate it if you were older than me.”

Seriously? She narrowed her eyes and bit back a groan. Okay, so maybe meeting new people was universally awkward. She held out her hand. “I’m Katy Rose. I moved here a few weeks ago.”

Blake gripped her hand, his long fingers all but making hers disappear. “Nice to meet you, Katy Rose. Senior?”

“No. A freshman this fall.” Her cheeks warmed. Was this guy blind? “What about you?” Heat flooded her face as her words stumbled out, while her irritation warred with the faintest flicker of curiosity.

“Junior.”

Blake pulled a paper and pencil from his billfold and scribbled something. “I’ve got to run or I’ll miss my ride. The Fourth is a big deal. You should come hang out.” He grinned as though the suggestion was the most natural thing in the world.

He held out the paper. “Here’s my number. Call me if you ever need anything. ‘Kay?”

When she reached for the paper, he didn’t let go. A tingle ran through her shoulders at his serious gaze. “I mean it. Call me if you need something.”

And just like that, Katy Rose had a friend.

###

Before long, they became tight. Some might even call Kate and Blake soul mates. And yeah, he was gorgeous with that carved jaw and a twinkle that never left his eye. Some girl, some day, would be lucky… She wouldn’t let herself think of him that way—until she did.

Girls in the new school hadn’t exactly extended a warm welcome, especially Blake’s sister, a shoo-in for president of the mean girls’ society. Amanda made her skin crawl with her fake smile hiding a filet knife.

Beautiful with an always tanned look and long black hair that hung in perfect curls like a waterfall, Amanda shared the same natural grace as Blake, but that’s where their likeness ended. Cruel and spiteful. Rumor had it Amanda moved through every cute guy in their high school by her senior year.

I spent my time running wind sprints with Blake, and I avoided her. I’d watch Blake work out, urged him on when he was tired, and sat with his mom and dad at games to cheer his touchdowns.

By the time the college football scouts left town, Blake had five invitations to visit top schools. And he deserved it, too. He’d worked hard both on the field and in the classroom. He chose Texas A& M. 

I asked him why and pride lit his eyes when he answered, “I love Texas.”

As much as his athleticism dodge and dart around tackles, or his powerful pin-point accurate throws thrilled me, I loved our quiet times together best. We talked about everything, families, hopes for the future, goals and other stuff we wanted to accomplish.

May thirtieth, the day Mom and Dad died, burned in my memory like a branding iron. I’d like to rip that day out of every calendar ever printed. Maybe sleep through it or curl up in a ball in some hole some place.

Blake knew. On the first anniversary of their death, he insisted I hang out with him at his dad’s mechanic’s shop. What he didn’t know was the smell of grease reminded me of the hours Dad spent maintaining that stupid Cessna. Too bad he couldn’t prevent it from crashing during Mom’s solo flight. The solo was her big day, so I had to stay home, otherwise I would have been with my dad, him explaining the instruments or what we flew over. I hate airplanes. The stupid piece of trash folded like aluminum foil when it hit the ground. I made a promise there and then that I would never fly again.

Blake wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “I’m sorry Katy Rose. Things will get better. I promise.” He pulled me close.

I wished I could believe him. Ache dug its nasty barbs deep into my heart. No way did anything get better.

The second anniversary of May30 came three days after Blake’s graduation, pairing heartbreak with heartbreak. Reality slammed me like a fullback. My best friend would leave soon. Sure, wasn’t the same as losing my parents, but the ache felt too familiar, too raw. We drove to the lake and Blake taught me the two-step in the bed of his pickup.

“See? I knew I could get you to smile.” He twirled me to a George Strait song in the small space. I let myself laugh, even though my heart was breaking. I loved being in his arms, swaying to the music. For a moment, I’d let myself dream of the future.

We toasted his graduation with strawberry wine, something I’d never had before. It felt good to be a little wild. The first sip burned, but the second tasted sweeter, the way everything felt easier in his presence.

I guess it’s true what they say about drugs and alcohol taking away your inhibitions, because we did things that day we never should have. My mind whispered warnings, but my wounded heart refused to listen. For once, I wanted to feel something other than grief.

We watched fireworks together on the 4th, then celebrated my sixteenth birthday with sweet kisses on the fifteenth.

A week later, he left for college football practice. My heart tore in half as I waved goodbye. He promised he’d be back at Christmas, but deep inside I knew. My life was about to change.

Once I knew for certain he was gone, I hiked to the drugstore across town. In my head, every step sounded like a slow drumbeat, the kind they have in movies when they march the bad guy to his execution.

I waited until the aisles looked empty, made sure no one I knew was around, and I bought a pregnancy test. How had my life veered so badly out of control?

###

A week later, I’m watching the barren landscape of east Texas pass by through the dirty Greyhound window. 

The feedlot stench made me want to barf. I gazed over hundreds of cattle packed into pens waiting to go to market. My life didn’t differ from those poor cows—shuffled around with no say in my fate.

My fingers brushed my belly where this tiny new person lay. A shudder ran through my body. Scared? Oh boy, yes, but there was more. I wanted my baby — our baby, to have much more than what I’d had. I wondered why whoever decided the fate of humans had dumped on me.

I dug in a deep breath. Life had only offered me loss.

The argument with Grandfather this morning seared my mind. His words still reverberated in my skull.

“Some thanks I get for taking you in.” He stormed around the living room, his face beet red, shouting. His thunderous voice slammed through the silence and shook me to the core.

When he planted both fists on his hips and stopped, I thought maybe he’d slap me. The fury in his glare made me freeze in place. It was like he stripped me bare and saw into my soul, like a bug caught under a magnifying glass.

“I’m not even gonna’ ask who you’ve been sleeping with. ‘Cause I know you’ve been sneaking out with that no good mixed race mongrel Lightfeather ever since I brought you to Bellville. I told you I didn’t want you hanging around him.” Every word stabbed like a dagger, slicing me open and inserting shame, then leaving the wound to scab over.

He pointed at her belly. “That’s what happens when you think you know everything.”

His words blurred together, the sound of them more painful than the meaning. Sobs tore from my chest. Even that didn’t stop him.

The tears dried as numbness settled over me. It was the only way to survive his tirade.

“You’re lucky I don’t turn him into the authorities for rape.”

What? No. My mind panicked at what that could do to Blake’s future. He’d turned eighteen this spring.

I pressed my hand into my sternum to keep my heart from exploding. I’d do anything to keep from ruining Blake. Word of this, especially legal action, would dwreck all the work he’d put into getting his scholarship. I couldn’t let that happen, no matter what it cost. I couldn’t destroy his dreams.

“I’ll do whatever you want, Grandfather. Just please don’t tell anyone. I’ll do anything. Please.”

He paced the room, thumb rubbing his chin, features contorted in thought. My heart pounded as I sorted the options. If he insisted I have an abortion, I knew I’d die. 

I knew nothing about the laws. What if I ran away?

Grandfather face me, a hard edge crusting his expression. The coldness in his eyes paralyzed me in place.

“You’ll go to Erma’s. I don’t want to hear from you again until you’ve given the brat up for adoption. You’re too blasted young for this.”

Even though I’d never even met Mom’s sister, Erma—Aunt Erma, she couldn’t be worse that this.

Grandfather pulled out his billfold. The sight of it deepened the hollowness in my chest. I was just a transaction to him.

“I’ll call Erma and make arrangements. You got time left today to get to the bus station.” He tossed some bills into her lap. The money landed like a slap. Humiliation burned my cheeks.

“This will take care of the ticket. If you ever contact that trash, I’ll ruin him.”