Not that she could blame her. If Willow had a daughter, she would feel the same way, but since she didn’t, she didn’t have to think about it from that angle.
That night Willow and Todd got roped into hanging out in the family room and watching some television after dinner. While her moms watched some dumb sitcom, Todd spent the whole time text messaging some girl he claimed not to like, and Willow spent some time playing around on her phone, noting that 70 people had liked the picture she posted earlier and scrolling through to see what was going on in the lives of her old friends.
There was a picture of Scott with some girl named Holly that Willow didn’t recognize. The comments all alluded to a relationship, but his status hadn’t changed, so she wasn’t sure. It seemed like she should care more than she did.
She didn’t think anyone noticed her snooping until Todd murmured, “He’s an asshole.”
Glancing up in surprise, she asked, “Who?”
He nodded toward her phone. “I saw that picture earlier.”
“Oh.” Willow shrugged. “It’s okay, I dumped him anyway, not the other way around. It’s high school, he’s bound to date someone else and I’m bound to run into them in the halls. At least she’s not one of my friends.”
Calling them her friends seemed a little odd, but calling them her “old friends” felt weirder, so she went with that.
“Still,” he put in loyally.
Willow offered him a little smile. “Who are you texting?”
“Nobody.” He glanced up as she quirked a brow and he sighed, lowering his voice. “Becka.”
“I thought you totally didn’t like her,” she said lightly.
“We’re just friends.”
“Does she know that?”
“I don’t know, girls are dumb,” he stated.
“Um, no, I’m pretty sure boys are dumb.”
For the next few minutes they bickered back and forth like they used to and it was a nice change of pace. Willow didn’t even realize the sitcom had ended and the news was on until Todd had to go back to texting Becka, who thought she was being ignored.
“That’s just awful,” Ashlynn was saying, shaking her head.
Willow glanced at the television to find out what Ashlynn was talking about and saw a news story about a 15-year-old girl who had been kidnapped and kept in some deranged man’s basement for several months. He’d been captured and in addition to the kidnapping charges, he was being charged with rape, to the surprise of absolutely no one.
“I just can’t handle stories like this anymore,” Lauren stated.
“Rotting in jail isn’t good enough for that monster,” Ashlynn added.
Lauren shook her head, agreeing. “I’m just so glad you were rescued before anything like that could happen to you, honey. You were so lucky.”
Ashlynn slid a glance in Willow’s direction, catching the suddenly stormy expression on her face and reaching for the remote. “Well, I think that’s enough news for one evening.”
“I haven’t seen the weather yet,” Lauren objected.
“You can check it online,” Ashlynn stated, changing the channel.
It was too late. Willow already felt the initial sinking sensation that slowly morphed into hollowness in the pit of her stomach. Lower in her gut, she was already beginning to feel a dull ache—the same overwhelmingly uncomfortable feeling that she got anytime she was reminded of her ordeal. Her therapist had given her some bullshit breathing exercise to do, but when feelings of anger and injustice were welling up inside of her, she wasn’t thinking about breathing—and she wasn’t about to start doing a breathing exercise in front of her family anyway.
The need to flee was coming on strong, like an itch she needed to scratch—but in her brain, where she couldn’t get to it.
There was also nowhere to go. Out, away—anywhere, but she didn’t feel safe by herself in the world anymore. Even though she was sure it was only her imagination, she still imagined people watching her, waiting for their next opportunity to hurt her.
A couple of times she even considered going to her father to see if he had any friends or associates or whatever who could just keep an eye on her when she had to go to and from school. She never went, afraid it would be too embarrassing, and he would probably just say he couldn’t help her anyway.
She had started carrying a pocket knife in her purse, but realistically, she knew it wasn’t likely to help her in the event that a few big men decided to kidnap her again.