Forever Changed

“What is that?” I asked confused.

“It’s a file the prosecutor gave to me. Rick’s case goes in front of the judge after New Year’s. Your friend Maddon is a character witness for his father.”

“No, he can’t be,” I said, shaking my head. “He hates his father.”

“Kass, I don’t think any kid really hates their parent,” she said kindly.

“But he does Mom. His dad used him as a punching bag, daily.”

“Well, he’s on the public defender’s list and is slotted to show up in front of the judge on January third,” she said, handing me the paper so I could see.

“This has to be wrong,” I said, looking at Maddon’s name and date of birth listed under the heading, “Character Witnesses.”

“Kass, Maddon has had his share of run-ins with the law too,” she said, sitting back down beside me.

“How do you know?” I asked, jumping to my feet aggravated.

“I know because the prosecutor ran a screening on all of the character witnesses so he can use whatever he can to discredit them.”

Bile rose up in my throat at the trap they were setting for Maddon. “They couldn’t have found anything on him. He’s practically a boy scout, or I guess you could say a hero,” I said, feeling the whole thing was a misunderstanding. I knew Maddon. He had nothing to hide.

“Honey, he was arrested for drug charges when he was fourteen.”

“No, Maddon doesn’t do drugs,” I said, shaking my head in denial.

“Kass, it’s true. They wound up dropping the charges. Jim thinks they worked a deal since the records have been sealed, but honey he had them in his backpack outside an elementary school when he was arrested.

The room spun from her words. In all the secrets we had shared during our three-day texting marathon, Maddon had never mentioned being arrested.

“He was also suspended for a week in junior high when he punched a kid maliciously in the face. Sweetie, he’s violent, just like his father.”

I got up and walked out, heading up the stairs to my room. My heart shriveled up into nothingness. I could have argued that he wasn’t violent, that he had told me he had never raised his fist to anyone, but it was all lies. Maddon had fed me nothing but lies. I wondered if his whole ploy was just to get in my pants. I couldn’t help wondering why he hadn’t taken the opportunity tonight. I was all but willing to give him the one thing I had promised my dad I wouldn’t.

I closed my door behind me and dropped onto my bed. I pulled my iPhone from my bag after hearing it chirp.

Hey sweets just checking to make sure you made it home okay. Text me when you get this.

I stared at the message for a moment before clicking my phone off and sliding it in the drawer by my bed. Turning off my light, I curled up on my side, clutching a floppy-eared stuffed bunny I had gotten in my Easter basket when I was four. I tried to sleep, but my eyes refused to close as I replayed every moment Maddon and I had spent through my head. Mom came in to check on me at one point, but I pretended to be sleeping, so she eventually tiptoed out of the room.

My eyes opened the next morning to the sun creeping through my window. With my throat dry as the Sahara, I headed downstairs, hoping to grab a bottle of water to bring back to my room before anyone else woke up. I was surprised to find my mom in the kitchen with a stack of papers in front of her.

“Good, you’re up,” she said, looking at me like she had about as little sleep as me. “Pack your bags. We’re going away for a few days.”

“I’m not sure I want to go anywhere,” I croaked from my sore throat.

“You don’t have a choice. We’re going to get away from all of this for a few days,” she said, indicating the file from the lawyer in front of her.

“Where are we going?”

“Beech Mountain in North Carolina,” she said.

“But Mom…” I started to protest.

“I know, skiing is not your thing. It’s really not my thing either, but I always made an effort for your father’s sake,” she said, smiling sadly at the memory. “But we're not going skiing, anyway. We’re going so we can hang out in the lodge, drinking hot chocolate, and sitting by the fireplace. So, go pack your bags. Our flight leaves in three-and-a- half hours,” she said, standing up to give me a hard hug. “I’m sorry, honey.”

I nodded my head, working to keep the tears at bay.

“I know the pain is harsh, but it will dull over time.”