Connor saw me coming back from a
basketball game.
He grabbed me by the scruff of the neck,
teeth clenched. “Who did this?”
I wouldn’t say.
They’d threatened to go after my grandma.
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He scoffed. “Fine, you won’t talk? I’ll just let
your grandma see those bruises. See how you
explain that!”
Panic set in.
I blurted it out.
The next day, he and his dad paid a visit to
each and every one of them.
Nobody messes with the cops.
His dad told me, sternly, “This is serious. You
let it happen once, they’ll keep doing it. You
tell me next time, understand?”
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After that, Connor waited for me after school.
Walked me home.
Whenever anything happened, he was always
the first one there.
He never hid his feelings.
When he said he wanted to join the police
academy, I studied like crazy, determined to
get into the college across the street.
But he was scared, scared I’d leave him.
He’d say, “It’s okay if you don’t get in. You
can go anywhere. I’ll come find you.”
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Senior year, the day he got his acceptance
letter, he came to my house, beaming..
And I told him, “We’re over, Connor.”
“I only said yes to you because I was scared,” I said, my voice shaking. “Now I’m leaving this place. There’s no point in us being together.”
In the moonlight, his smile faded.
His face went pale.
His hand, holding the letter, trembled.
Finally, he said, “You serious, Ginger?”
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My hands, shoved in my pockets, clenched,
then relaxed.
Like I was making the biggest decision of my life.
“Yeah, Connor. You deserve better.”
He balled his fists, face twisted with rage.
“You better never come back here, Ginger. And if I hear you’re dead, I’m throwing the biggest goddamn party this town has ever
seen.”
He didn’t know my grandma had passed away that day.
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That I’d lost my parents, too.
Back then, I never thought his words would
