Hurt: A Novel (Solitary Tales Series) by Travis Thrasher Read Free Book Online Page A

reading Ephesians and thought of you when I read these verses:
    “God decided in advance to adopt us into his own family by bringing us to himself through Jesus Christ. This is what he wanted to do, and it gave him great pleasure. So we praise God for the glorious grace he has poured out on us who belong to his dear Son.”
    This applies to me as well as you, Chris. And please know this: even though I’m up here in Chicago and will be here for a while, I’m praying for your mother and you. I still pray that we will be a family again, and that the work God is doing will continue on in Mom.
    Stay strong and let me know if there’s anything you need.
    Dad
    It’s strange to hear Dad saying this stuff to me.
    I think about that guy in the driveway of our old home as I left Illinois and vowed to never look back. I hated that man and assumed I was going to hate him all my life. I didn’t know that he was as confused and struggling as I am right now.
    Stay strong .
    The words encourage me. I certainly need as much help as I can get.
    I don’t have any classes with Mr. Meiners, so I have to make a special trip to see him right after morning break. I make it to his homeroom where he teaches history all day long. He’s sitting at his desk, grading papers.
    “Sorry to interrupt,” I say as I enter the room.
    Mr. Meiners has a thick beard and thick dark hair. Sometimes I wonder if he used to be a hippie when they had those—back in the sixties or seventies, I think. I’m not as good with history as he is.
    “How can I help you?”
    “Well, I’m just, uh—”
    I’m not sure how to ask him. I’m not even sure what to ask him.
    “Someone told me that you might be able to help me. To really help me.”
    His look changes. Is it concern? Frustration that I’m bothering him?
    Whatever it is, it looks serious.
    “Do you need help in one of your classes?”
    I shake my head.
    I don’t know if I’m being watched. Or if this room is bugged. Or if Mr. Meiners is with them.
    “It’s not school related?” he asks me in a direct, quick manner.
    This was a bad idea.
    “Well, not really.”
    “Then sorry. Why don’t you ask your guidance counselor? Or homeroom teacher?”
    This doesn’t seem like Mr. Meiners. I’ve always seen him to be a caring, thoughtful teacher. The least he could do is ask me how I need help.
    “You better get to your next class, Chris,” he says, going back to grading papers.
    I nod and want to say something else, but I don’t.
    I exit the room and hear the door shut behind me. Students are heading this way for next period.
    Well, that was a major fail.
    I head to my next class, wondering why Mr. Meiners was so rude and uncaring.
    Maybe M&Ms stands for something more mysterious.
    “The weekend is coming up,” Kelsey tells me.
    “It’s only Thursday,” I say.
    “That’s what I mean. It’s approaching.”
    “Oh.”
    I love doing this. Playing games with her and teasing. It’s cute because it’s so easy. And because she always acts shy and unsure of herself.
    I know why she’s asking about the weekend. This is one area—maybe the only area—where I can be quiet and mysterious.
    It’s obvious to me that I’m going to see her at some point. But it’s certainly not obvious to her.
    “I’m hoping someone has a big party I can go to,” I tell her.
    “You are?”
    “You know me. The party guy.”
    “Since when?”
    “Since that one time I showed up and saw you all glammed up.”
    She turns red, and I figure I should be nice.
    “Or maybe I can skip the parties and just hang out,” I say. “With you.”
    “Sure.”
    It’s after lunch, and we’re near the entrance to the school. Normally we might be outside, but considering it’s freezing out there, we’re hanging inside around the corner from the cafeteria. It’s a good place to talk because it’s away from everybody.
    “Kelsey?”
    “Yeah.”
    “Listen—I’m just kidding around with you.”
    “You like doing