16
austin
A blastof pain drop-kicks me out of an already restless sleep. I rub the tender spot on the side of my head, just as a high-pitched whine stretches into a scream.
Kenzie thrashes beside me in bed. She’s having a nightmare.
“Baby, wake up.” I catch her hands mid-air, grateful for a full moon and sheer curtains to see by. Her head whips back and forth on the pillow.
“No,” she cries. “No, no, no...”
I grasp her shoulders firmly and shake.
“Kenzie, wake up.”
She opens her eyes, panting. I cup her face and run my thumb across her trembling lip.
“It was just a bad dream, baby girl. It’s gonna be okay.”
“Nothing’s okay.” Kenzie waves my hand away and sits up, hugging her bent knees. My chest tightens at the sadness in her gaze. “Why am I still having nightmares?”
“Yesterday was rough. All that stress was bound to trigger something.”
“But we did the roleplay!”
I cradle the back of her head.
“These things take time.”
“Fuck time.” She throws the sheet back and slides out of bed.
“Where are you going?”
“Downstairs.”
“I’ll come with you—”
“Don’t,” she snaps, then sighs. “I want to be alone.”
It takes everything I have to remain in bed while she pads out of the room.
Pressing the heels of my hands to my eyes, I drop back onto my pillow. I’m supposed to protect this girl. But how do I protect her from something I can’t even touch? I can’t punch a video, can’t shoot it, can’t choke it with my bare hands.
And the things Icantouch, like that asshole at Rudy’s, would only make more problems for both of us. Likewise, even if I could snatch up every smartphone, tablet, and computer within a thousand-mile radius and burn them, it wouldn’t erase Kenzie’s video from the internet.
If there’s one feeling I hate more than any other, it’s helplessness. But neither helplessness nor hatred make for good tools. They fix nothing, soothe nothing, birth nothing. I’ve got to concentrate on the things I can change. Whoever leaked that video did so knowing it would paint a target on Kenzie’s back. I can’t stop the news from spreading lies about her, but I can remind her that those lies aren’t part of her story, while loving her as fiercely as I can.
I wait an hour before I slip out of bed and venture downstairs. The house is quiet. I find her on the front porch, sitting quietly on the glider in the dark.
“Mind if I join you?” I ask.
She shrugs without glancing up.
I sit beside her. After a few moments of silent rocking, she rests her head on my shoulder. I slide my arm around her shoulders, hugging her close.
“When’s it going to end?” she whispers.
“I wish I had the answer.” I kiss the top of her head. “However long it takes, we’ll get through it together.”