The Thrashers(47)

Jodi pulled her phone out of her pocket. When he got like this, he didn’t give up. He wouldn’t just go back to the game. He’d come back to her door every hour and pound and pound until maybe he broke it down. She hit the first number in her Favorites list and listened to the tone ring while her father ranted in broken sentences.

Zack knew. Zack knew that if she called him in the middle of the night, he needed to get there fast. He knew how to park two houses away, run up to her bedroom window, and unlatch the screen. He knew how to help her down from the outside when her short legs couldn’t reach the dirt behind the bushes. He knew how to make her smile and forget as soon as they were buckled and driving down the street. He knew not to ask.

“Yo, this is Zack. Leave me a message.”

She ended the call and tried again, her eyes locked on her bedroom door. There was a thump and a grunt. He’d tried to shove it open with his shoulder.

“‘Lo?” came a muffled voice through the phone.

Her heart squeezed in relief. She whispered, “I’m sorry, I need you to come.”

She could count five heartbeats in the pause.

“Dillon?”

Jodi blinked at her wall. “Julian? Where’s Zack?”

“He’s fucking passed out, Dillon.” She could hear him sitting up, his voice groggy. “It’s like, three in the morning.”

“It’s not even one A.M. Can you wake him up?”

“Who are you talking to?” Her dad’s voice came from the other side of the door. She hoped it didn’t carry through the phone.

“Wake him up? Are you serious?”

“Just wake him up! He needs to—He’s supposed to pick me up.”

The doorknob rattled. “Jo, I’m gonna break down this door if you don’t answer me.”

“He forgot to pick you up?” Julian’s confused voice asked.

“No, I just … Just wake him up and tell him I called.” She ended the call.

Zack knew. Zack knew not to ask.

“JO!”

“I’m not talking to anyone! Go watch your game. I’m going to bed.” She turned off her desk lamp and stood in the quiet darkness.

“We’re not done, Jo!”

“Good night!” She listened as the doorknob rattled again. A shoulder shoved against the door, hard.

Jodi could wait. She could lay in bed and stare at the door, hoping it wouldn’t budge. She could pray that he had more beer to blind him into a stupor. Or pray he had none, and that he’d sober up within a few hours.

Jodi could call Mrs. Burns. But she’d call the police.

Jodi could call the police. But they’d cite her dad. Or take her away until her eighteenth birthday. Only three more months of this.

Jodi could get out. She could punch the window screen out, tumble into their bushes, and go. Her bag was still in the living room with her wallet. She could walk. She could call an Uber. She could show up on Lucy’s doorstep, the closest of their houses. It was a Saturday night. Surge pricing. Could she make it there on the ten dollars in her bank account? If her card was declined by the Uber app, she could find a number for a cab company and take it to Zack’s house. Ask him for cash.

It was quiet outside her door, aside from the echoes of the television in the living room.

Jodi could wait. She waited ten minutes, standing in the dark behind her bed, like it was a dragon that could protect her if the door crashed open.

Maybe Zack would come. It took five minutes max to get from his house to Jodi’s. Maybe she just had to wait for a tap at her window and a sympathetic pair of blue eyes.

Her father’s fist pounded on her bedroom door, shaking the hinges. Jodi held her phone against her chest and stood frozen.

“I don’t know when you decided you were too good for me, but it stops today! You hear me? You open this door, or I’ll smash through it and drag you out here—”

Jodi turned to her bedroom window. Slowly, she unscrewed the security latch. Her father was hissing threats beyond the wall, prowling like a caged bear. She tucked her phone snugly into her jeans and quietly slid the window open. She pulled her desk over a few inches and crawled on top of it.

There was a thudding, metal against stone or wood. Over and over. Something slamming down on her doorknob, trying to dislodge it.

The screen on the window wouldn’t give with a push. She tried to remember how Zack did it. Applying pressure to the top two corners she shoved with all her strength. The screen popped, falling down into the bushes with a messy crash. Jodi stood on her desk, slipped one leg through the window, and let her torso follow. Her palms were sweating as she gripped the top of the sill, leaning herself far enough out. Bracing herself on the ledge, she pulled her leg through and closed her eyes as she tumbled.

Leaves, spiky branches, cobwebs. Her legs were tangled, but she twisted onto her feet. She squeezed through the bush and heard her doorknob break.

She didn’t pause to close the window. Her legs started running, her head turned over her shoulder, waiting for her father’s red face to appear through the open window—

She slammed into something. Arms came up to her elbows and Jodi jerked back.

“Whoa.” Julian steadied her. “Did you just—fall out of your window?”

Jodi stared at him, slack-jawed. Her pulse was still racing, urging her elsewhere. “What are you doing here?”