Guard My Heart Read Online Free PDF Page B

are little lines crinkly around his eyes. It just makes
his face look friendlier, more open, like you can trust him with whatever is
wrong in your life.
    “Yes sir,” I say, handing him the envelope.
    He takes it from me and counts the money. Mia squeals from
her seat, and when I turn around to look at her, she is high fiving (or is it
high tenning?) Jenna and the other girl. I laugh at my sister and take our
tickets and rules for the trip from Mr. Rogers. I walk straight to Mia’s desk
and give them to her. She jumps out of her chair and throws her arms around my
neck. I push her away immediately. What is she thinking? We are at school. I
can’t let my sister gush all over me at school. I have to at least retain some
of my bad-ass dignity. I’m not a trouble maker; in fact, I will set you
straight if I see you are busy with shit on school property. But I did have a
fight once two years ago, with Christopher Thorn. He was my best friend. That
was, until he felt the need to put his hand under my sixteen-year-old sister’s
skirt. I got suspended for a week for that fight. And I got kicked off the
school’s mixed martial arts team. Coach was so angry with me. He said he
couldn’t believe I would do something so stupid. Coach knew why I joined the
team. My stepdad. Him. The reason why I had all this rage inside of me and
couldn’t do a thing about it.
    One night my stepdad came home drunk and started beating
on my mom. It had happened before but never in front of us. I was thirteen at
the time. He didn’t even punch me, just an open-handed slap. I remember the
force behind that slap. It was filled with so much anger and resentment. I can’t
remember what Mom did wrong that day. Maybe the food was cold or the floors
weren’t clean enough. Or maybe he just had a crappy day at work. But when he
slapped Mom and she fell to the floor, all I could think of was that I needed
to stop him. So when he pulled his hand back to do it again, I jumped forward
and threw myself between them. The force threw me off balance and I stumbled,
almost falling over Mom. My eyes stung and my vision blurred. But Dad always
told me “God gave you strength to protect women. If you hurt a woman with that
strength, you are not a man.” So I straightened my back, wiped the tears from
my eyes and took a protective stance in front of my mother. Mia was crying
softly in a corner, where she was huddled into a tight ball. And all he did was
laugh. He stood there and laughed at me. When he saw I wasn’t backing off, he
walked up the stairs and slammed the door to their bedroom. That was the first
night my sister started barring her bedroom door. I always sleep with my room
door open. I need to hear if she calls for help.
    Mom often slept in Mia’s room. They would push her dresser
in front of the door so he couldn’t come in. Why not just lock it? Because the
only key we have in that damn house is the front door key. One day he and Mom
got into an argument, and she locked herself in the bathroom to get away from
him. When we got home from school the next day, all the keys were
gone.
    The bell rang, indicating the end of home room, and all
the students filed out to their different classes. My next class I also share
with Mia and Jenna. It’s Creative English. Why did I take that class when I
don’t have a creative cell in my body? The school’s wacked curriculum. I’m not
really the maths or science type so I went with languages. What I am going to do
with those in college I have no idea. But I’m sure to have a kick ass
vocabulary.
    I walk to the very last row and sit down next to Mia. Her
seat is right in the middle of the room. If you drew an imaginary line straight
down the middle, starting from the front of the class to the back of the class,
somewhere your line will cross with her nose.
     
    ***
     
    The first truck we have to offload is an hour late. Pete
is shouting on the phone demanding to