Well, tonight was more eventful than I thought it would be.
It is prom night at Mary’s high school. While the dance was a source of great excitement for many of the students, both Mary and Jordan are too young to attend. Instead, they were planning to have a date at Mary’s house. Mary was very excited about it, but I expected the evening to be quiet—she had prepared dinner for him, and her mother had helped her set up a little table out in the backyard where they could have some privacy. They had just sat down to eat, however, when both Mary and I received a call.
Mary ignored her phone’s buzzing—she did not recognize the number—but I could not ignore Inca’s voice. I left my charge and found Inca hovering over a small alley not far behind the school. From the shadows there I could hear loud sobs, and Inca was glowing with wrath.
“What happened?” I asked. “Is Kayla all right?”
“Encourage Mary to answer her phone,” was all Inca would say. “Please.”
I asked no more, but flew back to Mary in time to see the phone ringing again. Mary sighed in exasperation, but I projected a hint of doubt into her mind—it might be something important. Just answer and see who it is.
A hint was enough. “Here, let me just answer this and see what’s happening,” she said to Jordan. She received the call and lifted the phone to her ear.
“Mary?” gasped Kayla on the other end of the line.
Mary didn’t recognize the voice, but she heard the desperate sobs. “Hello?” she asked, worry immediately springing to her mind. “Nadia? What’s wrong, are you okay?”
For a moment there was nothing but sniffing on the line. “It’s Kayla,” she said finally.
Mary was astonished. “Kayla? Um—” She did not know why her former tormentor was calling her, and old resentment warred with concern.
Kayla was well aware that she had no right to ask Mary for anything. “Look, I totally get it if you want to tell me to fuck off,” she said, her voice breaking, “but I can’t get ahold of anyone else and I thought you might know what to do, because I don’t know what to do—” Her sobs drowned out her voice.
Jordan was frowning at Mary now. She held up a hand and got up from the table. “No, it’s okay. What happened? Are you okay?”
“No,” was the heartbreaking answer. “I’m scared. I can’t go home.”
For a moment Mary didn’t know what to say, until I reminded her of some of the things she had written herself on the website. A bit of calmness came over her as she remembered. “Where are you?” she asked.
“I’m—I’m out behind the school. Seventh street. The alley where the art room lets out.”
“I know it. I’ll be there in a few minutes. Is it all right if I let someone else drive me?” Mary glanced at Jordan, who nodded and reached for his keys.
“Who?”
“My boyfriend, Jordan.”
Boyfriend? Jordan mouthed, smiling, but Mary waved him away. She didn’t have time for the warmth his approval of the term brought, but she would remember it for later.
“Can he stay in the car?”
“Sure.”
“Okay.”
“Okay. Just stay put, we’re on our way. Do you want me to stay on the phone?”
Kayla sniffed, but she already sounded calmer. “Yes.”
“All right, I’m right here.” Mary kept the phone against her ear, but she explained to Jordan quickly what was happening, saying only that it was a friend of hers who was in trouble. She gave the same explanation to her mother, who was concerned, but Mary assured her that she wasn’t going to try and deal with the situation alone. When they were in the car, Mary turned her attention to Kayla. “Still with me, Kayla?”
“Yeah.” Kayla’s tears had slowed a great deal, but she still sounded frightened.
“Are you hurt at all?”
Kayla hesitated. “I think my wrist might be sprained.”
Mary’s stomach sank, but she kept her voice calm. I did what I could to help with that, keeping close so I could hear what Kayla was saying. “Do you want to tell me what happened?”
For a moment Kayla was quiet. Then she laughed a little, a burble of unamused sound. “I forgot, you don’t know. I’m CinderellaFail.”
Mary blinked. “From Strugglebus?”
“Yeah. I meant to tell you, but—I felt bad when I knew it was you.”
It took Mary a few seconds to absorb this. For weeks now she has had private conversations with Kayla, sharing secrets and comfort without ever realizing who it was she was speaking to. This added an entirely new, complex dimension to the relationship between the two of them.
Then Mary remembered some of what Kayla had told her. “Shit,” she said under her breath. “Was it your stepdad?”
Kayla took a shaky breath. “He didn’t want me to go to prom,” she explained, her voice breaking again. “He said he didn’t like my date, even though he’s never met him. But I wanted to go so badly, and when I came down in my dress—” She was crying again, her sobs consuming her words.
Mary closed her eyes for a moment. “Are you okay?” she asked, her own voice a bit shaky. “Is it just your wrist, or—?”
“He didn’t hit me, but he threw me down the stairs. And he was yelling so much, and I just ran. I didn’t know what to do or where to go—Mary, I’m scared he’s going to hurt my mom. Maybe he already did, I don’t know. What do I do?”
“Kayla, I need you to take a deep breath,” Mary said firmly, hearing the hysteria in Kayla’s voice. “Take a deep breath with me, okay? In—and out. In—and out. Now everything is going to be okay. I’m going to call the police, okay?”
“But what if he hurts my mom—”
“The police can handle it, Kayla. Your mom’s going to be okay. I’m going to stay on the line while I call them, okay?” She held out her hand to Jordan, motioning urgently, and he handed her his phone.
A few moments later they were at the alley, the call to the police accomplished, and Mary jumped out of the car. She went to the mouth of the alley, and Inca stood aside, some of her anger abating at the sight of her. Still, Mary felt the chill of Inca’s presence, and she called somewhat hesitantly for Kayla.
Kayla emerged from the shadows. She was wearing a beautiful red dress, but there was a long tear in the sleeve, and it was dirty all down one side. That wrist was clutched against her side, and it looked swollen. Her face was running with makeup and tears.
She looked at Mary, and in a moment every unkind thing she had ever said to this girl, every cruel idea she had used to hurt her, came racing into her head. She covered her face with her good arm. “I’m sorry,” she wept. “I’m so sorry.”
And Mary, who remembered all of that and came anyway, even before she knew that Kayla had become a friend, took a few steps forward and wrapped Kayla in her arms, heedless of dirt, tears, or any lingering resentment. “It’s okay,” she said. “It’s all going to be okay now.”
Inca and I had the exact same thought. We came close and encircled both girls in our wings. Inca rained down assurance and warmth, while I gave them every bit of love I had. It will be okay, we said without words. For both of you.
It will be okay, in time. The police arrested Kayla’s stepfather—he had struck Kayla’s mother, but her injuries are minor. Inca had stayed long enough to drive the man away from his victim before going after Kayla, and he was found in a bar later that evening and taken into custody from there. Kayla’s mother is already talking about divorce. Mary went with Kayla to the hospital to get her wrist checked, staying with her late into the night, and the two girls didn’t say a word more to one another. They didn’t need to.
“Thank you for coming, Asa’el,” Inca said when Kayla was released and Jordan took Mary home to her worried mother. “Kayla could not reach anyone else, and I knew that Mary could help.”
“I was glad to do it,” I answered, “and I think Mary was too.”
It is not quite true—Mary is exhausted, wrung out by the high emotions of the day. But I think she will be glad, when the clouds blow over and she is free of the weight of these things. There is now a chance that she and Kayla could become good friends, and that would be a huge step for her. I am sorry for the pain that was caused tonight, but grateful that there are good things that can come out of it.