Chapter Fifteen

Mackenzie was dying to put on some speed, but she was the anchor, and knew Ma was counting on her. If anyone fell or got a flat, she’d need to be there. She could see Frankie up in the distance, not too far off.

Mac got into her zone, pedaling to the rhythm of the wheels on the pavement, the ruts in the road, and the cars going by. The bike felt like air underneath her. Or, rather, like it was part of her. Even if she wasn’t going full tilt, she was flying, connected to the earth by a thin strip of rubber, a well-oiled machine and her power. She was stronger physically than she’d ever been. Now if she could only get as strong mentally maybe she’d be able to stop thinking about Grady. Her mind kept going back to him. Back to them. It was like picking a scab—painful, yet impossible to resist.

How could he sleep with Sophie? She was almost family, even if they didn’t grow up together. By law Sophie would be his sister. Psychologically, it was family.

Mackenzie shuddered so hard her front tire wobbled. She struggled to regain her balance, positive she was about to do a major face plant. For a split second, Mac was sure she had narrowly escaped injury. She knew she was wrong as soon as she and her bike parted ways.

As she rolled across the pavement she thought, Wow, I’m glad we did that Take a Dive Day. Instead of instinctively guarding against the fall with her hands and then breaking a wrist or two, she tucked and rolled, just like the Geeks had practiced. Mackenzie reached for the whistle around her neck and blew hard to signal Frankie that she’d fallen. She pulled a couple of pebbles out of her shoulder, which seemed to have taken the worst of the hit.

Mackenzie sat on the edge of the road, examining her injuries. As she watched fat droplets of blood ooze from her knee, Mac finally connected with the idea that had rolled under the bureau into the darkness beyond her grasp; all her turmoil had nothing to do with Grady. Or Sophie. Or the two of them as a couple.

Mackenzie couldn’t remember when it started, but she must’ve been little because every time her father placed his gigantic, hairy hand over hers, it disappeared. She’d thought, I want the rest of me to disappear, too. Mac cried and tried to push him off her. He’d said no one could love her like he did and that they were the only two members of a special club. It’s what he always told her. He’d flicked her little hand away as though he were brushing a gnat off his sleeve. They were alone now. Just the two of them against the world. No one would understand what a special love they had, he cooed. It was only for the two of them: him, and his princess.

Mackenzie always knew she wasn’t strong enough to stop him. But sometime early on, she also realized the one thing he couldn’t control was her mind. That’s when she learned to peddle off into the sky on her flying bicycle. She got so good at pretending it was almost as though she wasn’t even in the bed with him. More like she was watching someone else.

He stopped saying that stuff about their private club after awhile. He didn’t need to calm her anymore, because she wasn’t there. She was flying away.

In fact, throughout her life, Mackenzie had become very good at not paying attention to anything about the subject. She banished it from her mind, and she’d managed to avoid all that crap on TV about kids getting touched or abused, or raped. It wasn’t easy, since all the crime dramas did some sick episode on child porn, every “serious” news magazine did a series where they caught pedophiles, and what seemed like each morning, the news-ertainment shows had a panel of expert doctors with solemn faces, explaining how parents could keep their kids safe.

But what if the parent being warned was the one who was endangering the kid? What if you did that stuff, but convinced yourself you weren’t doing anything wrong? Her dad acted like nothing had ever happened. It made her feel like she’d imagined it all. And she went along with it by becoming very good at ignoring anything unpleasant.

So was it really her fault? All those years—could they have been avoided if she had done something about it? If she hadn’t gotten lost in the clouds? Maybe if she’d paid attention she could have made someone else pay attention? Like old Mr. B? Even now, when she didn’t like what was happening, she’d just ‘go away’, like when Charlie made his comments, she simply wiped him off her radar. What if getting strong mentally could only happen if she paid attention? But it was so much easier to turn away.

“You okay?” Frankie said as she rolled up.

Mackenzie blinked a few times, coming back to the present. She hoisted herself up with help from Frankie’s outstretched hand and tested her muscles, checking for any tears, or worse. “Yeah, I think I got lucky.”

Frankie winced when she saw the RoadCap lying in the grass. Mackenzie held her breath as she raised it up and took a visual inventory. “Really lucky,” she said, noting nothing worse than a clump of grass in the chain.

“Someone’s watching over you, Dude,” Frankie said. “Youch, though, you did get some nice road rash. And your kit’s torn.

Mac looked down at her shoulder. “Yeah, but the bike’s okay. I’ll get some Brave Soldier on it later. Let’s go catch up to everyone.”

Mackenzie tried to concentrate only on the road. Beads of sweat trickled down her back between her shoulder blades. She was achy from the fall, and carefully rode hands-free to crack her knuckles. They always got sore, clenching the handlebars. She leaned back down and forced her hands to relax, resting on just her palms. She stretched her neck, tucking her chin to her chest and caught sight of her legs, pumping the pedals. They were strong and smoothly muscled, and she watched them churning the gears, around, around, around, and raced into the wind.

I’m here on my trip. On my bike. I have not disappeared.

Mac looked up in time to see Frankie dip over the rise of the next small hill. She heard snatches of her voice here and there, accompanying the songs on her smuggled contraband. Mackenzie shook her head as she considered the heat Frankie’d get if Ma caught her plugging her ears, unable to hear traffic. Even so, Mac wished she had some music to drown her thoughts.

So what if the Grady/Sophie crap brought all this back up? Hashing it over wasn’t going to change anything. Besides, who cared? It was over. And done. So done. Was facing it going to change what had happened? No.

It all blurred together like one long nightmare. She couldn’t remember the first night, second, or fiftieth but she sure as hell remembered the last.

There’d been a lot of frenzy, what with Barb moving in, getting ready for the wedding, and everything seemed very fast and exciting. It was the day they were going dress shopping for Mac. She remembered being worried they wouldn’t have enough time, since Barb had to catch a plane to Canada that afternoon in order to finish up some stuff, like shipping the last of her boxes and packing up her office there.

They’d picked a fantastic outfit, and Mac went into the dressing room to try it on. She was just about to take off her shirt when she heard the saleslady on the other side of the curtain asking Barb if her daughter had the right bra.

Barb had gotten flustered and answered, “Daughter? Oh, she’s—wait, bra?”

Mac crossed her arms over her chest and avoiding the mirror, stared at the dressing room curtain.

“Hon,” she heard the saleslady say to Barb, “she needs a strapless bra with that dress. And she obviously can’t go without.”

In the dressing room, Mackenzie felt her face get hot. She didn’t move, but her gaze shifted toward the mirror.She squinted at her reflection, not wanting to look. Opening her eyes, she saw a girl she hadn’t seen, hadn’t wanted to see, for a long time.

She was dressed in one of the many baggie shirts she always wore. But it wasn’t as baggie as it used to be. The sleeves were suddenly too short. Her wrists peeked out the ends and the buttons puckered open. How had she not noticed?

Mac examined herself from head to toe. Her pants were too short, her feet were like huge floppy puppy feet and her toes were scrunched into the tips of her shoes.

A bump in the road reminded Mackenzie of the fresh pain in her hands. But that was nothing compared to what she’d put up with as a kid. Why’d she put up with it? Did she think she deserved it? If she’d been more pissed off, maybe it would’ve stopped. She remembered never looking in the mirror when she was a kid. She didn’t want to see. It was more of that avoidance she was so good at. But that night, the one when Barb left town, she’d made a change then, hadn’t she?

They ended up buying Mackenzie a bunch of bras, including a special strapless one for the wedding. Barb kept apologizing to Mac that, what with all the pre-wedding and mid-moving flurry, she hadn’t even seen how much she’d grown. They spent so much time getting her new shoes, and some jeans and tops, that by the time they got home, the taxi was there, waiting to take Barb to the airport.

She dumped their shopping bags, grabbed her suitcase, and ran to the cab. As Mackenzie stood in the door, waving goodbye, her father came to stand next to her. It was the first night since Barb had moved in that she and her father were alone. Mac had almost managed to forget about his visits, and went rigid when she felt his hand on her shoulder. He waved to Barb, too, and then they had dinner.

Later, lying in the dark, she heard the creak of her door opening. He started as he always did, touching her in one fluid movement, making it almost as though it were an accident. He stroked her hair, her neck, and down. But this time, he just kissed her on the forehead and said, “Goodnight honey,” and left.

He never made another visit. For months, she couldn’t fall asleep, waiting for her door to make that creaking sound announcing his arrival. Then Mac realize why. Once he had a wife to do that to, he didn’t need her like that. Their special club was over. It wasn’t necessary any more.

But just in case, Mackenzie had asked her gym teacher how a person could build big muscles. If he came back, she had vowed, I’ll be strong enough to fight.

That weekend she started saving for her RoadCap.