When The Heart Heals

Chapter 1-3

Saturday afternoon, Drew picked Alyssa up and drove her to his house, so they could finish on the project. As Alyssa got out of his car, the scratch marks on his door captured her attention. “Drew, someone keyed you.”

“I know.” He shrugged. She didn't need to know how he'd kicked the hell out of the punching bag he and Dad had hung in the basement. It wasn't her fault.

“Was that on Wednesday?” she asked hesitantly.

“I think so,” he admitted.

“I'm sorry.” She touched his arm with one bare hand. Her fingers looked cold. “If you have to come over again, let's leave your car at school, okay? It kind of stands out in my neighborhood.”

He patted her hand, finding her fingers cold as he'd expected. It's about 12 degrees out here. Where are her gloves? “That's a good idea, but don't worry about it, Allie. It's not your fault.”

Without thought, he slipped his arm around her waist as he walked her into the house and down the hallway to the den. He had placed the rented video camera on the coffee table and rearranged the brown leather furniture, pushing it up against the walls to create an open area in the center for their commercial set. “Right. Okay, let's run through our script one more time. I want to be sure I've really got it all down before we turn on the camera.”

“Sure.”

They practiced a while, and then set up the camera on its tripod and got to work. It took a few tries, but they eventually got a video they were proud of. Then Alyssa helped Drew move the furniture into its usual configuration around the entertainment center. At that point, Drew's dad came in.

“Hey, Dad. This is Alyssa. Allie, my dad, James Peterson.”

“Hello, Alyssa,” James replied, his pale blue eyes shining with mirth at the mention of her name. I'm going to have to answer some questions later, I see. Then his father continued. “Hey, would you two like some banana bread?”

“Sure, Dad,” Drew agreed eagerly, his mouth watering at the thought of his dad's expert baking. “You know I'm always hungry.”

“Yes, please.”

What's that note in Alyssa's voice? Drew turned to study her and found a strange, manic expression on her face. She rubbed her lip with the back of her hand.

James returned with a plate laden with four thick slices of the bread. Alyssa grabbed a piece and took a bite. Her eyes, just before they slid closed, took on a wild, wolfish expression. She trembled as she chewed.

He finished his slice and deliberately pushed the other two towards her without a word. Then he got up and left the room. When he returned with a tall glass of milk, the plate was empty of every crumb. He sat down beside her on the sofa and handed her the milk. She accepted and downed it quickly, setting the glass on a coaster. Then she looked at Drew, blushing furiously. He held out his hand to her, and she took it. He pulled her against him, hugging her tight. She didn't fight, she just leaned her cheek against his shirt. Her hands rested on his chest.

“When did you eat last?” he asked gently.

“At school,” she replied, her voice strained.

“Lunch yesterday?” he asked, dismayed.

“Yes,” she mumbled into his shirt.

“Why?”

She lifted her head at last. “It's pretty normal.”

He looked into her eyes and saw the strain she had been living under. School, work, no food. Alyssa's on the brink. “Oh my God. I'm sorry I've been so mean to you. I had no idea.”

She tried to smile. “I've been mean to you, too. It was stupid, wasn't it?”

“It was,” he agreed. “Let's not do it anymore.”

“Okay.”