The Wrong Man For Her

“Burritos and fried rice.”

“That might have to wait until a dinner gathering.”

As Maddie listened to everybody else, she wondered how Nick was going to go about reaching the boys who were showing signs of resistance. He was a skilled counselor, but some kids did fall through the cracks.

Like he had. When she began to think about his difficult adolescence, she stopped short. Damn it, she wasn’t going to feel sorry for him.

KARA GLANCED around the room. After they’d introduced themselves, Nick had given them one last assignment. Write about how they were feeling at the end of the session.

On the wall was a poster of common reactions to victimization. He said they could write those feelings down if they applied and go from there.

So she wrote, “Isolated, helpless, powerless.” She bit her lip. “Shy. Don’t like the boys in the group. Glad Dr. Walsh is here. Wonder if I’m ever going to get better.”

Someone touched her arm. “Kara, are you all right?”

She looked up at Dr. Walsh. “Huh?”

“You’re crying.”

Her hands went to her face. “Oh, God.”

Dr. Walsh stood. “Come on, let’s go outside for a minute.”

She couldn’t get her breath.

“It’s okay, Kara. It’s okay.”

She managed to stand. Nick nodded to Dr. Walsh, who led her out and down to the ladies’ room. Inside, she wet some paper towels and gave them to Kara. When Kara just held on to them, Dr. Walsh took them back and pressed them to Kara’s face, which felt like it was burning up. “Better?”

“Uh-huh. I’m sorry. I hate being such a tweaker.”

“Never apologize for your reactions in there, Kara. You’re going to see a lot of the kids breaking down.”

“Yeah, I’ll bet Nato and Hector are real criers.”

Dr. Walsh chuckled, then got serious. “They’ll show it in other ways.”

“By giving Nick a hard time.”

“He can hold his own.”

“I’m glad you’re in the group.”

“Then so am I.”

Kara wished she could meet with Dr. Walsh individually and not Nick, but she was afraid to ask. Instead, she pushed away from the sink. “I’m better now. Do I have to go back in?”

“You don’t have to do anything. But it might help you feel more comfortable next time if you faced everybody now.”

“I guess.” She hesitated. “I don’t think I’m gonna make it here.”

Dr. Walsh squeezed her shoulder. “Don’t be so quick to judge. Give us a fair shot.”

“Okay.” She would. Even though she knew neither Nick nor Dr. Walsh could understand what she was going through.

When she’d come home with visible bruises, Kara had told her folks she’d been beaten up in the school parking lot by a bunch of girls she couldn’t identify. It was a lie. She couldn’t tell anybody the truth. Ever. Her parents had made her come to the RCVC, and she didn’t fight it because she was afraid, if she did, somehow they’d find out what really happened, and she couldn’t let anybody know that.

Because what had happened was all her fault.

NICK SMILED and spoke to each teen as they left, even Nato and Hector, who grunted, “Later, bro,” as they headed out. Then he crossed to the door and closed it.

“That went well, don’t you think?”

Count to ten. Twenty. Now, turn around. “No thanks to you.” His voice was deadly calm, which was how it got when he was angry. This was too much to expect of him, and he was going to tell her so. Because he was around her again, he hadn’t been sleeping well, or eating or anything! The idea of working in this group with her was outrageous.

“Excuse me? I thought I contributed pretty well.”

“Tell me the real reason you did something as unprofessional as volunteering to be the second counselor and then springing it on me in front of all these kids? You of all people know how important first impressions are with crime victims.”

“You were great with them.”

“Answer the question.”

“I already told you I couldn’t find anybody else.”

“Why didn’t you warn me?”

She raised her chin. “I knew you’d object. And try to find a way to keep me out. I couldn’t let that happen.”

“When did you get so underhanded? You used to be an open book.”

“It wasn’t underhanded. It was expedient. I would have won in the end, anyway.”

“Of course, because you run the place.” He threaded a hand through his hair. “Why the hell did we think we could do this? Work together?”

Her faced reddened. “I know where my head’s at. Under no circumstances am I going to let you run my life any longer.”

“Any longer? What does that mean?”

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

“Back off, Nick.”

Maybe he should. “Maddie, this isn’t going to work. We can’t be together for…what—” he glanced at the clock “—a few minutes without arguing.”

Pivoting to face the chair, she picked up her journal. “You’ll have to do something about that then.”