The Weight of Blood (2)



Maddy’s lungs turned to stone, leaking out quick, shallow bits of air. One drop. That’s all it would take to end things. Her eyes darted to the school doors, biting a trembling lip as her father’s voice raged inside her head.

“No one can know. No one can ever know!”

She could not, under any circumstance, get her hair wet.

But if she tried to escape, Coach Bates would catch her, and who knew what that would lead to. The principal’s office? Detention? Suspension? Maddy had never been in trouble a day in her life.

So she tucked her low ponytail inside her shirt and followed the line down field.

The girls ran in pairs, except for Maddy, who huffed alone in the back, trying to keep up, trying to outrun the threat of rain looming above them. She wasn’t as athletic as the other girls. Had never played any sports or taken a single dance lesson. Papa wouldn’t allow it. The sweat would’ve only ruined her hair.

“No one can know. No one can ever know!”

“Well yeah, the dress came, but it’s nothing like the picture,” Jules said to Wendy, winded. “I was gonna have Cindy’s momma take it in, but she said she’s backed up as it is, and I said I don’t want to wait . . .”

Maddy watched their long red and blond hair bounce in sync with their strides. They weren’t worried about the rain. They lived a carefree life. Maddy swallowed her envy and tried wrapping her ponytail into a bun, but didn’t have a pin to hold it in place. Not watching her footing, she tripped on a stick, nearly tumbling to the ground with a loud “Oof.”

Jules shot her a look, shaking her head.

“Jesus, could she be more pathetic?” she grumbled to Wendy, who only laughed.

The wind kicked up, blowing Maddy’s hair to the side. The buttery grits, bacon, orange juice, and daily vitamins she’d had for breakfast splashed around inside her belly.

“Anyway, what d’you think I should do? I can go on down to Atlanta, but all the good dresses are probably gone by now and I can’t be caught dead twinning with any of these bitches.”

“We can go together,” Wendy rasped, her face sweaty. “I’ll help you pick something.”

Maddy’s heart hammered. She tried to run faster, wheezing with each stride, and yet still fell far behind her classmates.

“Please. Please,” she begged the sky. “Please.”

The girls made a right turn down by the old soccer field, running near the edge of the woods. The stench of damp mulch permeated the air. Maddy could spot the high school in the distance. They had one more loop to complete their two miles. Maybe the rain would hold off, she thought. Maybe it’ll be okay.

That’s when the first drop hit Maddy’s glasses. Then another. She flinched with each drop, trying to cover her roots with her hands, but the shower came down like an avalanche. The girls screeched and giggled, running faster, wet mud splashing up their legs, thin white T-shirts sticking to their skins.

Maddy’s hair, now drenched, wrapped around her shoulders like a cape, the rain masking her sobs all the way back to school.

Maddy studied herself in the mirror, the last in the locker room that smelled of bodywash, hair spray, and wet sneakers. Any other day, she would’ve changed and rushed to class before the humidity could catch her. She never took showers with the other girls. Couldn’t risk her hair coming in contact with water.

But all that had ended in a rainstorm.

Moist lashes rimmed her hazel-green eyes, skin blanched white. Without a towel, she had nothing to help sop up the water from her saturated locks, which had already begun coming to life. Her hair always dried quick, then rose like sourdough. If her scalp could withstand a perm, it might not have been so bad. But instead, it frizzed, growing larger by the second, a massive lion’s mane, a sleeping monster no regular brush could tame.

She needed a hot comb.

Her hands trembled, desperately attempting to pull the thickening strands through another rubber band. It snapped, slapping her wrist and falling on the floor, just like the others. A pile of dead worms lay at her feet. “You look like you have a painted Brillo pad on your head.” That was what Papa would’ve said if he were standing over her. The words echoed through the chambers of her memories.

Everyone is going to know now, she thought, tears spilling over.

But . . . if she stayed hidden, she could possibly sneak out of school, run home without being seen. Or she could go to the nurse’s office and call Papa to come rescue her. He wouldn’t be too mad. How could she have known the sky was going to change its mind?

“Maddy?”

Coach Bates stormed out of her office, eyes falling on Maddy’s hair, rendering her speechless. For an insane moment, she thought maybe Coach would clearly see her dilemma and take pity. Maybe even send her home without explanation.

Hopeful, she faced the woman, smiling through the tears.

It took Coach a moment to collect herself before barking, “What are you still doing back here?”

Maddy blinked, her smile fading. “I—I . . . I just . . .”

“Get to class! You’ve missed enough of my classes, now you’re trying to miss your other ones too? Why even bother coming to school? You might as well drop out. And you can forget about me giving you a late pass.”

Maddy took one last long look in the mirror and resigned herself to her impending fate with a small prayer. Even if she didn’t understand, God does not make mistakes. She drifted out of the locker room to sunlight beaming through the hallway windows. The sky was a cloudless brilliant blue. No signs it had ever rained. With the hallway empty and the doors a few strides away, she considered making a run for it.

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