Circle the Soul Softly by Davida Wills Hurwin Page B

back to that Saturday rehearsal day when she was late and try to remember what her stepdad looks like. I can’t. He’s too ordinary; he blends in with all the other dads. Absolutely nothing about him would make you look twice.
    Monday I keep an eye out for Stacey, but don’t see her or her car parked in the alley. Tuesday’s the same. Wednesday I get behind Layla at snack, in line for the food truck. “So where’s your other half?” I inquire, with definite Mack Truck subtlety.
    â€œCollege trip.” It seems she freezes up a bit after that, but I can’t tell for sure.
    David sees Stacey drive up on Friday, a few minutes after snack ends. He text-messages me in class. At lunch we watch her and Layla drive away, just like always.
    â€œMaybe we were wrong,” David says.
    â€œMaybe.”
    After school, on my way to a meeting with Tess, I hear someone stomp in through the other entrance.
    â€œHi, Stace. ”Tess’s voice.
    I freeze, then slowly crack open the greenroom door so I can hear.
    â€œYou found my backpack.”
    â€œThere. On the couch.”
    No voices for a second. I imagine Stacey opening and rummaging through it.
    â€œWhere’s my journal?”
    â€œYou know where it is.”
    Another silence.
    â€œI thought we were friends, Tess.”
    â€œThis has nothing to do with our relationship.”
    â€œYou called the police. They came to my house.”
    â€œI called the Children’s Protective Agency, Stacey. They called the police.”
    â€œWhy couldn’t you just call me?”
    â€œI’m required by law to report any suspected abuse.”
    â€œYeah, well, are you required by law to snoop through my stuff?”
    I realize I’m holding my breath.
    â€œYou left it in the theater. I had to find out who it belonged to. Your wallet isn’t in there and you don’t have your name on any of your textbooks. So I looked in your journal.”
    â€œI don’t believe you.” This time, a short silence. “Anyway, you totally overreacted. That was all character work.”
    â€œI don’t think so.”
    â€œYep. So you screwed up my week for nothing.”
    â€œI read the whole journal, Stacey. It’s pretty clear what’s been going on, and—”
    â€œNothing’s been going on, so fuck it, okay? Let it go. Nothing happened. Except I’m on restriction—thanks to you. And stay out of my stuff, or my mom will call her lawyer.”
    Meanwhile, my mom’s going for Mother of the Year. I get to stay out an hour later on school nights and until two on the weekend—if homework’s done and I’m with “Davy.” She loves the boy. She tells Michael he should act more like him. Then she asks me if I’ll go with Michael to Santa Rosa on spring break; she doesn’t want him driving by himself. She even offers to call Ginny’s mom to see about a visit, but I manage to say we had a little fight and I’d rather stay with Michael at Steve’s.
    â€œSet it up however you like, honey. You’ve earned it. And thank you.” That almost gets me. And when I realize how completely both David and Michael are playing her, I have a brief moment of guilt. It passes. What people don’t know can’t hurt them.
    I watch Stacey the entire next week, but nothing’s different. She’s still Arrogant Asshole Girl, though I have to admit she’s not as rude to me as usual. Probably because I am Girl with Boy now, a generally Status-Raising Condition.
    I go online and find out more about child abuse than I ever wanted to know.
    â€œThis could affect her entire life,” I tell David as we’re driving to school one day. “She is never going to be the same.”
    â€œKatie,” David replies, patient as ever,“does the word obsession mean anything?”
    â€œI’m not obsessed—I just don’t get it. Why didn’t she