If Only by Becky Citra Page A

don’t think Paul even knew I was there.”
    A long pause. I think I can hear Billie’s heart beating right over the phone.
    â€œThe next thing I knew, Nancy was screaming.”
    Another pause.
    â€œI ran to the living room. Paul had grabbed Nancy and he was hitting her in the face, and then she yelled, ‘Get away from me, you bastard!’ and pushed him really hard. He fell back and then he saw me.”
    I feel as cold as ice. “God. What did you do?”
    â€œI screamed too,” Billie says. “I was so scared. He said, ‘Don’t be a baby, I didn’t hurt her.’ And then he said, ‘I’ll do something worse to you if you tell,’ and he left.” She pauses. “The next morning Nancy had a bruise on her cheek. She told Mom she walked into a cupboard door in the kitchen.”
    â€œOh, Billie.”
    â€œI know. I almost told then. But Nancy had made me swear not to tell. She said it would make Mom even worse and that if we told Dad, he’d tell Mom right away. And then Aunty Susan and Uncle Ted would have to find out, and they’d be so upset. I’ve never told anyone except you.”
    â€œNancy was wrong,” I say. “Making you swear that.”
    â€œI don’t know,” Billie says.
    â€œSomeone could have done something,” I insist. “Maybe Paul would have gone to jail.”
    â€œYou wouldn’t go to jail for that. It’s not like he tried to rape her or anything.”
    â€œWhat if you hadn’t been home? You don’t know what he would have done.”
    â€œIt’s not like I haven’t thought of that.” Billie sighs. “Anyway, he went away. He got a job in Alberta. Nancy said I would be okay, now that Paul was gone, and she went away too. She went to Prince George, and she’s still there, working in a restaurant.”
    â€œAnd is Paul still in Alberta?”
    â€œHe came back a few weeks ago.”
    â€œOh my god,” I say.
    â€œI know.” Billie’s voice is shaky. “I freaked when I found out. But he doesn’t live with Aunt Susan and Uncle Ted anymore and he never comes here, so I don’t have to see him. I don’t even know where he lives.”
    â€œHave you told Nancy?”
    â€œNot yet. But there’s nothing she can do. It’s not like she’s going to come back from Prince George.”
    â€œYou’ve got to tell your mom.”
    â€œI can’t. She’s finally feeling better,” Billie says. “Besides, Paul is a creep but he’s part of the family. If I tell now, who will believe me?”
    Billie is coming over. We’re going to do homework together.
    A horn honks. I swallow my last spoonful of cornflakes and hurry outside. A red station wagon is parked in front of our house, and Billie is getting out of the back seat. She’s carrying a bag of books. She calls, “I got a ride! Come and meet my baby sister!”
    Billie’s dad is driving and her mom is in the front seat, holding Mary on her lap. She opens the window and says hi. She has this really bright smile and doesn’t seem at all like someone who would get depressed. Mary is the cutest baby ever, with dark wispy hair and eyes like blue buttons.
    Billie’s dad looks nice too. He’s partly bald. He says, “We gotta run. You’ll have to walk home, honey,” and then they are gone.
    I feel awkward with Billie. Talking on the phone was easy, but I’m not sure about this. I had warned her about my hair, and she studies me now, chewing her lip, and then says, “I see what you mean.”
    We both grin at the same time and burst out laughing, and the awkward moment passes.
    We decide that we’re not in the mood for homework yet. We go to my room and take turns listening to the shell. We’re positive we can hear waves.
    I’m suddenly afraid that Billie is going to ask me hard questions. I’m not