I bite the inside of my lip and avoid his eyes.

“Julian. What did you take.” This time it’s more of a demand than a question.

I finally nod my head and gesture toward the Tramadol on the nightstand, signaling for him to pick it up. Elijah picks it up and reads the label, his eyes widening.

I sit down on the edge of my bed and hang my head in my hands. “Please don’t tell Coach.”

Elijah is quiet. He holds the pill bottle in his fist. He puts it in his pocket and lets out a frustrated sigh. Finally, he says, “Does Ms. Birdie have fresh parsley in the fridge?”

“Parsley? The green stuff?”

“Yeah. Go get it for me, and a mug. We can make that bruise go away quicker,” he says.

With Birdie out with Pastor Ernie for at least another hour, it’s easy for me to rummage around in the refrigerator and find the bag of freshly washed parsley. I bring it back to Elijah, who pulls me into the bathroom and closes the door. He puts the leaves in the mug with just a tiny bit of water and crushes them with the end of his toothbrush. The muscles in his neck flex with each movement. I watch him work. His eyebrows knit in concentration; he studies the concoction he’s making in the cup.

“Lift up your shirt again,” he says, scooping some of the bright green stuff with his fingers. He sits down on the closed toilet seat and gently paints the red skin on my side with the crushed parsley. “Parsley has vitamin K. It’ll help the bruise fade faster. Maybe. Hopefully.”

I wince a little as his fingers skate softly over my ribs.

“Sorry,” he says, his breath warm on my skin.

He gently pulls my shirt down and offers me a tiny smile. “We can do it again in the morning. Some people say cayenne pepper and Vaseline help, too. Maybe we can try that if this doesn’t work.”

I nod at him. I want to tell him thank you, but I can’t.

He had the chance to turn me in. To tell Birdie I stole her pills. Tell Coach Marcus that I wanted to play hurt and get me in pretty major trouble. Instead, he crushed parsley with the end of his toothbrush.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he says, brushing past me and quietly leaving the bathroom.

I don’t protest when he leaves with the bottle still in his pocket. I stand and look at

myself in the mirror.

He crushed parsley with the end of his toothbrush.

· fourteen ·

ELIJAH