The Truth About Gracie

By Sarah Dawson Powell

Whatever was eating at her core was starting to eat at mine too…

 

The future is bright for Tanner and Gracie. At least that's the way Tanner sees it. In less than a year, they would go away to college together and begin the rest of forever with one another.

 

When Gracie chooses to end her own life, Tanner is left alone with so many unanswered questions. Feeling abandoned and confused, his family is less than supportive, his friends don't know how to act around him, and Gracie, well, she's just gone. All Tanner had ever seen for his future featured Gracie by his side. Now he's alone and doesn't have a clue what to do without her.

 

The memory of her soft lips, smeared with strawberry ChapStick, meeting mine in a gentle kiss…

 

When Tanner learns there were parts of Gracie he knew nothing about, his world is turned completely upside down once again. He doesn't tell anyone what he knows; instead he keeps all Gracie's secrets to himself. He makes it his mission to find out what truly brought Gracie to the point of no return.

 

How had he missed the signs?

 

Facing off with family, friends, and his own grief, Tanner grasps every straw he can, wondering if he will ever know the truth about Gracie.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Sarah Dawson Powell
• Release date: Jan 1, 2024
• ISBN: 9798223344940

Book preview

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Content warning: suicide, swearing, pregnancy, sexual assault, mention of violent acts, drug/alcohol use.

Copyright © 2021 by Sarah Dawson Powell

All rights reserved.

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except as permitted by U.S. copyright law. For permission requests, contact [e-mail]

The story, all names, characters, and incidents portrayed in this production are fictitious. No identification with actual persons (living or deceased), places, buildings, and products is intended or should be inferred.

1st edition 2021

For everyone, in the hope that we, as humans, can become more compassionate and empathic.

You never know someone's whole story and never assume you do.

Contents

1. maybe we really would get through this

2. hoping there would be a smile

3. or so I thought I did

4. guess this was where our forever ended

5. the text that would never come

6. left me wondering why

7. time for a goodbye like none before

8. how could this be happening?

9. see ya later, gracie

10. my life had no direction

11. still a virgin

12. the gracie I never met

13. for now

14. getting out of the car

15. coming soon: thomas city commons

16. questions only gracie could answer

17. or sober

18. kinda obsessive about learning the truth

19. work on those later

20. where is she now?

21. going to heaven or hell

22. get gracie pregnant

23. i know u do

24. he knew something i didn’t

25. not even possible

26. he knew someone who had

27. i’m sure

28. it would feel better to be dead

29. you are so dead

30. we need a topic

31. been ready

32. guess i’ll roll another

33. she whispered

34. just like we’d planned

35. i knew where the breaking point was

36. i did owe her

37. i didn’t want her to go away

38. cried the whole way home

39. a far worse way

40. had done to nevada

41. it hurt

42. and drove off

43. poop and guts everywhere

44. my life had been a waste

45. have to move on

46. awkward in the gym

47. did you break up with her?

48. we never crossed that line

49. something, everything, and whatever

50. until i got home

51. feeling them too

52. it’s good

53. and then went upstairs

54. the girl cradled in my arm

55. so we didn’t

56. explain it to me

57. happily ever after

58. the idea of therapy

59. Definitely

60. maybe i could clone her

61. and the truth

62. gracie xoxo

63. let’s go home, son

64. flush with embarrassment

65. brains out

66. that was left there

67. i didn’t need her

68. fireworks in december

69. three weeks later

Author’s note

About the Author

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maybe we really would get through this

I winced as the underbrush cut into my ankle, immediately feeling the warmth of my blood colliding with the cool night air. It was the time of year when summer gave way to fall-- warm and sunny all day, changing to cool and crisp as the sun disappeared into the horizon, making shorts not the best choice.

Gracie squeezed my hand. I glanced over, noting her forlorn expression. It seemed to be permanently plastered on her face anymore. I gently squeezed back, feeling her soft fingers grip tighter around the curve between my thumb and forefinger. She didn’t have fingernails; they were all bitten to the quick. Her gray eyes were guarded when she glanced up at me.

I sighed. Wish I knew what was bothering you.

She looked away, pulled her hand from mine and tucked both hands under her arms as if she were cold. Don’t.

I swallowed hard. In the three years we’d been together, she’d never been so distant. The last few months had become practically unbearable, making me wonder how much longer we would last. We used to share everything, be the best of friends. Now she was suddenly remote. This wasn’t the Gracie I fell in love with.

The Gracie I fell in love with wasn’t like any other girl I knew. She was focused, sweet, and always smiling. The future was all she ever used to talk about; getting out of this town and beginning the rest of her life. Her eyes would light up like fireflies in June when she spoke of how she would be a journalist in a big city, writing stories that made a difference. I guess it was this passion that drew me to her. She made the impossible seem possible.

We reached the point where we parted, halfway between the subdivision I’d grown up in and the trailer park she’d moved to the summer before starting high school. I stood in front of her and pulled her hands from under her arms. Lacing our fingers together, I tried to look into her eyes, but her gaze fell beyond me.

Hey, look at me, I said softly.

She craned her neck to cast her vision higher- anywhere but into my eyes. I followed her gaze down the path that would take her home.

There’s just things, Tanner, she said, her voice shaky. Finally, her eyes found mine. She faked a small smile and blinked quickly. It’ll all be alright. She looked away again. Soon.

I bit the inside of my lip, frustrated with how evasive she’d become. She looked at me again, this time her eyes moist.

I just don’t get why you can’t let me in anymore. I looked at the night sky. What is going on that you can’t tell me?

She shifted her weight, and I looked back to see a tear stream down her left cheek, leaving a trail of wetness behind. Letting go of one of her hands, I reached up to wipe it away. Those random, unexplained tears had become more and more frequent.

When I tried to brush away the tear, she pulled back, leaving my hand midair as she crossed her arms over her chest again and took two steps back.

You can’t just wipe it away. It doesn’t fix anything, she said, blinking her eyes nervously.

Gracie, I…. I didn’t really know what to say. I love you, and hate seeing you like this. Maybe you need to see a counselor or something.

Oh, yeah. She rolled her eyes and chuckled softly. A counselor. That’ll fix everything. Why didn’t I think of that? She took a few more steps away.

I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m just worried about you.

She met my eyes with a hard look. That’s good. You should be.

I took a deep breath. Look, I don’t want to fight. Okay? I held my arms out to her, but she didn’t move. I’ll see you in the morning.

She stood rigid like the tall oak trees enveloping us, staring at me, tears cascading her smooth cheeks.

Gracie?

Yeah. In the morning.

She moved into my arms, and it felt as natural and perfect as it had when summer began-- except her body quivered with sobs now. I folded her into me, feeling her hands on my waist, creeping under my cotton t-shirt. Her honey-colored hair smelled of coconut and reminded me of warm summer days. I kissed her forehead, and she looked up at me.

I love you, Tanner.

I smiled, kissed her forehead again. I love you, too. And we’ll get through this.

She nodded, and it made me feel better, as if maybe we really would get through this.

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hoping there would be a smile

I glanced at the clock to see I was going to be late again. Damn it. Why can’t I wake up on time? This would be my fourth tardy, and it was only the third week of school. Fourth tardy equals detention. Detention equals pissed-off dad.

I threw on khaki shorts and a T-shirt I thought was clean, realized it wasn’t, grabbed another one, ran to the bathroom, swiped deodorant across my pits, brushed my teeth, grabbed my cell and threw it in my backpack, ran down the stairs, out the door and got into my car.

As I pulled out of my neighborhood, making a left on Highway 7, a few raindrops fell from the sky. I looked down Candletree Lane, the road that led into Candle Wood Park where Gracie lived, as a car turned into the park from the opposite direction.

People say love at first sight is a crock, especially when you’re fourteen, but I believe in it wholeheartedly. For three years I’ve defended our relationship. I wasn’t just going to give up because she’s depressed. She means too much to me. We’ll get through this.

Luckily, I flew into first hour American Studies as the bell rang.

Nothing like the last minute, Mr. Kelley, Ms. Plesko said as I slid into my seat.

It’s a monsoon out there. Mudslides everywhere. They should’ve cancelled school, I said with a straight face.

Ms. Plesko glanced out the window as several students snickered. The drops from moments earlier had vanished, the sun now peeking through the clouds. Ah. I see. Hurricane-force winds and everything. She looked pointedly at me. Nice try, but this is Illinois.

I shrugged and winked at her. Thanks.

She shook her head and looked away, picking up some papers from her desk. Quinton Pierce tossed a folded piece of paper on my desk. I snatched it up, threw him a nasty look and moved the paper to my lap where Ms. Plesko couldn’t see it.

I opened it gingerly and read: She’s got it bad for you, Mr. Kelley.

I rolled my eyes and crumpled the note up in my hand, glancing at Quinton. He was making a kissy face. I threw the balled-up paper at him, hitting him on the shoulder. It fell to the floor and rolled several feet away.

I bent over, but before I even had a chance to grab it, Ms. Plesko’s high-heeled feet were there, her manicured hand reaching down to pick up the note.

I shrunk back in my seat, propping my feet on the book rack under Bailey Thomas’s desk in front of me. Opening my textbook, I glanced at Quinton as Ms. Plesko flattened the paper in her hand. Her face turned bright red as she read the words. I couldn’t help grinning. She walked away, ripping the paper as she went, and tossed it in the trash before returning to the lesson.

When the bell rang, I darted to the door, hoping to avoid any scrutiny even though I wasn’t the one who wrote the note. Besides, second hour was calculus with Gracie. Hopefully she was in a better mood than last night.

Tanner, Ms. Plesko said firmly. I froze and rolled my eyes. I stood by the door as everyone else, including Quinton, passed by. When they were gone, she sat on the edge of her desk and picked up a packet of papers, resting it on her knee. I wanted to talk to you about something.

I sighed, knowing what was in her hand. Last Friday I had turned in a paper about my thoughts on whether or not slavery should have been abolished. The thing was: Gracie wrote it. Last year. But I changed around most of the words. Okay, some of the words. A few. Fine. My name. I put my name instead of hers.

This paper is very deep, she started. And strangely familiar. She hesitated, probably waiting for me to ‘fess up. So I looked back at papers written last year and found that Gracie Hamilton’s is very, very similar. Almost identical. Do you have any thoughts on that?

I crinkled my brow. Well, Gracie’s my girlfriend, you know. We’re pretty close and share a lot of the same views.

She nodded slowly, crossing one leg over the other. So you think slavery shouldn’t have been abolished?

What? It doesn’t say that. Or does it?

Gracie is the only one who’s ever had that view in all the years I’ve been handing out this assignment. Well, and you. She held the paper out for me to take. Hesitantly, I did.

I stared down at the words on the page, never really seeing them before. Gracie thought slavery shouldn’t have been abolished? Why?

I want a new paper tomorrow or you get a zero.

I sucked in my breath and nodded. I’m gonna be late.

She smiled wryly. Blame it on the hurricane.

I gave her a half-smile and darted out the door, my mind shifting to seeing Gracie’s face, and hoping there would be a smile on it today.

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or so I thought I did

Once again, I slid into my seat as the bell rang, but the seat next to mine-- Gracie’s seat-- was empty. I leaned over to ask Natalie Weaver if she’d seen her when the PA system beeped.

Mr. Bland? the voice on the other end bellowed.

Yes?

Um, could you send Tanner Kelley to the office?

A chorus of oooohhh’s sounded from my classmates, and I flashed a lopsided smile at them as I stood, leaving my backpack on my desk.

See ya in detention, Matt Rhodes called out.

No, I doubt it. I hadn’t done anything. Unless Ms. Plesko turned me in for that note. I didn’t even write it; Quinton did. If I’m going down, then so is he. This couldn’t be about the plagiarized paper I’d tried to pass off; she was giving me another chance.

Maybe someone had seen me and Gracie sneak off campus during lunch last Friday. That had to be it. And Gracie’s already in the office. That’s why she not in class. Skipping class was nothing new for me, but for Gracie, if we were caught, this would be a big deal. We hadn’t done anything, really. It was a short walk to The Spot, and we’d only been gone forty-five minutes, returning to school in time for fifth period, Gracie’s eyes red and puffy from all her unexplainable crying.

Whatever was eating at her core was starting to eat at mine. We’re two halves of a whole. We complete each other. I’m everything she’s not, and she’s everything I’m not. She used to say I was her Siamese twin and we’d been separated at birth. Then she found out it was politically correct to say conjoined twins. I liked Siamese better. Made me think of those cats in Lady and the Tramp. They were just plain evil. When I told her this, she looked at me as if I were nuts.

Anyway, this pain she’s in, this sadness she’s battling, I feel it too. And every day it got harder and harder to just be idle and watch her suffer. Something had to give. The light in her eyes was gone, the passion in her voice nil, and her big dreams seem to have disappeared.

I skipped down the last of the steps and crossed the hall to the office. Mrs. Kinney, the school secretary, nodded once toward the door to the principal’s office. I clenched my jaw and stepped in to see Mr. Carter, disappointed Gracie wasn’t there. I’d have to text her after this.

Tanner, have a seat. Mr. Carter, the assistant principal, was a large man, haven eaten a few too many double-cheeseburgers in his life. His dark hair was receding, and he always looked like he needed to shave. Permanent five-o-clock shadow.

What’s up? I asked easily. Didn’t want to seem guilty. Which I wasn’t.

He smiled, but it seemed forced, the lines around his eyes deep. Tanner, something…. He stopped and looked at his desk, as if he forgot what he was going to say. When he looked back up, I could tell something was wrong. I called your mom, and she said she couldn’t leave work, so she wanted me to let you know.

My mind raced. Something seriously was wrong, but not so wrong that my mom would leave work. Had my house burnt down? No, not this quick. I was just there an hour ago. Oh, my God. Had I left our dog, Lucy, outside and she got hit by a car? No, I’m pretty sure my mom would leave work for either of those things.

I leaned forward, waiting for Mr. Carter to spill the news.

"There’s been an…accident…with Gracie."

The way he said accident told me it was more than an accident. What do you mean? Is that why she’s not here?

He nodded slowly. Yes, it is.

What happened? Can I leave to go see her?

He looked at his desk again, and I pictured her smiling, driving her old Honda along Highway 7 and getting broadsided by a Mack truck.

Is she okay? I spouted, fearing something worse than an accident. In the outer office, I could hear the cackle of the old music teacher.

Tanner, Gracie was found unresponsive in her bedroom this morning. They weren’t able to revive her.

He might have said more, but I can’t be sure. It was like the chair slipped from under me and I was falling-- falling from somewhere very high. And to whatever depths I was plunging, the oxygen was being sucked from my lungs. Good. Give it to Gracie. Give her breath. Give her mine.

What? I heard my mouth say. Mr. Carter moved toward me, but I looked all around the office, desperate to find something, some evidence this wasn’t real. But all I could see was diplomas and books and family pictures. Mr. Carter has two daughters and a son. His wife’s a cow. They have a fluffy dog. He graduated from the University of Illinois. In 1990. God, how old was he? He had to be in his-what? - fifties? No, wait. He’s the same age as my parents. They went to school together.

This was a dream. In a minute, I would wake up and look at the clock and be late for school. I’d gladly serve detention. Proudly, even.

Just not this.

Mr. Carter’s mouth moved, and I could feel wetness on my cheeks: tears. Gracie’s pain coming through me now. It happens, just usually when I’m alone.

Tanner, Mr. Carter said, probably for the hundredth time.

I tried to focus on him, but my vision was blurred by salty tears. Over his right shoulder, I could see out the window into the staff parking lot. Mrs. Evans, the school counselor, was getting out of her sedan, her cell phone in hand as if she were checking a text message. Beyond her was the green expanse of the football field, surrounded by the track where Gracie and I had run so many times. She always beat me. I acted like I let her, but the truth was she was just faster than me. She knew it but wouldn’t tell. Maybe if we started running again, that would help her depression or whatever this was.

Beyond the track were the woods that separated her house from mine. The woods where we went to be alone: The Spot. Back when everyone was against the idea of ‘us’, we would hide there for hours.

I stood up, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but here. I needed to see Gracie, make sure she was all right. Mr. Carter stood too, grabbed my elbow to steady me.

Are you okay? His sounded like it came from far away.

What happened? My voice, too, sounding like it came from a distance. I wiped my cheeks and asked again. What happened?

His hand moved to my shoulder, trying again to keep me from falling. It looks like suicide.

No.

No.

No.

That wasn’t what he was