Unknown (The Secret Life of Cassie Martin #1)(30)

Lucca stops for a minute. I assume he finished, but he continues. “I had just turned six and was about to start school. Both my parents left for about two weeks and were due back that evening. They missed my birthday. They didn’t even call me. When I saw them, they just smiled and went into their offices. I didn’t even get a hello. I’d had enough, so I grabbed a few things from my room and ran away. The old man’s house hadn’t been sold yet, so I broke into his garage. I stayed there for almost three weeks. I managed to eat from his garden, and since the water was still on, I drank from his hose.

“I didn’t care I had missed the first part of school, but the school did. The school called my parents looking for me. They didn’t know where to find me. The old man’s son was a teacher at the school. One afternoon, he showed up looking for me. We talked. He promised I wouldn’t get in trouble when I told him I’d been staying there. He took me to the police who called my parents. Because my parents are so influential in the area, nothing happened to them or me. I went back to school like nothing ever happened.” The tears roll down his face. I don’t think he’ll crush my hand, so I link my fingers through his and squeeze. He glances over at me and smiles.

“Just like Parker, this camp was my life saver. I’ve found people I can’t live without because they saw me for me and not the son of wealthy business owners and former models and footballers.” He squeezes my hand once more as he looks around. “Thank you all for being my friend.”

I give him a hug. “Thank you for letting me.”

After we all calm down, I look over at Noah with a smile. “Are you going to make me cry, too? I’m going to have to start wiping my face on your shirt.”

“I hope I don’t make you cry. We’ve all survived many things to get where we are today, to be who we are today. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere different with anyone different.” He gives me a quick hug before he begins his story.

“My dad worked third shift, and we only had one car. Each night, my mom kept me up to drive my dad to work. We did this for years. I enjoyed taking my dad to work because I like the nighttime. It always seems so peaceful. One night, when I was seven, a drunk driver struck our car. It was only Mom and me in the car at the time.”

Oh no, this story’s going to end up like Jay’s.

“The drunk driver’s car hit on my side of the car, almost directly into my door. I don’t remember any of this, so I can only give you details on things I was told. I ended up in the hospital. They put me in a medically induced coma to help with the swelling in my brain and spine. They needed to keep me still because, based on their initial findings, my back was broken in several places, and I had head trauma. I also had several broken bones.”

Shocked, I check him over and make sure everything’s all there. I don’t spot any visible scars.

“I was in a full body cast when they finally pulled me out of the coma. I wasn’t in any pain, though, because I had no feeling in any of my limbs. I’d been paralyzed below the neck. My mother was there when I woke up, so I knew there was nothing wrong with her. She’d lost weight, though, from the stress of being with me in the hospital. She was also mad there were no serious injuries to the drunk driver. He was able to walk away.”

I can understand why he told me I wouldn’t be sad since clearly, he’s no longer paralyzed. But his story makes me wonder if he’s the bionic man.

“It was months before I was out of the hospital. My mom was there every day with me, and my dad was there as often as he could be. My mom helped me keep up with my schoolwork and did my rehab with me as I started regaining feeling in my fingers. It looked like I’d be able to use my hands, but there was less than a ten percent chance I would walk again.” He looks at his hands as if he needs to make sure he can still use them as he continues his story.

“I had full use of my hands by the time I could go home, but I still couldn’t walk. Several people from our community helped my parents retrofit the house, so I could use my wheelchair in there. I was determined to walk again even before my legs started to regain feeling, though. It was slow going. I wasn’t allowed to push myself too hard because the doctors were worried I would re-injure myself. When I wasn’t working on my rehab, I was on my computer. I learned as much as I could about computers. I started writing code. I learned how to hack. I wrote some software. Anything I could find to do with computers, I did.”

His chest puffs out with pride at his accomplishments. Each of the boys’ stories—although they were sad—explain the strengths they bring to our team.

“It took me almost two years, but I was able to start walking again. I kept pushing until I could run. Now, I try to make the most of every day. I will never let anything stop me or anyone tell me I can’t do something. Had I listened to the doctors, I would be sitting in a wheelchair sad and miserable.” He leans over to me and gives me a hug.

“I’m so glad you didn’t let them stop you.” I hug him back. “Now, we need to do the happy, funny stories, so we can get in a good mood for tonight. If not, I’ll start singing Pharrell’s Happy to all of you. But first”—I raise my arms above my head with a groan—“let’s get up and stretch real quick.”

“Good idea. While we break, we can do our last task,” Parker suggests, but he refuses to look at me. He knows I don’t want to do it.