“Well, right now I’m only worried about you. I don’t like that you’re so far away from me.”
I felt small, like the size of the apple I was now squeezing as if it were a stress ball. “I’m not ready to leave yet.”
“Well, you’re an adult now, and you know what’s best.” I couldn’t tell if she was sincere or sarcastic. “But, baby, if you stay, are you sure you trust this John boy? You really shouldn’t be involved with anyone—a girl in your state.”
“We’re taking it slow,” I assured her.
“Because you know what happened the last time you had your heart broken. I cannot go through that again.”
My breath caught. I hadn’t expected her to go there. “I can’t go through that again, either.”
“I’m only thinking of you, Chastity. You are so sensitive and so eager to be loved. Just don’t let that take your focus from what’s really important,” she soothed.
“I won’t. This banishment seems to be doing some good. It’s almost like my own personal, rustic Wonderland.”
She chuckled. “If I could have gotten you into Wonderland, or Betty Ford, or any of those clinics quietly, you’d be there now. But listen, if you’re not ready to come home, I completely understand. You take all the time you need. There will be other opportunities, I’m sure. Just promise me you’ll at least think about it. And call me. You will call me occasionally?”
“Yes, mother, I’ll call you.”
“Well, then. That’s something.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Things were going extraordinarily well with John, and I was truly happy for maybe the first time ever. Every day I spent with him, I learned something new and more fascinating than the day before. For example, John was afraid of flying. He was offended when I laughed at him for it, but I was really laughing at the memory of our first encounter—as adults anyway. Maybe John’s fear of flying played a part in him acting so rudely when he came to pick me up at the airport.
“Yeah, that was it,” he said flippantly when I posed the idea to him.
We still bickered and made sarcastic comments to each other, but I realized now that it was just flirting. Nothing to get worked up about.
John spent a few days teaching me how to drive his truck since I had never driven stick before. Honestly, I had never driven anything larger than a two-seater. We would go off-roading in random fields. John knew which ones were deserted. Considering how hard I must have been on his poor truck, he was surprisingly patient with me during our lessons with only the occasional sardonic comment.
“You must really like me if you’re letting me drive this thing,” I said to him one day.
He placed his hand on his chest. “This thing?”
“I’m sorry.” I raised my shoulders to my ears. “Does this thing have a name?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, of course I didn’t give Benji a name.” He stroked the dashboard and whispered, “Don’t you listen to her.”
“Benji?”
“I always wanted a dog,” he responded, “and since I couldn’t have one, I named my truck what I would have named my pet. That’s totally normal, right?”
“Oh, yes. Everything about you is totally normal.”
I think John and I could agree we weren’t your average young people. We both had idiosyncrasies and oddities to our personalities. It was what drew us together.
“We should get back to the farm,” he said, tousling the hair on top of my head.
I tried to bat his hand away and whined, “Hey, I’m trying to drive.”
On the drive back, I’d glance at him to admire his chiseled jawline or the cute little dimple that only appeared on the left side of his mouth. Then I’d focus back on the road, and I’d feel his gaze on my face. Occasionally we’d look at the same time, our eyes would meet, and we’d grin. It was sweet. My heart felt light, like it had floated up into my head, and the only thing keeping it from ascending into the heavens was my skull.
When we’d pulled into the driveway, I asked John if I could take the truck out for a spin on my own.
“Why would you want to do that?”
I tossed my head back. “Can’t you just trust me?”
“Okay,” he elongated both syllables. “Just be careful, all right? I mean, you’ve gotten pretty good at driving stick, but you’re still a novice.”
“I’ll be careful, and it won’t be long.”
“Good.” He took me in his arms and wrapped me up tight like I was the filling in a John burrito. “Cause I have something I want to show you.”
I brightened. “Oh, really?”
He nodded and placed a kiss on my cheek before exiting the truck.
Waving my best princess wave, I carefully backed out of the long driveway of the house. I was still a little jerky when it came to switching gears but was definitely improving. The radio was blaring country music, and I giggled because I hadn’t even noticed. I sang along to the parts that I knew. An unfortunate consequence of spending so much time with John in his car was that I heard country music a lot. It seemed to be the only music they played on radio stations here, or maybe playing it in the background was John’s way of subliminally torturing me. Either way, it had been seeping into my brain without my knowledge. Never would I have guessed that I’d actually like, well tolerate, country music.
I never would have guessed I’d be driving a beat-up, old manual truck down a gravel road to the nearest town to buy baking supplies, either. That was my secret mission. I was going to make John a cake. His mom had given me the famous pineapple upside-down cake recipe along with tips and tricks to make it turn out light and fluffy. It was about time I spoiled John a little. Not that my presence in his life wasn’t a gift in itself.
Sometime during the drive, I realized I was smiling. In fact, I hadn’t stopped smiling since John was in the car. The muscles in my face hurt from all the smiling I’d been doing lately. I tried to massage my jaw as I drove. Was it normal to smile this much?
Miraculously, I made it to the grocery store without stalling the truck or getting into any accidents. I placed the usual trucker hat on my head, pulling the brim down over my eyes before casually entering the building. I hadn’t been to this grocery store since that awful episode that sent me into a panic attack, so I was proud of myself for braving it and going back alone. It was pathetic that going to a store by myself felt like an accomplishment.
Linda’s list seemed easy enough to follow. The trip took longer than it would have if John were with me. I didn’t remember my way around, so I ended up going down each aisle and searching an inordinately long time for things most people would be able to spot right away. When I’d finished throwing the list’s contents into my basket, I strolled up to the only cashier on duty.
“Someone’s making a cake, I see,” the middle-aged woman commented as she scanned the items.
“Yep,” I murmured.
“What’s the occasion?”
“Well, uh... gratitude, I guess. I’m making it for this guy that I’m sort of involved with... I mean, I don’t know what that even means. ‘Involved.’ It’s just that he’s not only a friend, but he’s not my boyfriend either. I just...” I caught myself before I could continue rambling, “It’s just a cake.”
The cashier nodded knowingly. “Say no more.” She gushed over young love and reminisced about her glory days in high school—she had two beaus to choose from—while she bagged my groceries.
I smiled and nodded, glancing at the magazine rack as she spoke. None of the magazine covers featured me, and I was relieved. That is, until I realized half the rack was empty. Had they pulled all of the magazines with my face on them? Were they afraid I’d come back to do more damage? Maybe I was overthinking. When she was finished with her story, I took my paper bags and headed out the door. Why had I engaged that much with a total stranger? John was making me soft.
A rush of cool, damp air hit me as I stepped outside. The sky was a dark, almost green color,
and the clouds were low and ominous. It looked like a storm was rolling in. Please let me get home before it gets bad, I prayed to whoever was listening. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a bright flash and groaned. It appeared the lightning had started ahead of the rain. Another flash caught my eye. It was closer this time, and it made my vision spotty. I blinked, trying to readjust my sight. Then, there was a flurry of activity. Before I knew it, they had surrounded me.
“Chastity, is it true you’ve been hiding out in this small town for months?”
“Chastity, do you have any comment on Cooper’s new love interests?”
“Is it true you tried to kill yourself?”
“Did your Where’s Rosie costar sexually abuse you?”
They crowded me, encircling like a frenzy of sharks, and I was the baby seal. Their questions came in a flood, washing over me. I was sinking in them as if a giant wave I hadn’t seen coming had suddenly overtaken me. Now I was stuck in the undertow, desperately trying to float back to the surface.
“That’s enough,” a husky voice shouted. “You leave this girl alone.”
My body floundered as I tried to simultaneously evade the predators and search for my rescuer’s voice. Then I was being pulled back to shore.
In reality, I was being pulled back into the grocery store. The kind old manager I’d seen before had been my protector. He plunged through the turbulence and led me to his office in the back of the store. Guiding me by the shoulders, he gently sat me in the desk chair. “Are you all right?”
“I... I...” was all that would stammer out of my mouth.
“Do you need some water, Chastity?”
My eyes blinked rapidly as if I really was recovering from the effects of a saltwater rescue. “Chastity?” I gasped. “You know? They know. You all know.”
“Yes. I know,” he said, handing me a bottle of water from his mini-fridge.
“But... How? I tried so hard to hide.” My voice sounded echoey and far away.
He was reluctant to answer, but I think he could see my sanity depended on some kind of explanation. “I’ve known Ken for... well, I don’t want to admit how long I’ve known him. It’d give away my age,” he smirked. If he was trying to lighten the mood, he was failing. I was too consumed with this news. “I remember when you came to town for Will’s benefit. Can’t forget something like that. The whole town was grateful for what you did.”
I was confused. “So, you recognized me from way back then?”
“I recognized you from more recent than that. We do get magazines and TV shows in these parts,” he chuckled. “I knew it was you the moment you stepped into this store. Maybe I’m not supposed to tell you this,” he rubbed his hand over his gray beard, “but Ken told me you’d be coming to stay with him.”
“What?”
“Said he was worried about you and wanted to have someone in town looking out for you just in case,” the old man—Bill, according to his nametag— said.
I scoffed. “In case what?”
His answer was a shrug. “So, I’ve known it was you the whole time. I suspect a few others do, too. We know how to keep a secret in this town.”
There was something portentous in the way he said that. What kinds of secrets could such a small town have? “If you knew and others knew, then someone must’ve made a call or something. How did they find me? Who brought them here?” I was begging for answers.
Bill kneeled in front of me so that our faces were at the same level. “I honestly don’t know. But now that they’re here, we won’t let them get to you. Don’t you worry. We’ll protect you.” He offered a reassuring smile and grabbed the corner of the desk to hoist himself into a standing position, grunting with each crackle of his knees. Stepping toward the door, he said, “You stay right there. I’m going to make a call. We’ll get you out of here.”
After he left, my thoughts began as if this was a completely normal day. I wondered what had happened to my groceries. I hadn’t brought them in with me. Had I dropped them in the pandemonium? Surely the eggs were destroyed if I’d abandoned them in that crowd. Ugh. That crowd of people with their questions and cameras and microphones... The media had found me. And they knew everything. Everything. They knew about Cooper’s affairs, they knew about my suicide attempt, and they knew about my Where’s Rosie costar.
I was suddenly claustrophobic. The walls seemed to be closing in on me, and I couldn’t catch my breath. I had to get out of there. I couldn’t take the risk that they’d find me in this office. There would be no waiting for the friendly old manager to come back to liberate me.
Air. I needed air to clear my head. I jumped out of my seat but had to bend over to right my balance as stars danced behind my eyelids. Once the vertigo had passed, I cracked open the door, peeking out of the office. No one was nearby, so I made my escape. It was easier than I’d expected. The manager’s office was directly adjacent to the back door of the store. I poked my head out and was thankful to see a small parking lot with cars and no people. It must have been the employee lot.
I ran. At first, I ran the opposite direction of the gaggle of paparazzi; then I made a sharp turn and headed toward the main drag that led into and out of town. I had no plan; I only knew I needed to be far, far away from those people.
Thunder rolled, lightning crackled, and the rain followed. If I had been in a state of mind to have a sense of humor, I would have laughed. It seemed like my emotions were controlling the weather—like a superhero or a supervillain. This was just bad luck, though.
The rain went from heavy to deluge. I was drenched instantly, which made running harder. It didn’t matter. I wasn’t thinking about that. The scene in front of the grocery store was playing on loop in my head. They knew. They knew how to find me, and they knew my secrets. All of them. I choked on a sob as the weight of what that meant smacked into me. There was only one person who knew my secrets, and if those people knew... A low keening sound forced itself out of my body as if the sound itself was the expulsion of those thoughts. Had John sold me out? Why would he have done that? When would he have done that? We spent almost all of our time together. He liked me. I thought he more than liked me. There was absolutely no way he would have blabbed.
He was the only one you told, a voice in my head nagged. Nobody else could have known. It had to be John. I started sobbing, the rain mixing with my tears. It seemed the perfect time to cry because nobody could have noticed the difference.
My pace was slowing. I hadn’t run for that long in months. Physical and mental exhaustion was setting in, and I dragged my feet one in front of the other. Now I was only focused on moving—on getting somewhere. The rain appeared to be never-ending. The sound of the thunder was starting to match the strikes of lightning. I was in the heart of the storm now.
We’d only had a few bad thunderstorms since I’d been staying with Kenny and Martha. I was told that was unusual because summer storms were generally a weekly, if not daily, occurrence in these parts. Of course I’d somehow conjured up the worst one yet with my mood.
I saw a flash of light ahead, but it wasn’t lightning because it grew brighter and steadier. It was headlights. I was saved! At that moment, I didn’t care who was in that car. I was going to beg for a ride home, using every pitiable excuse I could think of until I got my way.
The car skidded to a stop, the door flew open, and I heard a familiar voice before I could see the face. “Chastity.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
“Chastity! You’re okay.” His voice was low and hoarse and sounded like he was in pain.
I kept walking. He was the last person I wanted to save me.
“Chastity? Chastity, stop!” He ran up to me and blocked my path.
He looked confused, so I glared at him as if laser beams were shooting from my eyes, hoping the look alone would convey my feelings. I couldn’t form the words to express the swirl of emotions consuming me.
“What’s wrong?” John asked. “Chastity, let me take you h
ome. You’ll catch your death in this weather.”
Those might have been the most poorly chosen words he could have used. Saying “catch your death” to a suicidal girl was in poor taste. Honestly, what was with these people? They should have all gone through some sort of sensitivity training before I arrived. You’d think they would have been more aware of my situation than to use phrases like that. Kenny and Martha had done it, too.
Was I suicidal? I still didn’t think so. That part of me was gone. I figured I’d been through enough at this point that I didn’t want to die per se. I only wanted to find a place where I could be alone and miserable for the rest of my life. Someplace I wouldn’t have to see him.
“Chastity, come home,” John pleaded, placing his hands on my shoulders.
Home, I thought bitterly. So much for that. Just as I’d gotten used to this place, to these people, something terrible had to happen. It seemed about par for the course with the way my life had been lately. I pushed him away from me, and my voice dripped with venom as I said, “I’m not going anywhere with you.”
He blocked me again as I tried to sidestep him. “Chastity?” His eyes asked a stream of questions. I hated him for looking at me that way, for acting like he was worried about me. “Talk to me.”
The rain cascaded down his face, and I wondered if he was crying a little, too. Much in the same way my tears would have been undetectable in this torrent, his would have been as well. His features certainly bore the markings of sorrow. No, I would not allow him to play the victim.
I exploded then. My fists slammed into his chest, and I pounded them furiously blow by blow. Incoherent words and phrases flew out of my mouth. “I don’t want you to... How could you...? Just leave me alone.” Then came the bawling. I didn’t recognize the sound that emanated from my body. It was as if everything I’d been feeling recently, or maybe my whole life, was finally blasting to the surface.
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