by S. C. Adams
While that wasn’t what I was expecting, Lacey’s pep talk makes me feel a little less apprehensive about this whole thing.
“Thanks. Yeah, I hear you. It’s just … I don’t know. She’s my fiancée’s daughter. How fucked up is that?
Lacey nods.
“That’s true, but if you want things to work out, then you have to own it. There’s no dodging that fact.”
I nod, resigned.
“No, there isn’t, is there?” With that, I drain the rest of my drink and stand up.
“I can’t believe you’re my younger sister and you’re the one giving me advice now.”
A smile breaks out on her face then, and Lacey looks suddenly younger. The creases around her eyes lift a bit, and the wrinkles on her forehead disappear momentarily.
“Everyone did always say I was smarter than you, even though I didn’t do well on those damned standardized tests,” she says pointedly.
I nod.
“Lacey, standardized tests are bullshit. They were back then, and they are now. What you’ve learned, and especially how much you’ve changed, are what makes you you now. Not your past.”
My sister nods.
“I know, but it still hangs over my head because anyone can look up my criminal record on-line,” she says a little sadly. “There’s no way to expunge it.”
I nod.
“Yes, but the same advice you gave me, applies to you as well. We have to own our pasts. We have to own the present too, and that means facing the truth about the world head-on.”
My sister shoots me a wry grin.
“Sounds you knew what you needed to hear, Tanner. You didn’t need advice from me.”
I start a bit. Holy shit, she might be right. After all, there’s no way to dodge the issue that Kylie is Veronica’s daughter. Nothing can change that: not money, not time, nor a stroke of good fortune. Kylie and Veronica are related by blood, and there’s no magical thinking that will make this unfortunate circumstance go away.
In short, the only thing I can do is to change myself. I have to come to terms with the fact that Kylie is Veronica’s daughter, and that I love her in spite of it. Suddenly, I’m in a rush to find the beautiful girl. Where is she? I have to tell her that I accept her, despite the familial connection, and I want to make it work.
“Lacey, I have to go,” I announce abruptly while racing to the door.
She grins.
“Of course, big brother. But don’t be a stranger okay? Your nephew wants to see you. I wish I’d known you were coming because I would have kept him home from daycare. You really should visit more.”
I nod, suddenly chastened.
“I’ll try. I promise,” are my rushed words as I dart out the door.
“I know. I hope you know you’re welcome here whenever you want,” my sister calls after me as I get in my car.
“I know, and I’ll do better,” is my promise as I pull out onto the street with one last harried wave. “Bye Lace! See you soon!”
She waves, and her figure recedes as I press the metal to the floor. I need to see Kylie. I need to explain my position and tell her everything on my mind because this girl is worth it. My heart is in my throat, and the traffic makes me grip the steering wheel with rage as I look frantically out the windshield. Kylie, Kylie, Kylie. We need to talk because this woman means so much to me, and finally, I’ve realized that I need to be open and tell her how much I care.
14
Kylie
I wake up this morning horrified with myself. I’m alone in bed. Tanner’s not here, but then again, I haven’t seen him in a few days now. After the amazing time we had in my room, he left without a sound while I was sleeping. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised because that’s his MO. But still, I’m disappointed with myself. Once again, I gave into his persuasive kisses and reveled in the feel of his hands on me.
And every second with him was pure bliss.
So much for getting any answers from the man. Meanwhile, I sigh. Do I have any integrity left? Can I even call myself a good person anymore? What the hell is wrong with me?
I’m not even mad at him anymore. I mean, what’s the point? It’s not like he’s forcing me to be a horrible person. All he does is offer me the opportunity, and I jump on him every time. I decide all on my own to say yes to getting dirty with him. The real issue is I’m not sure if I can say no.
There’s not a damn person on this earth I can blame for this but myself. I turn over again and will myself to go back to sleep.
I don’t know what to throw into this duffle bag. I grab clothes, some books, and toiletries. Packing for a trip like this, there’s no guidebook or anything. Plus, I’m not thinking straight. This decision might be impulsive, it might be stupid, but it can’t be worse than the fact that I’ve slept with my future stepdad far too many times now. I don’t even want to figure out the exact number. I know it’s more than three, and that’s enough to make me cringe.
I mean, once was too much, but forgivable. After all, back in the nightclub, we didn’t know each other. We were strangers. But now, I’m way past that point. Hopefully, I’m not past the point of no return, though. I need to be able to get back to old Kylie, and this trip is the first step.
I need to get away from him. Talking to Tanner gets me into trouble, so I’m taking off for a little bit. Maybe even for a long while - however long it takes to get back to the old me. I’m willing to go through the process.
My fingers surf the web for the registrar’s phone office. If I’m going to take this leave, I’ll have to drop out of school. A voice picks up on the third ring.
“Hello, Registrar’s Office. This is Carly speaking. How may I help you?”
“Hi, Carly. My name is Kylie Mitchell, and I’m a student at Brooks. I’m calling because I’d like to drop out.”
There’s a momentary pause.
“Of course, Ms. Mitchell. Is there a reason you’re dropping out?” I’m prepared for this question.
“Yes, I need to take some time off for health reasons.” It’s true after all – my mental health is impaired given this conundrum with Tanner. That counts, doesn’t it? Besides, I’m not going to get into the nitty gritty with some stranger on the phone.
“Well, if that’s the case, instead of fully dropping out, have you considered a leave of absence? That way, if and when you’re ready to return, you won’t have to reapply. Does that sound like something you’d be interested in?”
I shrug. I should be interested but the truth is, I don’t really care.
“Sure, that’s fine.” I just want to get off this phone call, so I can leave.
The woman clucks.
“Perfect. So, I’ll just need your student ID number and the last four of your social.”
I give her all the information while tapping my fingers impatiently.
“Okay, then. I put in your request, and it’s a go. Your leave of absence is only temporary, and if you want to extend it, you’ll need to call back in six months. Otherwise, your degree candidacy will be terminated.”
Terminated. That’s a scary word, but frankly, I just can’t get myself to care. Tanner has made a mess of me, and I can barely think about school, much less getting a degree. Besides, that’s probably what I’ll do. I’ll let the six months pass by and not call back because half a year doesn’t sound like enough time to heal. Even if it is, I’m not sure I’ll want to come back to New York City because there will be memories of Tanner everywhere. I may as well move to a different state, or even a different country.
“Thanks Carly. You’ve been really helpful,” I say with fake cheer.
“You’re welcome sweetheart. Call if you have any questions.”
I hang up, glad that that is over. It wasn’t an easy decision, choosing to leave like this. College has been one of the few places I’ve had the freedom to grow and explore, and to nurture the idea that I’d be a librarian one day. I had this dream of bringing books to places that aren’t well-served,
like Appalachia or rural Alaska. I even imagined starting a book van service like they used to have back in the day when brick and mortar libraries weren’t as ubiquitous.
All I wanted to do was spread my love of reading, and I just needed to stick it out for four years. My mom was partially funding my education, and after graduation and getting my first job, I would no longer be dependent on Veronica. But I messed that up because who’s going to hire a librarian without a degree?
Unfortunately, it’s done now. I’ve made my choices, and right now, mental peace is more important to me than a B.A. I finish packing. I don’t think I did it effectively, but my bag is full and nothing else is fitting inside.
Looking around my apartment, I feel a twinge of sadness. Am I doing the right thing by disappearing? Even if I go missing, I still can’t stop my brain from thinking of Tanner. But that’s part of this effort. With time, I know my memories of him will dim, and hopefully I’ll find solace in other distractions.
But what if Tanner comes looking for me? I grit my teeth. With where I’m going, there’s no way he’ll be able to find me. Not unless he looks really hard, and I know he won’t. Why would he? All I’ve done is show him the absolute worst side of me. I’m sure he and Veronica will find peace as well without me staring at them with envious, lustful eyes.
My jaw clenches and tears spring to my eyes. They don’t matter anymore. It’s time to focus on me and my recovery.
I head down to the street and call a cab. I give him the address and sink into my seat. I’m doing the right thing for everyone. We’ll all be better off if this nonsense is put to bed.
I open my duffle bag and pull out my mom’s wedding invitation. By tomorrow at three, she will be Mrs. Veronica Logan. Tears fall onto the quality paper stock, smearing the ink.
Fuck!
I can’t bear the thought of Tanner being married to anyone else. I kept sleeping with him because I was drawn to everything about him. He was magnetic and sexy and made me lose myself each and every time. No man has ever made me feel so amazing.
But somehow along the way, like the stupid idiot I am, I fell in love with him. I’m stupid, stupid, stupid. What silly girl falls for their mom’s fiancé? What kind of future is available for us? It’s not like he ever offered to leave my mom for me. I asked, but he never said yes. He didn’t say no, but he didn’t say yes either. That’s an answer in and of itself, and a dagger of pain stabs me in the heart. Is this really happening?
I stare at the invitation, the expensive card stock heavy in my hands. Tears drip, but I won’t let myself make a sound. I deserve this shame, and it’s something I should never forget. That way I’ll never make a mistake like this again.
I never asked for this, nor did I want it. Falling in love with a man who is going to be my stepfather in less than twenty-four hours? I’m appalled. I wish I could forget about him, and wipe every memory of Tanner Logan from my brain.
This pain can’t be worth it.
I’ve read books about love and how two people have to work hard to see if they’re meant for one another. It’s not like in movies, where there’s a meet-cute and then semi-struggle before they have their happily ever after. But this is real life, and the last night Tanner and I spent together, I was hoping he might realize he loves me. I thought that was why he came to my apartment. He was there to tell me what he’d been keeping hidden for weeks: that he’s ready to leave Veronica and begin our love affair in earnest.
But that was a pipe dream.
He hasn’t made any effort to contact me. There’s been no news of a cancellation for tomorrow’s wedding, so I can only be left to think that he’s going through with marrying my mom. It’s something I should’ve seen coming from a mile away.
In fact, every time I brought up next steps or future plans, Tanner would change the topic. I was so blinded by my infatuation with him, that I ignored every single red flag, like an ostrich with its head in the sand. I didn’t want to see, and thus I purposefully ignored the ugly truth.
And now, I don’t even recognize myself. Who sleeps with their mom’s fiancé over and over again? What girl is so utterly amoral, with no control over herself?
The cab rolls to a stop at the curb, and the cabbie turns to look at me.
“We’re here, ma’am.” I manage to pay without incident and step out onto the curb with my baggage in a small heap behind me. The hospital looms before me, its gated entrance imposing. But this is where I belong. After all, when I was trying to figure out where to go, I thought about speaking to a psychiatrist. But the more I pondered, the more I realized I needed something a lot more intense.
A deep dive on the internet brought up this place. North Cross Hospital specializes in treating sexual deviancy as part of its in-patient program. I’d always thought places like this were fictional, but after going through my own issues, maybe this is exactly what I need. I take a deep breath, hoist my bags up by their handles, and begin my trek to the front doors of the insane asylum.
15
Kylie
I walk up to the large glass doors of the hospital and press the intercom.
“Hello?” I ask.
“Hi, how may I help you?” The voice, even though it’s coming through kind of crackly, is a lot warmer than I expected.
“Um, my name is Kylie Mitchell. I called earlier, and I’m here to check myself in.”
“Yes, please come into the main office.” A loud buzz sounds, and I make my way through the glass doors before stepping up to reception. The first thing they do is take away my bags.
“I’m sorry, Miss. But we have to go through your things and make sure everything you brought is on the approved list. Do you have any weapons?”
“In my bag?” I gasp.
The guard nods.
“Yes. Or mace, illegal narcotics, or drug paraphernalia?”
My eyes go wide. This is more serious than I expected, but then again, what was I expecting? Any in-patient program isn’t going to be cakewalk.
“No, it’s just clothes and a few personal items,” I say in a shaky voice. He nods and confiscates my things, disappearing into the back. I have a feeling I might not be seeing my personal items until I check out.
Then, another woman takes me into a smaller office, and flicks on industrial-strength fluorescent lights that make the polished floors gleam. It feels like those hospitals featured in movies. If I was into foreshadowing and all that, I might think this is a sign for more ominous events to come, but it’s probably just how all mental institutions look.
“Please wait here for the doctor,” the woman instructs.
She leaves me alone, and I look around. There are degrees hung on the wall along with a couple of paintings. They’re all serene landscapes, probably used to keep incoming patients calm. It works a little, and I try to breathe deeply in order to calm my mind.
The vibe of the office is very homey which gets rid of some of the fear I had initially. Even if this place ends up being godawful, I won’t leave because that’s what I deserve. But coming somewhere that at least looks nice on the outside helps lessen the pounding in my heart.
The door opens behind me, and a friendly-looking middle-aged woman comes in.
“Hello, Miss Mitchell. How are you today? I’m Doctor Rogers.” She takes a seat across from me, clipboard in hand.
“I’m okay,” I answer. “I mean, I could be better, I guess,” I add to clarify.
The doctor smiles at me, putting her clipboard down flat on her desk.
“Well, that’s what you’re here for. I’m here to do your intake, but before we start, can I get you some water? The A/C in this place can dry you out, and I’m often parched.”
I shake my head.
“Okay then,” she says cheerily, pushing her glasses up her nose. “Has anyone told you what an intake is?”
I shake my head.
“You’re collecting basic information about me?”
She nods.
“Yes, but w
e’ll also be using this time to find the best doctor for you so that you get the best care possible. I’m going to ask you a set of questions, and I’ll just need you to answer truthfully. As long as you do that, everything will work out, and you’ll be back to your healthy self as soon as possible. Sound good?”
What choice do I have? I shrug helplessly.
“Yes.”
“Good,” she says while smiling. She picks up her clipboard, pen at the ready.
“So, my first question is your age and gender.”
“I’m twenty and a woman.”
“Are you currently in school?”
“I was, but I dropped out a couple days ago to come here.”
“Okay,” she writes something down. “When was the first day of your last period?” I try to think.
“Um, about three weeks ago?”
She nods and continues. The questions all seem easy enough. Dr. Rogers goes through the basics, and they’re things I usually get whenever I go to a brand-new doctor. They’re easy to answer and soon, I’m feeling a lot better just from the normalcy of the situation. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but this is like every doctor’s office I’ve ever been to.
“Okay, you’re doing great Kylie. So my next question is, why do you think you’re here?”
I blink at her.
“I’m not sure what you mean?”
“Well, you admitted yourself, right?” I nod. “So why do you feel you need to be here, right now? What’s going on with you?”
I swallow, a little embarrassed at having to admit this to someone else. Until now, the only person who knew about me and Tanner was Andi because it was humiliating. Andi is my best friend, so she doesn’t count. I didn’t want to tell anyone else about my bad behavior.
But Dr. Rogers said if I wanted the best treatment, I needed to be truthful. I take a deep breath.
“So where to start? My mom is getting married tomorrow, and I met her fiancé just a couple of weeks ago. It’s not a big deal. This is going to be my mom’s fourth marriage. The problem was that, when I met him, I didn’t know he was getting married to my mom, and sparks flew. We slept together.”
