by Lane Hart
“So that’s your long way of telling me that you’ll keep your mouth shut?” I ask.
“Yes. Not to mention that it’s not good for the soul to keep secrets. Locked away, it’s easy for them to start getting dark and twisted, making us feel worse than we should.”
“Okay,” I agree, because she’s right. I want to tell someone to take the burden off, and I can’t tell Aric or Blake. Ever. “One Sunday morning when I stayed over at Blake’s, I went downstairs to find something to eat because Blake was still sleeping.”
“Did this happen recently?” Sophie asks to fill the silence when I pause.
“No. It was, like, about two years ago, after I turned sixteen.” After my summer with Hannah I withhold. I was a mess back then, unable to move on even with anyone else, although I knew I should, but I wasn’t ready to give up on her.
“Okay, so you’ve kept this a secret for years. That’s a long time.”
“Yeah, it is. So, um, I’m down in the kitchen before the sun came up, starving and sporting morning wood, like usual, you know?”
“Yes, I’m aware of the phenomenon,” Soph says with a completely straight face.
“Yeah, well, it is what it is. And no one else was up in the house. At least I didn’t think they were…”
“Blake’s mom?” Sophie guesses with a wrinkle of her nose.
“Yeah. She was up, and it didn’t take her long to notice that I was hard even though I tried to turn my back to her and face the kitchen counter.”
“That must have been awkward,” Sophie says.
“Fuck yes, it was. She’s his mom! I thought she would pretend like she didn’t see it and we would both go on our way like nothing happened. I had no idea she was going to come up behind me and, you know, grab me.”
“She did that? Right there in the kitchen?”
“Yep, while Blake and his dad were upstairs asleep. And she’s like caging me in with her hand on my dick and nowhere for me to go. I remember she whispered that she would take care of it for me with her hand, her mouth or anywhere else I wanted to put it.”
“Wow. That’s rather creepy and incredibly bold of her,” Soph says with a shiver.
“It was, and at the same time I sort of…liked it even though I know I shouldn’t have.” Back then, I didn’t want anyone touching me but Hannah. But afterward, well, that’s when I started getting blowjobs, wanting to forget what Collette did and to stop thinking about Hannah, feeling guilty I didn’t wait for her to come around before moving on…
“You can’t feel bad about that, Royal. It’s sort of a natural thing.”
“Yeah, I guess so. But still, I should’ve pushed her away or something, right?”
“No. In a perfect world, you never would’ve been put in that position in the first place.”
“Well, I was, and it was so fucking embarrassing. I’ll never forget her saying, ‘Uh-oh, looks like you made a little mess. Let me go find you some clean shorts,’ like it was all my fault and I should be ashamed, you know?”
“It sounds like she wanted to embarrass you, to make you feel bad. What a bitch,” Soph says with a shake of her head. “Sorry. I don’t think psychiatrists are supposed to call people bitches, even if they are.”
“So, now that you know the whole story, do you think I should come clean with Blake or with Aric?”
“That’s up to you,” she says. “Do you think she did the same thing to Aric?”
“I don’t know. From what I’ve gathered, it sounds like they had sort of an ongoing affair…”
“Oh. Okay, well, you could ask Aric and see if it started the way she did with you. But as far as Blake goes, do you think any good would come from him knowing about that?”
“Probably not. That’s why I haven’t ever said anything. I don’t want him to be pissed at me too,” I explain.
“And he’s already pissed at his mother and Aric, so there’s no reason for you to take the damage from her mistake.”
“So I shouldn’t tell Blake?”
“I don’t think you have to. You may want to, just to alleviate any guilt you feel, but you don’t have anything to be guilty for, Royal. None of what happened was your fault. You were the victim, and you don’t have to tell anyone if you don’t want to. There’s no obligation. But you could always tell the police or someone since what she did was…”
“No,” I interrupt her before she finishes that sentence. “I’m not going to do that.”
“Okay. Your decision. I’m glad you told me, and I hope it helped to get it off your chest.”
“Yeah, it did. Thanks, Soph,” I say, since hearing her opinion about that morning makes me feel better even if she’s just making shit up as she goes.
“No problem,” she says as she straightens her spine. “Now, can we please talk about the rumor I heard about you and Hannah Morgan hooking up at homecoming? I thought we hated her.”
“We do,” I mutter. “It was nothing. I was drunk, and she was easy,” I say even though the words burn my throat. Hannah is anything but easy.
“Nothing, righhht,” Sophie drawls. “I always thought something was up with her for you to get so worked up after the SATs. I mean, I know you were pissed, but you seriously went ape shit on Hannah.”
“We sort of had a history, one she’s apparently always regretted, but it’s going to stay way back in the past. She’ll never forgive me, and I don’t think I can forgive her either.”
“It’s not impossible for you two to work things out. There’s always a chance, no matter how slim…”
“I don’t think so. My shot with her got blown to hell. I have zero chance of getting into a decent college or playing football again. My two best friends are probably going to try and kill each other before we graduate. It’s all going up in smoke…”
“Maybe Aric and Blake will make amends,” Sophie says, ever the optimist. “And you could always go to a community college and then transfer to another school.”
“It’s going to be hard to pay for even community college once I’m broke and homeless,” I grumble.
“What? Homeless?”
Shit. I’ve said way too much. Sophie’s always had a way of making me do that.
“Don’t go silent on me now,” she says. “Talk to me. What do you mean you’re going to be homeless?”
“After everything that happened in the spring, my dad was so angry he told me that after I graduate from Mercy, he’s cutting me off and kicking me out of the house.”
“Oh my god, Royal. I’m so sorry. I can’t believe your mom would let him throw down that sort of ultimatum!”
“That’s how my mom has always been,” I tell her. “Whatever my dad says goes. I’m not sure if it’s because she loves him or is scared of him. Either way, she’s never been on my side.”
“Sorry. That really sucks.”
“The most fucked up thing is that it was his fault I got caught trying to cheat,” I admit to her. “He sent the boy to take the SAT for me, and I had no idea.”
“Holy crap!” Sophie exclaims. “Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“Because my dad was already furious with me for blowing up my future. When I pointed out it was all his fault, he told me he wouldn’t have had to pay someone to take the test for me if I wasn’t an idiot, and then he beat the shit out of me and sent me to boot camp.”
“That’s where you were this past summer?” she asks.
“Yep.”
“Wow. No one knew for sure,” she says.
“I haven’t even told Aric or Blake, so I’m not surprised.”
“Did you have, like, bruises and all when you went to boot camp?” she asks.
“Oh yeah.”
“And they didn’t ask who did that to you?”
“No,” I reply. “My transcript only said that I was expelled from Mercy for violating the student code of conduct, so my dad told them I kept getting into fights.”
“I’m sorry,” Sophie says. “Does he do that a lot?
”
“What? Lie or hit me?”
“Both?”
“Only on days that end in Y. But not for much longer. At least that’s one good thing about being kicked out of his house. I just have no clue what the fuck I’m gonna do after graduation...”
“You’ll figure it out. You could always come stay with me,” Sophie offers.
“Yeah, right. I’m sure your parents would love that,” I chuckle.
“Like they’re ever home? I haven’t seen them since May, and I probably won’t until Christmas if they decide to come home from Fiji or whatever beach they’re relaxing on.”
“Must be nice,” I say.”
“Yeah, must be.”
“Thanks for listening, Soph. I owe you one. Just, don’t tell anyone about what we’ve talked about, okay?” It felt good to get everything off my chest, but I don’t think I’m ready for anyone else to find out. Maybe I never will be either.
“Your secrets are as safe with me as they would be with a real psychiatrist,” she says with a wink.
Chapter 17
Hannah
I’m so confused and on edge after Royal leaves that I need to work out some of my frustration. The best way to do that is to go down to the studio my parents set up in the garage and paint.
Not that I’ve been doing much painting lately.
I’ve been too depressed.
And while picking up a paintbrush used to make me feel better, not even it could lift my spirits after I became an outcast and the most hated girl at school.
While I throw colors onto the long, horizontal canvas and blend them, my mind keeps going right back to my conversation with Royal.
Could he have been telling the truth about his dad setting up the SAT cheating?
It’s possible, but seems unlikely that a parent would do something so messed up.
How can I believe anything Royal says, especially when he tried to convince me that he had loved me when we were at camp? If he had, he wouldn’t have said those awful things about just wanting to sleep with me, and then going off with Claudia. And he wouldn’t have ignored me our entire junior year until the SAT blowup.
I have no clue if minutes or hours go by as I just keep painting and painting, losing myself in the colors and image that unfold before me.
“Holy cow, Hannah!” my mom eventually exclaims from the garage door, startling me.
“What?” I ask as I spin around to face her with my brush still in my hand.
“Your painting,” she says as she comes closer without taking her eyes off of it, making my stomach twist into a knot, because I don’t usually show her or my dad my work if it’s something personal, which this one is.
“It’s stupid,” I say on a sigh as I take a few steps back to take it all in, loving and hating it at the same time, but what else is new? “I’m probably going to burn it in the backyard tomorrow.”
“Burn it!” my mom gasps. “No, sweetie. This-this belongs in a gallery!”
“No one wants to see my amateur mess,” I say as I toss my paintbrush down on the plastic covered floor. No matter how much I work on a drawing or painting, they never feel good enough. There’s always something I could change, something I should try to do better. Sometimes it really sucks being a perfectionist.
“I think you underestimate yourself, Hannah. Don’t you have to submit an original work to Madison for their art scholarship?”
“Yeah. It’s due by the end of the year.”
“Well, why not this one?” Mom asks.
“I don’t know,” I tell her with a shrug. “I’ve got time to do something better, like a painting of the lake or a sunset…”
“Send Madison this one. I’m sure your lakes and sunsets are beautiful, but I doubt they’ll have such…emotion.”
“Emotion? Really?” I ask in surprise. “It’s not exactly a positive emotion. I was feeling hurt and angry.” Emotions just make an image look reckless and not carefully controlled with skill.
“Well, it’s still beautiful, so there’s a lot more to it than just the negativity. It’s a winner, that I’m certain of, sweetheart.”
“I’ll think about it,” I tell her.
“Good. And it’s late, close to midnight, and tomorrow’s a school day.”
“It’s almost midnight?” I ask in surprise. That means I’ve been down here working for hours without even noticing.
“Come on,” Mom says when she throws her arm around my shoulders, not even worried that I may get paint on her. “You need to get some rest.”
Royal
“Where the hell have you been?” my dad barks at me as soon as I come through the front door a little after midnight.
“Out.”
“Out where?”
“Like you really care?” I mutter.
“Your mother was worried,” he growls. “She’s been waiting up for you.”
“I didn’t ask her to do that.”
“Go apologize to her. Now!” he demands.
“No. I don’t have anything to apologize for. And you know what? If you want me gone so badly, maybe I’ll just go stay with Blake until graduation,” I respond. Now that his mom is gone because his dad kicked her out, I can start staying over at his place more. Maybe he and his dad Kurt would let me move in if I finally told them about the shit I have to deal with here…
When I turn around and start back to the door, my dad lunges toward me. He tackles me down to the kitchen floor, and then his fists are slamming into the back of my head and my sides. Once I stop fighting, because it hurts everywhere to move, the entire room spinning around me, it’s his dress shoes that take over, kicking me in the ribs, while I’m literally down, over and over again.
After the blows finally stop, my ears are ringing but I vaguely hear him say, “Try to move out before graduation and I’ll break both of your fucking legs!”
I’m not sure if he yells anything else, because my eyes close and I drift off to sleep.
Chapter 18
Royal
The next morning, my mom is kind enough to shake my shoulders to wake me up from the floor so that I can get a shower and get ready for school.
Because I have to move so slowly because of the pain in my ribs, I’m late for first period.
Thankfully, nobody notices me walking slower than a ninety-year-old man until right before lunch when I’m confronted by Sophie.
“You look like you’re dragging today, Royal,” she remarks.
“I’m fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yep,” I say as I put my books away in my locker, wincing when they rub against my ribs.
“You’re a horrible liar,” Sophie says before she tugs the side of my t-shirt up and gasps. “Royal!”
“It’s nothing,” I grumble as I step back from her reach so that she has to let go.
“That looks awful, and you’re obviously in pain!”
“I got home late last night,” I explain.
“So instead of grounding you, your dad beat you?” she whispers softly. “Why don’t you come stay with me or with Blake?”
“Not gonna happen,” I tell her, because my father may be a liar and a piece of shit; but when it comes to inflicting pain, he always backs up his threats. I really don’t want to spend the rest of my senior year in a wheelchair.
“I’m worried about you, Royal,” Sophie says when she walks with me to the cafeteria.
“I’m fine. Really.”
Lowering her voice, she says, “Psychiatrists are supposed to report child abuse.”
“I’m not a child, and trust me, turning him in would only make things worse.”
“If you say so,” she responds with a sigh as we go through the lunch line.
Now that Maddie and Aric have made up and she’s even moved in with him or something, Maddie and Hannah are eating with Aric at our table, which really pisses me off.
Therefore, Blake and I can either sit alone at the girls’ old loser table, or we
can both suck it up and sit with Aric.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Blake comes up beside me and asks before I’ve made a decision.
“You’re not going to let him take over the table, are you? That’s like admitting that he wins,” I point out, not because I want to sit near Hannah but because it’s true.
“Screw that,” Blake says. “I hope sitting with him and his girl pisses him off.”
“That’s the spirit.”
“You’re not just saying that because you’re still trying to bang Hannah again, are you?”
“Nope. That ship has sailed, burned down, and sank to the bottom of the ocean,” I assure him.
“If you say so,” he mutters before we finally head over to our table. We leave a chair between the three of them and us, and then we dig into today’s meal – lasagna.
It’s harder than it should be to not glance down the table at Hannah, but somehow I manage.
“Who are those dudes?” Blake asks, nodding his head to the side of the cafeteria where a table is set up. Four guys in military uniforms are standing behind it.
“Probably recruiters.”
“They’re wasting their time with all these trust fund babies,” Blake chuckles. “Who in their right mind would give up going to an Ivy League school to risk their life as a soldier?”
“I dunno,” I reply, even though I’m no longer a trust fund kid or Ivy League bound. My options are incredibly limited, something my best friend apparently hasn’t figured out after the cheating scandal.
For months, I’ve been trying to decide what I’m going to do after graduation to earn a living and keep a roof over my head. I’ve never had to fend for myself before, so I’m not sure where to start.
Joining the military is definitely a better option than going to work at some lame minimum wage job. Sure, there’s a chance I may die or lose a limb, but at least I would be doing something worthwhile. Something…good.
