by Ashley Lowe
Tom and I met during my summer interning as an assistant to the director of a film he was starring in. I was getting the director a cup of coffee when he bumped into me, spilling the latte I had worked so hard on perfecting. Without apologizing, he said, “I’m Tom.”
He was very matter of fact, as if he really needed to introduce himself to me. I didn’t let him know that I already knew exactly who he was. He was the guy that all the girls would talk about. Who could miss the marvelous celebrity? He’s been in every mainstream film since I could remember.
Tom sort of stalked me for a few weeks after that. Okay, not sort of. He full on haunted me wherever I was. It was kind of cute at first, but I still wasn’t interested. I had a certain someone else on my schedule. Plus, I’m not exactly what he, or anyone else thought I was.
My life has always been a big act of show and don’t ever tell. People like me are not as widely accepted as we should be. Everyone has their secrets, right? My secrets could have me detached from my family completely. My parents are not very forgiving or tolerant of people that choose not to hold the same values that they do. Case in point: me.
I came home from a long, hard work day—of mainly fetching lattes and rounding up actors and actresses for the director-- to find him sitting on the overstuffed couch with my parents and Ali. That was the couch where I had my first intimate moment with the one I truly loved. That was the couch that we had watched our favorite movies on. That was my couch. That was my home. And, Tom had invaded my space for the last time. I was planning on telling him off the moment I saw his face. But, my father interrupted my big moment.
Dad popped up faster than I have ever seen him move and said, “There you are, sweetheart. I’m so happy for you. It’s about time you settled your life down and found a real man.”
I stopped dead in my shoes. I’m fuming. “Umm… What do you mean ‘found a man’?” Up to this point in my life, I’ve never even had a boyfriend. Some kid—I can’t remember his name—in first grade kissed me on the cheek once. That didn’t turn out well for him. And, I’d hardly consider that a boyfriend since I beat the snot out of his face. He never talked to me again, by the way. That was also my first trip to the principal’s office. My parents were so pissed that I wasn’t even allowed to go to my forced ballet classes. I still feel like I won that battle in a round-a-bout way.
“Tom here told us the news! When’s the big day?” Keep in mind, this is the happiest I have ever seen my father. He didn’t cheer me on at my softball games. He didn’t approve of me being in liberal clubs in high school. He wasn’t even excited that I brought home a four point four grade point average in my AP courses. Mom had to force him to go to my ballet recitals. He’s not the interested-in-your-life type of dad. Well, until now.
“What big day?” I asked in an awkwardly high-pitched squeal, eyebrows arching as high as my forehead would allow. Could anyone tell I was seething on the inside? Was it me or was there actual steam billowing from my ears? My heart pounded. That had to be visible in the vein in my forehead that made its grand appearance every time I got mad. Right?
Tom and I had had very little interaction outside of the coffee incident. In fact, I tried to avoid him all together. His creeper tendencies had started to annoy me after the first week. Sending flowers and balloons to my home was uncalled for. Following me around set was even offensive. How’d he ever figure out where I lived anyway? What news could he possibly have to share with my family and Ali?
Why was Ali here for Tom’s big announcement? The thought just crossed my mind in that moment. Tom hated Ali. In fact, Ali hated Tom just as much, if not more. They had never even spent more than ten minutes in the same room before. I’m pretty sure it’s because her and I are so close. From my observations, we’re the only two women at the set that completely ignore the fact that Tom even existed. The tension in the air was as thick as a heavy rain in the dog days of summer. Add some mosquitoes and it was just as annoying.
“Tom said you two will be getting married, dear,” Mom said rather bluntly, pouring drinks for everyone in the room. Trusty old Mom. She is a heavy drinker. All she does around the house is drink and watch the soap operas. Every now and then she’ll have her book club over for tea and discussions. As a matter of fact, I haven’t seen those ladies in months. I don’t think she ever cooked, either. She’s always been on the liquid-lunch diet. She tended to leave everything for the nanny to do up until the day she left. I had been wondering why Dad lost so much weight. Makes sense now.
Mom never wanted me to work in the first place. According to her archaic philosophies, women graduated high school, got married to a man and had that man’s children. There was never even a college option. Then, those same women stayed home forever to take care of those kids, with the help of a nanny. End of story. No questions asked.
Mom has never believed in an educated, working woman. Needless to say, she’s not thrilled with the life I had chosen lead. I’d hate to demolish what little positive opinion she had of me by telling her the truth. Hell, she was livid the day I announced I’d been accepted into the university. I couldn’t imagine the hell I’d pay if she ever found out the truth. You should have been there for the “I quit ballet” talk.
To be honest, I’ve always loathed my mother and her special ways. I wished that I could just rebel against her. Unfortunately, if my actions were to hurt my mother they would also hurt my father. I would never want to do that to him on purpose. I’ve always wanted my dad to be proud of me. I just never seemed to be good enough for him. So, I would always just stick with whatever made them happy. And, what made Mom happy, made Dad happy. That way he wouldn’t have to deal with her shit.
I couldn’t tell them the truth about myself and I knew it. I couldn’t tell them what I really wanted from my life. I tried going down that road before, but it never worked in my favor. I couldn’t tell them about the person that I really loved. I’m lucky I survived my mother after I told her that I would be attending courses in a college.
There was no escaping Tom’s forcible entry into my life at this point. As everyone stood to hug me with congratulatory praises—except for my mom—I tragically collapsed into their embraces with my eyes closed and fists clenched tight. I had to figure out a way out of this.
CHAPTER 3
Why Would Anyone Purposefully Walk Straight Into Their Nightmare?
