by Foster, Lily
The first Sunday after Christmas break, she met me at my house at noon. We were coming back to mid-trimester exams. Today we were studying for Global History and after putting in a solid hour, I closed my book and looked up at her. “I owe you lunch, Carolyn.”
“Why?”
“You give me Sundays out of the goodness of your heart. It’s above and beyond the call of duty. I owe you and I’m starving. Chinese or pizza?” I asked, holding up the phone.
She sat on my couch with her feet bare, dressed in sweats and a snug Westerly Volleyball tee shirt. Her hair was down and her glasses were perched halfway down the bridge of her nose. She looked exquisite. I swallowed as I stood there waiting, thinking to myself that she was the most adorable person on the planet.
“Pizza with mushrooms and peppers, please.”
“Very decisive. I like it, Miss Harris.”
We blew off studying while we waited for the delivery guy. I asked her about World War Three that was currently raging between Kerri and Samantha. Carolyn reported happily that they seemed to have arrived at a truce and things were returning back to normal, with Samantha even showing a nicer side to everyone. I doubted it. Then Carolyn asked me why Vanessa wasn’t around much lately, and while I would never tell her story, I did let Carolyn know that Vanessa was working every free minute she had, trying to sock away money so that she could move out right after graduation.
She commented as she stood in front of Andie’s sketches, “You know, I think about that old guy in your art class a lot.”
I teased, “I can understand that. He was pretty hot.”
She looked back over her shoulder, smiling. “Jerk. I meant that I think about how fearless he is. How all of the models who pose for you…they have no fear or shame.”
“Why should they be ashamed? The human body is beautiful, don’t you think?”
She moved back towards the couch and sat with her back against the arm again, facing me. “You know what I mean, Jeremy. I would be too self-conscious, I’d feel judged. But I admire them, you know? I wish I was free like that…that I didn’t care what everyone else thought.”
“Well,” I said, attempting to lighten the mood, “when you grow a pair of cojones, I’ll let Chuck know. My fellow artists would be thrilled to see you walking through the door in your robe.”
She raised her eyebrows and smiled. “Not happening.” She cocked her head to the side. “I’d love to see some of your sketches, though. Would you show me?”
The doorbell rang. Saved by the bell. First, I’d have to find a sketchbook that didn’t have at least one creepy, stalker-like drawing of Carolyn in it—that would be tough. Hell, I think I had one devoted entirely to her. “Sure,” I said absently as I went to grab cash out of a drawer, “someday.”
After I paid the delivery guy, I flopped back onto the couch beside her and we dug in. A few minutes later, with cheese dripping from her chin, she asked, “Why didn’t you speak to me, Jeremy? Why did you act like you didn’t know me?”
I leaned over and wiped her chin with a napkin, buying myself some time. “When exactly are you referring to?”
“I know, right?” she teased. “There were so many different times you ignored me. Let’s start with junior year. You remembered me, right?”
“I did remember you but I was kind of hoping that you’d forgotten me. Let’s face it, the last time I saw you I’d physically assaulted you and punched a teacher within the span of forty-eight hours. Not my finest moment.”
“Fair enough. How about this past September? Why did you ignore me after we came back to school?”
I took my time chewing. We were wading into muddy waters. “Um, I just…things were different once we got back to school.”
“So different that you couldn’t say hello?” she asked, timidly. When I didn’t answer right away, she asked, “Was it because you were looking to hook up with Samantha?”
“No,” I said, shaking my head with disgust. “I’ve never wanted Samantha. She just used to plop herself into my lap. She was nothing but a cock tease.” I shook my head. “Some of these girls are so…forward, you know? Samantha would think nothing of groping my junk at parties and whispering crude crap in my ear. She’s no different than a horny guy.”
That struck Carolyn as funny. “Samantha wanted to know if the rumors Taylor had spread about you were true.”
“What rumors?”
She shook her head as her cheeks reddened. “Nothing.”
I slid the pizza box out of her grasp as she reached for another slice. “Tell me or you starve.”
She blew out an exasperated breath. “Don’t make me say it, Jeremy. Just put it this way, it’s something every guy wants a reputation for.”
She went to reach for the pizza again but I blocked her hand. “Not good enough, Carolyn.”
She fell back against the couch cushions and covered her eyes with her forearm as she mumbled, “Taylor said you were huge, okay? Satisfied now?”
I laughed as I slid the pizza box back towards her. Carolyn scowled at me as she grabbed a slice and then angrily took a bite. A minute later she said in a quieter voice, “You never answered my question, Jeremy. Why did you treat me so badly?”
I turned away from her, staring straight ahead at the wall, focusing my gaze on Miles Davis. A full minute later I said, “I’m sorry for that. It’s just that when we got back to school you were with Drew again and seeing the two of you together…Talking to you just felt wrong, that’s all.”
“Why?”
“You just fit together, you and Drew. That’s what I thought at the time. He’s Joe Popular, on his way to high places, and you’re…I don’t know…the perfect girl.”
In response to that, she dropped her slice back into the box and then rocked forward holding her face in her hands. “What’s the matter, Carolyn? What did I say?”
She wouldn’t show me her face until I gently pried her fingers from the tight grasp they held; she was practically clawing at her own skin. “Hey, talk to me.”
She looked up at me, her eyes glassy with tears. “I’m not perfect. Drew always calls me that. I’m not perfect, I’m not pure, I’m not even…I’m not a virgin.”
“So what?”
“So he thinks I am,” she whispered.
I let that sink in for a minute before I said, confused, “Wait, you couldn’t date until you were sixteen and you’ve only dated Drew. So you were never with him?”
“How did you know that I couldn’t date until I was sixteen?”
“Locker room talk, nothing really.”
“That was a lie anyway.” When I said nothing she looked away from me and said, “I made that up so Drew would stop pressuring me.”
“Why didn’t you just tell him you weren’t interested?”
She looked back at me, a bitter expression marring her features. “Because apparently I’m not very good at saying no.”
Carolyn had her knees curled up into her chest with her forehead resting on them. “So who was it, then?” I reached over to her and placed my hand on her knee. “Only if you want to talk about it, Carolyn.”
She put her hand over mine, looking down, her head still resting on her other knee. Carolyn’s touch was soft but it was like she needed to touch someone, to anchor herself, to steel herself for what she was about to say. It broke my heart.
She took in a ragged breath and then looked up and met my gaze, shaky but determined. “It was the summer after freshman year. I was fourteen, nearly fifteen. I’d been going to this summer camp for academically gifted kids since I was ten.” She stopped to wipe her nose on a paper napkin and then said, “I really loved it there. The entire school year I’d look forward to going back. And that summer,” she cracked a crooked smile, “I was big time…a junior counselor.”
She uncurled her body and rested back down on the couch, nudging her bare toes underneath my thighs. “The junior and senior counselors had different privileges. We could be out later and we we
ren’t really supervised. It felt so good, you know?” She smiled for a moment at the memory.
“There was this senior counselor. He was the one everyone else was drawn to. He was good looking and athletic. Most kids there couldn’t throw a ball without looking like a complete spaz so he was like a star athlete. He was really smart—at least he made everyone else think he was—and he was smooth.” She shook her head as she said, “When I think about it now, he wasn’t cool, he was only cool by our standards. King of the nerds, you know?”
“He didn’t pay any attention to me right away and I would never have expected him to. By the end of the first month, though, I’d catch him staring at me. It made me nervous at first but then I started to look forward to any little crumb of attention he threw my way. I might be walking back to the cabins with my campers when he’d come along, wrap his arm around my shoulder and walk part of the way with me. Or he’d make a point of calling my name out and giving me a head nod as he passed by. Nothing at first but by the time six weeks had passed, he was making a point of pulling me aside when all of the counselors were out after hours. He might lean me up against a tree and gently press his body into mine or just sweetly whisper in my ear that he thought I was beautiful.”
When she stopped to wipe a stray tear from her cheek, I reached underneath me and pulled her feet onto my lap. She smiled at me for a moment and then asked, “Isn’t that stupid, that I was so desperate to be told I was beautiful?” She didn’t wait for my answer before continuing. “By the beginning of our last week there, he started laying the bullshit on thick and I fell for every cheesy line. But you know what? There was a part of me that knew…I knew he wasn’t genuine. But that night he led me out into the woods I didn’t listen to that voice. I felt so mature, so grown up the way he kissed me.” She laughed ruefully. “In my head I was already imagining how I’d brag about it to Samantha and Erica. Even Kerri, who wasn’t half as worldly as those two, had been kissed before. I always felt like an inexperienced baby in their presence.”
I could feel my body getting tense, knowing where she was going with this, preparing for what I assumed she was going to say. I cracked my knuckles and then took her feet again in my hands, rubbing them. She didn’t comment on it even though we’d never really touched one another like this before.
“So he’s kissing me. I pulled back when he started touching me and leading my hand to touch him. He’d just say, ‘You want this, Carolyn, just as much as I do’ and just like that,” she stopped to snap her fingers, “I clammed up and just went along with it.” She bit her lip and then said, “We didn’t have sex that night but we did…a lot. I was so ashamed and upset afterwards. He actually held me as I cried before he walked me back to my cabin late that night. He comforted me, so how could I think he was a bad guy, right?
“The next day I was shaking like a leaf, I could barely concentrate. I avoided him as much as possible. He approached me twice that day. Once to tell me how beautiful I was—I guess he knew that was my kryptonite—and once to tell me he couldn’t wait to see me later. I decided I wouldn’t go down to the bonfire with the other counselors after bed check that night but he intercepted me right before I was about to walk into my cabin. He was good, I’ll give him that. He acted hurt, like I was rejecting him by not coming along, and told me he was sorry that he’d done one particular thing that had upset me the night before.”
She stopped when she felt me squeeze her feet hard. I hadn’t even realized that I’d done it. “Is this too hard to listen to, Jeremy? I’m sorry. I don’t even know why I’m spilling all this. I’ve never said any of this out loud before.”
“No,” I said, shaking my head to reassure her. “Just the thought of some asshole forcing you…it makes me want to choke the fucker to death.”
“I think that’s the worst part, Jeremy.”
“What is?”
“That he didn’t force me.” Carolyn cried for a minute and I let her before reaching over and dragging her next to me so that I could hug her. She sat next to me then, curled up, her head resting on my chest. “He promised me he’d make it better that night. He told me he wanted to make me his. He was going to miss me so much. He was going away to college and was afraid he’d never see me again.
“I knew I should have stopped it right then but I didn’t. I took his hand when he offered it and I followed him like some mindless mute, you know? He didn’t waste any time that night. He started off kissing me but within two minutes he had my shorts pushed down around my knees. He asked me, Jeremy. He asked me first but it felt more like a command. ‘You want this, right? You want me?’ That’s what he kept repeating while he was…fucking me.”
“Fuck,” I practically blew out, shaking my head. I let go of her and pulled at my hair with both hands. I wanted to hurt someone in that moment. “He was going to college! He was probably eighteen, Carolyn. He raped you.”
She was comforting me then, rubbing my back. “He was wrong, Jeremy. He was a slimy bastard, I know that.” She leaned back against the couch cushions again, thinking, more composed. “What upsets me the most is that I didn’t tell him to stop. He was hurting me and I was silent. Why didn’t I stop him? Why didn’t I tell him to stop?”
“Because you were fourteen and he was eighteen. Even if he was only seventeen, that was so fucking wrong. You can’t tell me that you gave consent. I don’t care if you said nothing or if you nodded your head and went along. Any normal guy would know you were too young or that you were scared or uncomfortable.”
“It was all part of a game.”
“What?”
“It was a game for him. The day all the parents came to pick up, I was waiting with my campers and he was standing off to the side with a group of his buddies. They were all slapping his back and laughing with him. His last name is Henley and a few of them were calling him Hat Trick Henley. I heard one of them ask, ‘Which lovely young maiden gave you the hat trick?’ I looked up to see him gesturing towards me. Apparently I was the third girl he’d deflowered that summer.”
“What’s his first name?”
“Does it matter?” When I shrugged my shoulders, she said, “If it’s all the same, I’d rather never say it or hear it spoken again.”
“He’s a fucking pig, Carolyn. Someone should have made him pay.”
“I know that, Jeremy. I’ll never forgive him for what he did. But whether it makes sense to you or not, I do feel like I bear some of the blame. I’m still working on trying to forgive myself, you know?”
“You bear no blame. You have to know that,” I said pleading, incredulous.
“Jeremy,” she said, smiling weakly, “I’m working on it.”
It took a few days for Jeremy and me to get back to what our normal was. I’d burdened him with my story and now he looked as if he was shouldering my pain. But I didn’t feel the pain as much anymore. Telling him freed me. To tell someone who didn’t judge me or see me differently afterwards brought me peace. I told him all that as he sat across from me in the library on Tuesday afternoon.
“I just want to know one thing, Carolyn. All this time, why didn’t you ever tell Drew?”
I said the first thing that came into my head, “Because I don’t trust him.” And in that moment, it was as if I’d untangled a mangled mass of feelings and everything became clear.
It was the first week of February and I’d come to the decision that I was going to break up with Drew. The day I was planning to talk to him, though, was the same day he received a letter from the Naval Academy telling him he’d been wait-listed. So not only had he not been granted early admission, he wasn’t accepted outright from the general pool of applicants. This was not a good sign. He showed up at my house at around eleven that night, drunk, and cried in my arms as he relayed his father’s reaction—his father’s abject disappointment.
The days that followed were tense. I couldn’t comfort Drew. He was angry and sullen. If I suggested anything, any alternate plan, he’d bite back, tellin
g me I didn’t understand.
What made things even more uncomfortable was my acceptance into not only Yale, but Georgetown, Columbia and UPenn as well. “I guess it doesn’t matter if you pick Georgetown after all, Carolyn. I won’t be in Annapolis anyway so do what you want.” His resentment hung in the air every time we were together.
After about two weeks of the angry young man routine, I was fed up. After being told for the umpteenth time that I didn’t understand, I snapped, “You know what, Drew? I don’t understand. You’re acting like you have no options. You’ve been accepted elsewhere. You’ve been accepted to Princeton! And your father is acting like an absolute ass! He should be proud to have a son like you. Anyone else on the planet would be proud of you. But no, not Senior Petty Officer Oliver! Nothing is good enough for him! You both act like it’s all or nothing!”
He leveled me with a menacing look. “Don’t ever talk about my father that way, Carolyn. You don’t know shit about him or about what he’s been through, all right?”
His words and his tone stung. I let out a deep breath and spoke quietly then. “I just hate how he makes you feel…Like you’re a failure, Drew. You’re not a failure.”
He scoffed. “Everything’s easy for you, Carolyn. You hardly even study and you earn straight A’s. You pick some major based on a whim. Something that I can guarantee won’t earn you any real money. But who cares? What does it matter?”
“What the hell are you even talking about?”
“You have the luxury of saying it will all work out. No one has any expectations of you besides graduating from a top school, marrying a good guy and raising a family.”
