Begin Again

by Mulliner, Brittney

  “When I looked back after I was grabbed I saw Morgan—the tutor mom had hired to help me prepare for the SATs. He was about twenty and attended the University. He looked the part of the All-American boy—wavy blond hair, handsome face, dressed liked a prep school boy. He was well-known in Mom’s circle because he worked with charities in the community. He started coming over once a week last spring to get me ready in time for the SATs in the fall. By midsummer, he was coming more often. Mom ended up giving him a key and the access code to the security system so it would be easier for him to get in. At first he was strictly professional, but gradually he started acting like we were friends. He was older and in college so of course I wanted him to like me, I wanted to impress him. Around June is when he started making little advances, nothing too inappropriate, he would put his arm around me or hold my hand when we studied. I was uncomfortable since I was dating Derek, but I didn’t want to offend him.”

  I watch Brandon sitting on the counter staring at the floor. I didn’t want to make him angry and I knew if I continued he would be. He met my eye finally and shook his head. “I don’t like where this is going Aubrey. He violated your trust. You’re just a kid!”

  “That’s not all of it. Not even close . . . are you sure you want to know this?”

  He nodded and looked back down at the ground.

  “One afternoon he had been quizzing me for a little while so we took a break to get a snack. He came up from behind me when I was looking in the pantry and put his hands on my waist. He leaned against me and whispered, ‘I’ve been waiting for this for so long.’ Then turned me around and pushed me against the shelves. When I screamed he slapped me across the face, again and again. I started tasting blood. I tried hard to make some things drop to the floor to get someone’s attention, but no one came. He pressed himself against me and held my hands down to my side with his. I saw later that he had left bruises from holding my wrists so tight. He put his lips on my neck and slowly moved up. I tried twisting out of his grasp, but he only held tighter.”

  I shook my head trying to get the memory out of my head. I had to remind myself that I was safe and he was far away now.

  “He started kissing me. I couldn’t move, but I tried turning my head away. He didn’t like that. He grabbed me and shoved me against the shelf again a few times—so hard that a box fell from the top shelf. That made enough noise for one of the maids to come into the kitchen. Morgan heard her come in and finally released me. He walked back into the living room like nothing happened and I had to sit there for another hour with him until our session was over. That night I told Mom what happened, and shocker! She didn’t believe me. She said Morgan was recommended by all of her friends and I was making up stories. That I just wanted attention. She told me to never speak of it again since I could harm his reputation, or worse, her’s.”

  Brandon looked up and met my eyes. He looked pained from finally hearing this. “Aubrey, please stop. How did Mom not stop this? How was he allowed into your home?”

  “I know. I just told myself I was making a big deal out of nothing. He came back a few days later for another study session, and it started out fine. He didn’t say anything about what happened the last time and he sat on the couch opposite me. I was relieved and figured he got the message. After we finished he came and sat next to me. I was more comfortable since he seemed normal this time, but I was wrong.

  “He leaned toward me and pushed me down onto the couch. I tried to sit up, but he laid down on top of me pinning me in place. He started kissing me again, and his hands were all over me moving my clothes. I tried so hard to get him off of me. I started crying frustrated I couldn’t do anything—I really thought he was going to rape me.”

  “I’m so sorry. I wish you had told me sooner. I would have flown out and helped you.” Brandon kept his head down, staring at the floor. I felt horrible, but I knew he wanted me to finish.

  “I managed to get one arm free and I punched as hard as I could into his side.”

  He smiled slightly. “That’s my girl.”

  “Well, that only made him angry. He stood up and lifted me up before throwing me hard to the floor. He started shouting at me and kicked me in the stomach. I laid there praying someone would hear him and come in, but no one did. I looked at him and saw pure rage. I begged him to stop and to just leave. That set him off again and he punched me across my face. Once he realized what he had done it was like something in him switched. He grabbed his bag and left without saying one more word to me.”

  I paused when I realized I was shaking. This was the first time I had let myself think about what had happened and the memory was still fresh. Brandon came to my side and put an arm around my shoulders. I was determined to finish this and not let Morgan win so I started again before Brandon noticed how upset I was.

  “I went to Mom that night and showed her the bruises he gave me. Not that I could have even tried to hide it, half my face was swollen. Finally, Mom couldn’t ignore what I was saying anymore so she called our lawyer and had a restraining order placed against him. I was certain I would never see him again. This was happening at the same time I was receiving the notes and pictures, but I didn’t make the connection. The night of the party when he grabbed me in the garden I finally realized who my stalker was.”

  “Did mom notify the staff and security about the situation? Was anyone else looking out for you?”

  I shrugged. I had no idea how far Mom went to protect me. I didn’t want to be disappointed when I found out.

  “I’m sorry. I’m just so pissed Mom never told me what was going on. I’ll try not to interrupt.”

  “That’s almost the entire story. Morgan held me to him and I felt something prick my arm. I looked down and saw the syringe just as things went black. I woke up in my own bed the next day with Mom sitting next to me. She was crying asking me to forgive her for not listening to me before. I asked her what happened and she told me someone saw Morgan carrying me down the street from the house toward a car. They were leaving the party and recognized me, so they called for the security then the police. I guess they stopped him in time and they brought me back before he could do anything to me. Mom told me that he would be going to jail for a long time and that I had nothing else to worry about. She seemed so sincere then, but when you called she was so quick to get rid of me. I don’t understand how she could send me away when I needed her the most. Probably to minimize the bad publicity.”

  Relieved that it was finally all out I looked to Brandon as he let my words set in. “She loves you. I know that and I want you to know it too. She thought this would be the best way for you to recover and heal from everything that happened.”

  “She hasn’t called me once since I’ve been here. Why would I ever think she loves me if she can’t even call to check in on me?” The few tears that were caught in my eyes gave way to a flood. I wiped at them but gave up and allowed myself to openly sob. Brandon got off the counter and walked over to me. He put his arm around me and held me like I always wished my mom would. Finally, someone listened to me and cared about me.

  “I don’t want to justify her actions at all, but she’s probably scared. She let you down and she knows it. I’m sure she’s just waiting for you to reach out to her. I understand if you need time, but I know she misses you and is worried about you.” He kept rubbing my back as I slowed my sobs and caught my breath.

  “Thank you Brandon. I’m so grateful that you let me come here and that you actually listen to me. I love you.”

  He pulled me into a hug and whispered, “I love you, too.”

  The food came a few minutes later and we ate in a comfortable silence as we watched an action film Brandon had picked out. I felt closer to him after our conversation than I ever did with my mom or Neil.

  ☀☀☀

  The first time I brought up Morgan and what he was doing with my mother she was getting ready for another fundraising gala. I caught her as she was sitting at her vanity putting on
her jewelry. I watched for a moment wondering if she had even noticed I was upset when she and Neil came home earlier. Probably not. She finally noticed me behind her in the reflection of her mirror.

  “What is it, Aubrey?” She turned her face just slightly to make it seem like she was giving me her attention. I had caught onto that trick years ago.

  I tried to hold back my tears. “I don’t want Morgan coming over here anymore. He makes me uncomfortable.”

  She smirked as she looked down at her selection of jewels. “Why is that, darling?”

  I glared at the back of her head knowing she wasn’t paying attention to me. “He flirts a lot and he’s been touchy lately. I asked him to stop, but he doesn’t listen to me. I would like a different tutor.”

  She held up a pair of off ruby earrings then switched for diamonds. “Honey, he’s your tutor. I went through a lot to get him to agree to work with you. Morgan is a fine young man. Don’t flatter yourself.”

  I stood there frozen. She didn’t care, and worse she didn’t believe me. She spent all her time focused on keeping up appearances with strangers, yet she couldn’t give a second to her daughter.

  Neil came into the room to tell my mother it was time to leave. He was dressed in a designer tuxedo and looked every bit the renowned heart surgeon he was. He was a distinguished looking man with salt and pepper hair and an air of superiority.

  Neil took a brief look at my red rimmed eyes and turned back choosing to ignore what he saw. “We have to leave Katherine. I’m presenting tonight and we cannot be late.”

  I watched as he turned and descending the stairs feeling my hope going down with him. My mother patted my shoulder as she passed. She didn’t say goodbye or that we would discuss it later. I was already forgotten.

  Chapter 10

  I misjudged Mr. Cox. He looked and acted strict but the second day was the same as the first, only this time we got a ten minute lecture on the chapter we were covering that week then we were excused to work on the assignment for the rest of the period. Of course that meant talking until the bell rings for us. As Mike scooted his desk up next to mine I looked up and saw Sydney openly glaring at me. Didn’t she know her face was going to freeze like that if she didn’t relax?

  “Hey Study Buddy. How did you like your first day at this fine institution?”

  “It was alright. None of my classes have this one beat though.”

  “Of course not, this is the only class I’m in with you. Tell me about yourself, new girl.”

  I wasn’t sure how to respond to that. The only people that asked questions like that were adults usually in an interview setting.

  “I was born and raised in Chicago. My mom is the head of too many charities to keep track of and my stepfather is a heart surgeon. I have a younger sister, Peyton, who is my parents’ pride and joy.”

  “Where’s your dad?”

  His interruption startled me. I wasn’t used to people asking that, but I guess everyone back home knew.

  “He died when I was really little. I don’t remember him, and my mom remarried when I was still little. Neil is the only father I’ve known, but I’ve never called him dad. I guess I just followed my older brother. Brandon remembers our dad so when he kept using Neil’s name so did I.”

  “I’m sorry Aubrey. That sucks. Is Brandon the one you live with now?”

  “Yeah I’m sure you heard about him from the New Year’s party.”

  “Well now that all the informative and formal stuff is out of the way tell me about you. Did you leave any boys or friends or boyfriends behind?”

  “Not really. I don’t have a boyfriend. At least not anymore . . . We had an incident at my family’s Christmas party and I have sworn off men.”

  “Now that’s not fair, new girl! Don’t let some dirt bag ruin all of our chances. A girl like you shouldn’t be allowed to swear off the rest of us.”

  I didn’t have the nerve to ask him what he meant by ‘a girl like me’ so I ignored it. “You find me a good guy, Mike, someone honest and loyal and I will consider changing my mind.”

  “Done. You and I are going out on Friday.”

  I laughed despite his straight face. “Mighty sure of yourself. Are you positive you are the best choice as the representative for all men?”

  “Trust me Aubrey, I’m a true gentleman. And this doesn’t have to mean anything. I just want to show you how a girl like you deserves to be treated. Any loser who has a chance with you and ruins it should be committed.”

  I wasn’t sure how to reply to such a sincere compliment from someone who has the reputation of a player and class clown. “Alright, I’ll give you one chance.”

  For the rest of the class period we worked on our homework not discussing anything about my past or our date. I didn’t plan on wanting to go out with anyone. Especially with a new guy I barely knew, but it felt so easy with Mike. I wanted to trust him. I probably could have changed my mind and suffered a little teasing from Mike, but I needed to face my fears head on.

  I gathered my things before the bell rang and hurried to the gym not giving Mike the chance to catch up to me. I wanted to get changed and start stretching before the other girls got there. I slipped into my jazz pants, school t-shirt and carried my jazz shoes in with me.

  I watched as each girl walked in and could instantly tell whether or not they were going to be assessed or had been approved by Coach Sandra already based on their expressions. I was surprised when Sydney walked in looking anxious. I scooted closer to where Cassie was stretching and shot her a questioning look. She followed my gaze then gave me a mischievous smile.

  “I thought she was Ms. Pop Star.”

  “She thought so, but this past summer someone in the industry actually told her that she couldn’t sing without Auto-tune and had as much rhythm as a toddler playing the drums. Her agent recommended she take lessons but she fought it—obviously in denial—until now apparently.”

  “This just got so much better.”

  Coach walked in and got our attention. “Ladies I hope you’re ready for today. If you have already been in my class before and have been approved for the advance course please move to the front of the class and sit against the mirrors. If you are being assessed today please form three rows on the right side of the class. You will rotate so don’t bother trying to hide in the back. I will see you.”

  I was the first to stand so created the front row. Reluctantly, the others followed my lead. Little did Sandra—or Sydney—know: I have basically been in dance classes since I could stand on my own. My mother believed I needed the best training in all styles in order to live up to her—and sometimes my own—dream of being a professional dancer. I could handle anything Sandra could throw my way, especially since my previous team took nationals then competed in worlds taking second. I lived, slept, and breathed dance. It was who I was. I might be a tad rusty since I took a break over Christmas Vacation but I was sure it would come back quickly.

  “Alright we will start with something easy to warm up and let you get comfortable. If you are nervous, there is no way you could perform in front of a large audience so get over it now. We will start with a jazz walk across the floor.”

  I shifted my feet into position waiting with my right foot behind my left to be counted in as the music turned on, filling the room.

  “ . . . Five-six-seven-eight.”

  I watched the two girls behind me in the mirror miss the count in so they both stumbled to catch up. I really wasn’t trying to embarrass the others, I just wanted to prove myself to Sandra and get her attention. The other girls caught up by the time we reached the other side and I turned and smiled. They looked back at me nervously.

  “Breathe and smile. That’s most important. If you miss a count don’t let your face show it.”

  They both nodded looking slightly more confident.

  “Good, now I would like pirouettes across the floor. If you have advanced training now is the time to show it . . . Five-six-seven-
eight!”

  I started off toward the right side of the room. As I turned my head to spot I noticed the girl behind me was struggling doing left pirouettes. Poor girl. I finished and watched the rest of the girls finish.

  “Next we are going to do a jazz leap combination: sashay, leap, step, leap, step center. Got it?”

  I got into position waiting for the count when I heard the girls behind me whispering in a panicked hush. I turned to them trying to figure out what was going on.

  “What did she say?”

  “I don’t know what that is!”

  I leaned in toward the group. “I’ll go first just watch what I do. It’s basically three leaps.”

  They looked at me like I was speaking a different language. Maybe there was a purpose for the assessment after all. Sandra didn’t want to waste the girls’ time that already knew the fundamentals.

  “ . . . seven-eight.”

  I took two quick steps into sashay then performed the combination.

  I got to the other side and turned back.

  “That was lovely Aubrey. Thank you for showing the class.”

  She looked to the group of girls.

  “By show of hands how many of you need her to demonstrate that again. The majority of them shot their hands into the air. I noticed Sydney looking at me as if she was trying to burn a hole through my head. I smiled back.

  “Aubrey, would you mind showing them step-by-step?’

  I figured now was the time to get on her good side so I nodded. I took the next five minutes showing the girls the steps before Sandra announced it was time to start again.

  I watched with pride as the majority of them did really well. Except for Sydney, she struggled from the start.

  By the end of class Sandra had thinned out our group after she asked about ten girls to take a seat. They had struggled through each set of across the floors and would be transferred to the beginning class so they could learn the basics. Sydney was among them and she was fuming. Before we were told to change back into our street clothes she stormed out slamming lockers as she passed.