After a long pause, Dean stood up and opened the door to the make-shift office. He then sat back down behind his desk.
“That’s new for you, isn’t it,” he asked and she suddenly felt exposed and stupid. “The whole seduction, flirting thing, that’s new. How’s it working out for you?” She said nothing. “You’re attractive, smart, interesting. You’re secure in yourself. You have a strong moral core, I’m pretty sure, so this isn’t you, is it?”
“What’s not me?”
“This...seductress. Why are you putting this on? It’s like an ill-fitting suit of clothes. What are you looking to gain?”
“I don’t know,” she said and he knew it was the truth. “I guess I thought I’d just try it out, see what it gets me.” He nodded, stood up and walked to the door again. She looked at the clock and realized their time was up. She gathered her backpack and purse. “I’m sorry,” she said, standing to leave. “I guess that was stupid.” He looked out into the hall. No one was around.
“It was only stupid because of the location,” he said quietly. “I appreciate the sentiment though.” She looked into his eyes. They were warm and understanding. She felt her palms begin to sweat and her heart pound faster.
“How old are you, Dean?” she asked him quietly.
“I’m twenty-two.”
“With a master’s? Most people don’t—”
“I’m sort of a Doogie Howser.” Annie looked confused. “Ask your folks. They’ll get the joke.” She shook her head. He smiled. “See you again tomorrow?”
“Sure.” She turned to go.
“Oh, hey, what’s the beach like here?” She turned back, her heart pounding again.
“It’s beautiful at sunset.”
“Maybe I’ll take a walk tonight. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Anne.” He waved, and she stepped out of his office. He closed the door behind her.
“Isn’t Dean just great?” Annie turned to see Molly Perth, a freshman. The poor girl was a mess. Thin, braces, still flat-chested, stringy hair. “He’s so kind, and smart, and... I just love him, don’t you?” Annie smiled at her and walked on to her locker.
She stood for a moment, replaying the end of the session. Did she just try to make a date with Dean Moore? Well, if so, was that a bad thing? What was happening to her?
She opened her locker and looked into the small mirror hanging on the door, then checked the dry-erase schedule beneath it. Nothing to do after school today. Good, she thought, I’ll have time to get home, shower, change and be fresh for tonight. She closed her locker and froze. Why did she need to be fresh? What was going on?
***
Once at home, Annie went to her room, curled up on her bed and took out her journal. She recorded her session with Dean with as much detail as she could remember, and then wrote, do I love him? Or is this just that psychology term—transference? Am I just transferring emotions of gratitude to Dean, and that makes it feel like love?
She wasn’t a sap like Molly or the other self-centered…weirdos, Dean had called them. She was just... He was comfortable and was just helping her sort out some things. Or was he? She took up her pen once more and let the words flow.
I first fell for Dean Moore after a counseling session trying to sort out my feelings about my best friend being murdered.
She stopped, shocked at what she’d written.
“Oh dear,” she said aloud. “That’s not a story that can end well, is it?”
She closed her journal and went down to dinner.
17
“All right,” Ellen said, after her second slug of whiskey. “I’ll be honest with you, because you asked me, and because I love you, and because…did you hear that part Annie? Because I love you so—”
“Fuck that, Ellen! “Just tell me!” Annie Stewart had never used that word in her life. Her friends were stunned.
“Fuck you, Annie!” Ellen countered. “Who are you anyway? Never mind all this home town, good girl, moral mind, heart of gold stuff. Everybody’s talking. How do we know you weren’t in on it with Parker and his…blood spree?” Annie couldn’t find one friendly face around her.
“Is that what you all think of me?” Yes, Annie read in their eyes, or thought she did. “You might as well tell me.” If the friendships were over in spirit, then they might as well be over in reality. “Come on. Tell me. If I’m as awful as you all think, then I can take whatever you have to dish out.”
“We all think that you, Annie Stewart,” Ellen opened, jumping to her feet and pointing an accusing finger, “are a class A, prime grade, blue ribbon bitch.” Annie steeled herself for more. But then Ellen staggered back a few steps, as if she were the one who took the punch. Then she threw herself at Annie. “I am so sorry,” Ellen sobbed, burying her face in Annie’s neck. “But I had to say…we all thought—”
“You all thought I slept with Parker, didn’t you? Tell me. I meant it. I need to know what you all really think of me.”
“That’s not it, Annie,” Ellen sniffled.
“Then what is it? Just tell me.” And so they did.
The floodgates opened. One by one, her friends spelled out changes they’d seen in her. Each and every one of them said she was angry, and edgy, and aloof. Annie felt angry, and edgy, but she didn’t know scared read as aloof. She honestly thought she’d kept all that hidden and had managed to put up a normal front, to keep the burden of guilt for Connie’s death tightly bound inside her. And yes, there was some concern about her relationship with Parker, so when the dust cleared, and they had all had their say, Annie took a chance.
“Has any of this come from Parker Levitt?” she asked.
“Well,” Ellen spoke for the group again, “there’s been some talk…” She then told Annie some things that Parker had said during his drunken confessions that had trickled back into town. “No one wants to believe it, Annie, but then again, how could we not?”
“Did you know I visited him at the prison?” That news had not traveled. “Well, after hearing what you’ve all had to say, I think I might be able to explain some of it.”
And so, at long last, Annie unburdened herself. Then, one by one, just as they had accused her, they each came and gave her a hug, some two at a time. Annie finally pulled away to catch her breath.
“Wow, it looks like I’m friends with a group of chronic huggers.” Everyone laughed. “I really am glad, though, that you all told me what you’ve been thinking. I didn’t mean to be distant. I just didn’t think…” She trailed off as tears filled her eyes.
“Didn’t think what, sweetie?” Ellen rubbed her back.
“I didn’t think…I didn’t want…”
“Want to what?”
“To complain.”
“Oh, Annie, if you can’t complain to your friends, then they’re not really your friends.” Ellen’s words opened Annie’s floodgate of tears, and another round of hugs ensued. When her tears had slowed, Annie decided to take another chance.
“I want to tell you all something, so you know in advance, so if anything comes back around…” Annie looked around pleadingly. “This time, would you please come to me and tell me first?”
And then she told them she intended to go back and see Parker again.
18
“I don’t even know what the term really means,” Annie said to Dean. She had decided to meet with him a couple of times a week for the rest of the school year.
“You’re referring to Ellen saying you’re best friends? Or Connie?”
“Connie. And she said it like she meant it, but I don’t know how I feel. I’m afraid maybe I just went along because it seemed like the right thing to do.”
“You don’t like to upset people, do you?” Dean said. During their sessions recently, he had made a few comments about her, observations that she felt were very accurate, and this was another one.
“No, not really, but does anyone really like upsetting others?” She was sincere, but he just shrugged. She’d caught on that he used this
as a counseling technique sometimes, asking questions but not answering hers. “I don’t think I subvert myself. I just don’t think there’s any need to be contrary just to be...contrary. I liked Connie, I loved her as a friend, so why not allow her to say we were best friends? It didn’t seem... I don’t know, it was harmless at first and then...”
It wasn’t easy to talk about Connie, and she completely avoided talking about Parker. She had confided in Dean—and admitted to herself finally—that she secretly wished Parker was the one who had been murdered.
“I love my friends. I have few close ones, but I love them all. I don’t think I could label one as best or better than the others, they’re all equal to me.”
He nodded, said hmmm occasionally, but otherwise listened quietly, his hands folded across his lap. Annie was quiet for a while, wondering what he was thinking. More specifically, what he was thinking of her.
“Did you love Parker Levitt?” he asked finally.
“What do you mean?” Annie didn’t know where he was going because his voice had betrayed nothing.
“I mean, did you love him as a friend, or as a lover?”
“We weren’t lovers,” she said a little too quickly. Dean raised his eyebrows. “I haven’t ever had a lover. Ever. He and I were...” She honestly didn’t know how to describe what she’d felt with Parker, and even though sometimes Dean’s silence was maddening, it also helped her. Being with him was almost like being alone, he didn’t push or feel the need to make conversation happen. He was almost invisible sometimes, but with him, she had a real feeling of comfort. “I told him I loved him,” she finally said out loud. “He gave me that book to read and he had all this passion and...we kissed…but we didn’t…I hadn’t...”
“Take your time, Anne.” She took a deep breath.
“OK. Parker and I kissed, and we talked—especially about the book—and we felt connected, also because of the book but...” She stopped.
“But...?” he gently encouraged.
“I don’t know, Dean,” she laughed, “I just don’t know. I thought I loved him and yet, the feeling vanished so easily. So I don’t know if I loved him.” She fell silent again. She had been struggling with her feelings about Parker for some time. “Okay, Dean. Answer this—how can I love someone and then suddenly wish they were dead? Is that normal?” Now he laughed.
“I love that question, ‘is that normal?’ Or, ‘does that make me crazy?’ Those are questions that can’t be answered. Normal is subjective, do you know what that means?” She narrowed her eyes and gave him a look. “Sorry, of course, you do.”
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. In any case, you saw something in him, felt something new and exciting when you were with him and so, you labeled it love. Now, you want him dead because he murdered your friend and killed a part of you too.” She thought about this.
He had killed a part of her, hadn’t he? Her love and security in the town was now dead. She wanted… No, she needed to leave. Parker Levitt had, in effect, murdered her innocence. Dean was right. Dean was smart. She looked at him, really looked. He was smart, and handsome, and...
“You’re pretty damned wonderful,” she said aloud. He dropped his head and smiled. “I know, I know, transference, right? Still, you’re pretty damn wonderful.” He sighed, looked into the distance for a moment, then spoke.
“You know, Anne, I don’t know about that. I’ve been going from place to place, tragedy to tragedy, for over a year. The sadness of the world, it just doesn’t seem to stop. People hurt each other in new and horrific ways all the time. I come into a new place, a school, office building, a town, set up my little room and listen. I offer what help I can but, the truth is, I have no real answers.” Annie sensed that Dean was opening up about something, sharing a personal part of himself, and she didn’t want to break the spell, so she stayed quiet, hoping he would continue, and he did.
“I used to think that I did. Have answers, I mean. When I finished school and got my first job, people starting telling me how good I was, how caring and comforting. I was at a high school back east and the mother of a child who had been beaten and killed by the football team because they thought he was gay, she... She told me that I brought comfort to her life. I believed her. I really did, and I wore that like a badge of honor. Then, I went to this insurance office where one of the workers had run amok with a shotgun. Killed five people, wounded a dozen and then, shot himself in the foyer before the police got there.” Annie’s eyes went wide, but she still didn’t say anything.
“That’s the hard part,” he continued, “when they kill themselves before the police can arrest them. When that happens, we have no way to know why they did it. That’s what troubles people the most, not knowing. Not being able to say, oh well, this happened because of money troubles or not being understood. Something. Anything they can use to make sense out of something completely senseless. There is nothing I can say or do to make sense out of Parker Levitt murdering your friend.” Dean sighed heavily. Annie wanted to reach out and hug him, to touch him, something, but she knew not to.
“In any case, right now, Anne, I have no idea what I’m doing and, honestly, it frightens me. You asked me what do you do when the one thing you based your life on gets torn from you and there is nothing to replace it. You, only nineteen years old, asked me that question and me, the expert counselor...person... I have no answer for you. And the reason I don’t is because I’ve been asking myself that same question for a very long time. I have no answer for myself so, how could I have an answer for you?”
“I’m not nineteen yet,” she said and he laughed.
“You’re okay, kid,” he said and the word kid stung her. She wasn’t a kid. She was an adult. He was speaking to her like an adult, being open with her, letting her see him for who he truly is. She was no kid, and she would not put up with that.
She stood, walked around to his side of the desk, and took one of his hands. She gave it a gentle squeeze, but he did not squeeze back. After a moment, it felt awkward, and she let go. His hand dropped back into his lap. He gave it a moment and then stuffed both hands in his jacket pockets. She didn’t know what to do. She felt stupid. But then Dean—wonderful Dean—stood and put an arm around her shoulder, and gave her a little half-hug.
“I’m not a kid,” she protested, leaning into his arm. “You’re not talking to me or treating me like a kid, so why say that?” He didn’t answer for a moment.
“Anne,” he said finally, softly, and she loved the way it made her feel. “You are fine, you know? You are handling this just fine. I’m not worried about you at all. This tragedy will be a memory for you but, it won’t define you. How you react to it, what you choose to do from here, that’s all up to you. That will define you. I fully believe you’re going to make good choices, and I’m thankful that I met you, actually. I really am. And I’m so—”
“Do not say flattered, please,” she said, turning away. “Saying that you’re flattered by my attention, that would be... just don’t.”
“I wasn’t going to,” he said, surprised by her outburst.
“Oh?” she said, feeling foolish again.
“I’m here for two more days and then I’m heading home.”
“Should I still come and see you?”
“You don’t need to, Anne.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze and then let go. “You’re fine, you do know that, right?” She nodded.
“But can I still come see you?” she asked and held her breath for an answer.
“Yes,” he said quietly.
“Dean, I want to hug you,” she said and he nodded. She stepped to him, and they faced each other for a moment. Then she slipped her arms up and around his shoulders and pulled him close. He placed his hands on her sides but did not wrap his arms around her. She leaned back and looked into his face. “Dean,” she said, half teasing, half scolding. He grinned and then wrapped his arms all the way around her and held her tight. She sighed. “That’s better,�
�� she whispered in his ear, “much better.”
They held each other for a long time not moving. Then she felt him stir and move away, but slowly. She started to move backward but allowed her cheek to touch his, stay close. Soon their lips were only millimeters apart. She wanted to press her mouth against his, but he pulled his head back.
“I’m not done here yet, Anne,” he said. “I’m still working for this school.”
She could see that he was struggling. Parker had easily deceived Connie, had dismissed her from his mind and then told Annie that he loved her. It was nothing to him, had cost him nothing. But Annie could hear in Dean’s voice and see in his eyes that a part of him wanted to kiss her. But he didn’t. Not because he could dismiss her as quickly as Parker had, but because of his position and his real concern for the other students. If the rumor had gone around that Dean had kissed her, all his work would be a sham. He would just be a guy who used his position and the situation to bed some young, confused, needy girl.
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