“On the other end of the pendulum was diabetic ketoacidosis. She would withhold insulin so that my sugars would go high. More than a day or two of that for an insulin dependent diabetic is really dangerous. But apart from restricting my intake of carbs, there wasn’t anything I could do.”
My heart ached for the boy Alex had been.
“Did she do stuff to Georgeanne, too?” My voice was a harsh whisper.
Alex shook his head, his muscles tense beneath my fingers.
“She knew Georgeanne would rat her out. She was verbally abusive, really nasty, but never physically harmed her.”
I wanted to shut my eyes against the images his words painted, but couldn’t, not as long as he was looking at me as if I was his lifeline.
“Why didn’t you tell anyone?”
“I had no one to tell.” His voice was soft, low.
“You said that Tripp got you out?” I asked softly. He nodded, a sharp, jerky motion of his head.
“Georgeanne left as soon as she was eighteen, but she wasn’t about to leave me alone. She made noise wherever she could, telling anyone in the system who would listen about what was going on with Karina and Joss. She made a few ripples, but everyone thought she was just troubled and angry from living in foster care for so long.”
He paused to suck in a breath. I didn’t interrupt.
“One day she laid out her case to a very young, very new social worker, one who had been a foster kid himself. He was the only one smart enough to wonder why Georgeanne would bother making a fuss now. She was eighteen; she wasn’t in the system anymore. What was it to her?”
“That was Tripp,” I guessed.
“That was Tripp.” Alex blinked, and his eyes came back into focus. “He was only ten years older than I was, but he took me in as a foster kid. Kept me out of trouble. Got Karina and Joss banned from ever fostering again.”
He turned his eyes to me, and the expression in them took my breath away.
“I’ve never told that to anyone. I never even had to tell Tripp, because Georgeanne told him most of it.” He said. Instead of looking at me like he was daring me to still love him, he seemed... calm.
“Now you know.” Still searching my face with his eyes, he reached out and tucked a strand of my sex snarled hair behind my ear. “And there’s nothing you can tell me that will make me think any differently of you. I promise you that, and I mean it.”
“I believe you.” I began to shake, and the nausea that I had been holding back during his story came back full force. I hadn’t eaten since lunch, so there was nothing to come up, but Alex grabbed his wastebasket and held it under my chin while I dry heaved, my entire body shaking violently.
He rubbed my back, the spot between my shoulder blades.
“See? You can even make me think you’re going to puke all over my bed. I’ll still love you.”
I froze when his word choice entered my poor bewildered brain. I turned to him with wide eyes, my lips glued shut. I couldn’t repeat it only to find that it had been a slip of the tongue.
“I love you, Serena.” His words were matter of fact, the intent clear.
I sat back, blinked—I was stunned.
“Silence isn’t exactly what I’d hoped for when I said that to you.” A hint of unease slithered through the cracks of his confidence. I opened my mouth to say something, then closed it again as the words escaped me.
“Okay. Let’s do it this way.” Placing the empty wastebasket on the ground, Alex pulled me into his lap. I buried my face in his chest, overwhelmed.
“Do you love me, Serena?” The patience in his voice was infinite. I sucked in a breath, then nodded. I knew I didn’t imagine the relieved breath that rounded his chest when I finally agreed.
“Do you trust me?”
Again I nodded, but he didn’t ask any more questions. I finally looked up to find him waiting, patiently.
“Alex, I want to tell you.” I wasn’t stalling for time. I really did want to tell him, since I’d finally clued in that telling someone simply meant sharing the burden.
“I’m not going to judge you.”
“I know.” It wasn’t that. The problem was that, after so many years of ingrained silence, the words simply wouldn’t come unglued.
“I’ll try, Alex. I will. But... not tonight.” The rest of the words were stuck in my throat. He sighed, and I was terrified that I had disappointed him. But rather than shove me out the door, he laid down on the bed with me still cradled in his arms.
“You’re right. That’s enough for one night.” Turning to his side, he pulled me into him, my face pressed against the hard planes of his chest.
“Thank you.” I whispered. He reached over with one arm and snapped off the light. I blinked at the sudden darkness, which wrapped around me like a hug.
“We’re made for each other.” His words were barely discernible, whispered into my hair.
I nodded, too tired to do anything else. Worming my way even more tightly into his arms, I savored his heat, his scent, knowing that with morning would come yet more repercussions from the secrets of my past.
Chapter Eleven
The morning was tense and awkward, no matter that we both visibly tried to make it anything but. As Alex brewed coffee in his tiny percolator, the fact remained that I know knew his secret... and he still didn’t know mine.
My heart was heavy when I slid on my shoes at his door. What if all of this angst was for nothing? What if we couldn’t make it work after all?
“Hey.” He said, catching me before I slipped out the door. I had refused Alex’s offer to drive me back to campus, saying that I wanted the exercise of the walk. We both knew that I needed to clear my head after the intensity of the night before, but Alex refrained from commenting on it, even as he followed me to the door, cupped my face in his hands, and kissed me on the lips, light and sweet.
“I’ll call you later, okay?” He said. A trickle of relief worked its way through me.
If this didn’t work, it wasn’t from lack of trying.
I had initially planned to head back to the dorm and crack my textbooks. But with Alex’s story turning over and over in my brain, I found I was too agitated to sit still. Finally I stripped out of my jeans and slid into the capris and long sleeved workout T-shirt that I usually wore to yoga.
I didn’t head for the students’ union building though. Instead I found myself at the massive university gym. The stale smells of old sweat and sneakers filled my nose as I swiped my student id, and as I booked one of the two punching bags for the next hour.
I’d thought I might get some strange looks as I grabbed a towel and strapped on the smallest pair of boxing gloves that the gym had. But everyone was too busy doing their own thing to pay any attention to me. My first few swings were self conscious, but after a few minutes my breath began to quicken, my heart rate sped up, and I forgot about everything except channeling my frustration and anger into the blows that I rained on the bag.
Thump. That was for Alex’s foster family. Thump. That was for Karina, his former foster mother.
Thump. That was for my mother. Thump. That was for my struggles trying to have a normal relationship.
Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump. Thump.
Those were all for him.
I could beat on the punching bag forever and never be rid of my anger at the man who had changed my life in the worst possible way. I wasn’t even ashamed to admit to myself that I wished the bag was him. That if I hit him hard enough, often enough, that he would understand what he had done to me.
“Serena?”
I startled when I heard my name, slamming into the bag with my back as I spun, my fists up and out. Maddy stood there, her hands palms out to show me she meant no harm.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to frighten you.” Her eyes were wide from my extreme reaction, but I saw a bit of respect in them too. “Nice form.”
She nodded to the bag, which was still swaying on its mooring. “You ever tried
kickboxing?”
Swiping the sweat from my forehead with the back of my hand, I shook my head, then bent to pick up my water bottle. The liquid was lukewarm by now, but still felt like heaven on my throat.
“No. I usually just run and practice yoga. Boxing is... it’s a new thing for me.” I thought of Alex’s story, of how Tripp had gotten him into boxing as a way to channel his rage.
That was part of it for me, definitely. But I also liked feeling stronger, like if someone tried something on me again I could fight back.
“Do you mind?” Maddy nodded to the basket of boxing gloves. I shook my head, indicating that she should go ahead.
She chose a pair, strapped them on, then turned to face the punching bag. I watched as she eyed the bag up like it the New Haven incarnation of Darth Vader, then let fly with a series of punches and kicks.
“Wow.” My mouth dropped as she pummeled the bag, looking like some kind of warrior princess. I was mesmerized, and I found myself lifting up onto my toes, anxious to try the kicks out for myself.
Finally, she stopped, bending over at the waist, sweat dripping to the floor. She looked up at my open mouthed expression and grinned.
“I’m pretending that the bag is Brett.” She was out of breath, but I heard the grim satisfaction in her tone. “Feels fucking awesome.”
Bouncing on my toes now, I eyed the bag. The punches were starting to feel natural, but the kicks added a whole new dynamic.
“Bend the knee that’s holding your weight, and drive upward from that.” Standing, Maddy pulled her gloves off and reached for her water bottle. “Think of the kick as coming from your entire body, not just your leg.”
I did as she said, eyeing the back with narrowed eyes. Trying to throw my entire weight behind it, I kicked. Like the first time Alex had strapped gloves on me, it was far from perfect, the bag moving only a little bit while the blow reverberated down my leg.
But Maddy was right. It felt fucking awesome.
“Again.” She urged me, and I attacked the bag. I kicked, kicked, punched, then kicked some more. At some point I heard a shout issue from my lips, but I was too intent on the power that came with the burn in my muscles as I poured every bit of strength I had into the blows.
Finally I couldn’t do it anymore. I hunched over, winded, my body turned to jelly. But when I looked at Maddy’s own sweaty face, when she again gave me that grin, I felt stronger than I ever had.
“Awesome,” She said, reaching for her gloves again. “My turn.”
I smiled back up at her, nodding in agreement.
Awesome.
***
“What the hell are you doing?” The dorm room had been empty when I’d left to shower off the sweat from the gym; when I returned, Kaylee was sitting cross legged on her bed, a bottle of vodka in her lap and her toothbrush cup in her hand. “Kaylee?”
She smiled up at me, and the curve of her lips was sad, sadder than I’d ever seen her. She sloshed vodka into her cup, then took a tiny sip, shuddering at the taste.
“I’m drinking. Duh.”
I nodded warily, dumping my shower caddy and damp towel on the floor and crossing to sit next to her on her bed.
“I see that.” I started carefully. Kaylee drank plenty, but always in a social context. “Uh... it’s five in the afternoon.”
“Yup.” Pinching her nose shut, Kaylee tilted her head back and chugged the rest of the vodka shot in her cup. She gagged once, her nose was unpinched, twisting her face up comically.
Despite her expression, I got the feeling that she wasn’t really in a joking mood.
“What’s going on?” I watched warily as she poured another shot into the cup. The liquid was viscous, a gelatinous river as it streamed from the bottle.
Again, I saw that sad smile, and again she shot the alcohol back.
“Have you ever had something that you wished you could tell people, but you can’t?”
Her words slapped me hard in the face, sending me reeling.
“Who are you talking about?” My voice was a whisper. She couldn’t be talking about me, she just couldn’t.
No one knew my secret.
She turned to face me, her eyes just beginning to look glassy as the effects of the vodka shots set in.
“I told you we all have our problems, right?” Sighing heavily, she screwed the lid on the bottle of vodka and tossed it to me. “Mine are just biting me in the ass right now. I just talked to my mom.” She added, catching my puzzled look.
I frowned, knowing that that couldn’t be good news. To say that Kaylee wasn’t on good terms with her family was an understatement. They knew where she was, where she went to school, but she never contacted them, and tried to avoid it if they made contact with her.
“I see.” I really didn’t. Just like I never talked about my high school years, Kaylee didn’t talk about her family.
She flopped back onto her pillow, her words beginning to slur, leading me to think that she’d already had a couple of shots before I’d entered our room.
“Joel was supposed to be my crazy fun before I faced the music.” Her words were thick, and a bit hard to understand. I leaned forward to listen, jostling the bottle of vodka as I did.
Kaylee pointed at it, her finger swinging lazily in the air.
“You should try some. This drinking at dinner time thing is kinda fun.” She giggled, covering her eyes with her arm, as she hummed a tuneless song.
It was on the tip of my tongue to refuse, but then I shrugged. Why not?
I knew I wasn’t the Serena I’d been in high school anymore. But I didn’t much want to be the prim girl she’d become, either.
I wanted to have some fun. And right now I wanted to have a couple of sympathy vodka shots with my best friend, just for the hell of it.
Unscrewing the lid of the bottle, I chugged back a mouthful and promptly gagged as the fire scorched the skin inside my throat.
“Gross.” I set the bottle aside, then flopped down at the foot of Kaylee’s bed, my head by her feet and my feet by her head.
“Serena?” Kaylee’s voice was soft, weighted down with alcohol. I grunted my response, since the hefty swig I’d taken was working its way through me as well, making me feel weighed down and lethargic.
“How do you do it? How do you move on?” Kaylee asked. I swallowed heavily, having no idea what to say. “From something that might come back to haunt you at any time? Can you even?”
“I don’t know.” Even without knowing what, exactly, she was talking about, this was the best answer I could give. “I’m not really the best one to ask. I’m a mess.”
Kaylee snorted out a laugh, rolling to her side. “Sister, you have no idea.” We lapsed into silence for a second, and my mind drifted to Felicity, to Bob... to Alex.
Alex’s past had left scars on him, but those scars didn’t define him the way mine did.
I didn’t know what I had to do to catch up with him, but I had to figure out something.
“I wish I wanted what they want for me.” Kaylee’s voice was getting softer, her breathing more even, and I could tell that she was drifting off. Quietly I got up, tugging the covers of her unmade bed up and over her.
“Serena?”
“Hmm?” I turned off all the lights except for the reading one clipped to my headboard. I’d catch up on my studying while she took a nap. I’d seen Kaylee sleep off a drunk before. I wouldn’t wake her.
“I want you to be happy. I don’t know if I can ever be, but you... Alex... he’s into you. So much.”
I dropped my heavy textbook onto my bed, turned and stared. Though Kaylee was on the very edge of sleep, her words were entirely lucid.
“I... how can you tell?” He’d told me he loved me the night before, but I still couldn’t quite believe it.
I didn’t know how it could possibly last, once he knew... once he knew everything.
“Stop sab.. sab... sabotaging yourself.” Kaylee yawned once, hugely, then flopped onto her st
omach and buried her face in her pillow.
Her last words before she fell asleep were muffled, but I still understood them well enough.
“No matter what happened before, you have a chance to be happy now. So what the fuck are you waiting for?”
***
Kaylee’s words were all but a dare, and they made me squirm. I tried to focus on my textbook, and instead found myself reaching for the bottle of vodka, mixing it in Kaylee’s cup with the remains of the flat two liter of lemon lime soda that we had in the room. It wasn’t very palatable, but I found I was liking the buzz that became stronger with every sip.
By nine that evening Kaylee had dozed off her bender and had gone off muttering about coffee. I was full of liquid courage and ready to do something about it. Picking up my phone, I typed out a quick text to Alex.
Whatcha doing?
His response was almost instantaneous.
Wondering what UR doing.
I grinned. As promised, he’d called earlier, but I’d still been contemplating what Kaylee had said and hadn’t answered.
Wanna come over?
I felt my heart begin a little tap dance in my chance when I realized what it was I was going to try to do.
Just back from practice. Let me shower quick and I’ll be over.
My nerves began a quick tap dance on my belly once he agreed to come over. Half of me was dying to see him, to relive that connection I’d felt when we’d finally had sex last night.
The other half... the other half of me was convinced that he would hear what I had to say, would cast me the look of disgust I remembered all too clearly from Felicity’s face, and would leave me alone with my pain.
To kill the time, I chugged another vodka with stale soda. I wasn’t sure I entirely liked the hazy feeling that was settling over me from the alcohol, but I knew that I wasn’t going to be able to spit this out on my own.
I didn’t think there was any shame in it. I was doing what I had to do to get through, just like I’d always done.
Even though I was waiting for it, the knock on the door still startled me. Nausea from nerves almost convinced me to ignore it, but the memory of Alex’s face the night before, as he told me his own tale, forced my feet to move.
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