by Lizzy Ford
“You’re right.” She snatches my phone out of my hand and starts scrolling through the contacts. “D for Dom.”
“Ari, no!” I shout.
She laughs and runs, scrolling and darting through parked cars.
“Ari!” I chase her, at first frantic and then laughing. How long has it been since I really laughed? Since Ari’s antics had penetrated the shell of pain around me? She holds up the phone and runs. “Ari, stop! I’m serious!”
“You’ve got more secrets!”
“No, I don’t!” I lunge for her, and she twists away then darts behind another car.
“I’m gonna call him unless you confess! You don’t have many numbers in here, and he’s one! You’ve been keeping so many things from me. I’m going to downgrade you from bestie to …” She looks down at the phone. “Oh, hello?”
Oh, my god. She’s actually called him!
“Ari!”
“I accidentally hit his contact.” She grins.
I snatch it, breathless, praying she hasn’t dialed Dom.
“Hello?” It’s his voice.
“What the hell, Ari?” I mouth. I glare at her and lower the phone so I can talk to him. “Hi, Dom. I’m sorry. Ari … accidentally –”
She grabs the phone. “Dom, this is Ari. Mia was my best friend, until she started keeping secrets –”
“Ari!” I try to grab it, but she pushes me away and gives me a warning look.
“Anyway, I know you’re busy, but can you send someone to pick us up?” Ari asks. “We, um, had to take a creative route out of campus because the press is blocking everything. Mia’s a rock star, you know.”
There’s a pause. I start to pace as she listens.
“No, we’re fine. We just can’t get home.” Another pause. “Corner of F and 22nd.” Pause. “Okay, thanks! Oh, will you be in uniform?”
I grab the phone and hang up. She smiles, happy with herself.
“That was a shitty thing to do!” I tell her. “Why would you do that?”
“We need a ride. Come on. He’s on his way.”
“Is he coming or sending someone else?” I demand, not following.
“Does it matter?”
“No. Yes.”
She turns to face me, eyeing me again. I roll my eyes and march past her, towards the corner she mentioned.
“It does matter, doesn’t it?” she demands. “I knew you were keeping another secret!”
“There’s no secret, Ari. He’s a nice guy, and he’s helped me so much already. It’s a lot to ask after everything he’s done.”
“You can’t let him see you with your hair like that.”
Automatically, my hands go up.
She laughs.
I realize she’s tricked me and my face grows warm. “Really, Ari. I’m in no shape to be interested in any guy. I still can’t sleep at night without remembering … everything.”
“You have his number saved in your phone.”
“He’s a good person, but I don’t think I can ever trust any man again,” I say with more feeling than I intend. My face grows warner.
“There are good people out there,” Ari insists. “You and I, for example. Pretty much no one in your family, though. Sorry.”
I laugh. It’s wrong, but Ari has a way of helping me laugh when I need it, usually about things we shouldn’t be laughing about.
We walk to the corner. I keep waiting for the paparazzi to find us. It’s the first time I’ve been alone and exposed, and I don’t like how this feels, especially now that the world knows about Robert. If the world knows, then so do Robert and Madison. What if they try to hurt me again? What if they try to keep me from testifying? If they come after me, Ari can’t fight them off, and I’ll either run or cry so hard, I trip, and they’ll catch me.
I gaze around me, expecting to see the two monsters lurking in alleys or stalking me in cars.
I’ve been watching too much television lately, I realize and shake my head. I don’t even know where we are right now. No one else can find me!
“Are you freaking out?” Ari asks, looking at me.
“Just worried about what happens now,” I admit. “I mean, it was different when only a few people knew the truth. I feel like I’m on a roller coaster. Things get quiet, then all hell breaks loose again.”
“I can’t believe you told your dad no.”
“I did,” I say, conflicted about defying my father, despite knowing I made the right choice. There’s no chance of me winning his approval now. But why does that matter at all?
“That’s the single bravest thing you have ever done.” She’s grinning again. “Your dad has always been mean to you.” Ari lowers her voice. “Your sister and brother, too.”
Perplexed, I study her. Sometimes I feel like everyone else understands my family better than I do.
“How …” I ask. As soon as the word leaves my mouth, I get it. Before the disastrous turn my life took, my sister barely spoke to me and never had anything good to say when she did. Now, I think of calling her to talk whenever I’m having a bad day. “She’s not that bad anymore.” My brother, however, is a different story. I have no idea what to think of Joseph.
“Good. Your family should be dysfunctional everywhere but with you. You deserve better,” Ari says.
“You’ve been my only friend, Ari. Always,” I say with mixed feelings. I’m grateful for her – but sometimes, I feel like I’m missing something. I don’t know what that would be, though, since this life is all I’ve known for eighteen years.
Before I can ask her what normal is for people outside my family, a police vehicle rolls up to the stop sign, and a window rolls down.
I feel like running again. This time, it’s because I’m afraid Dom will be upset with me for calling him for a ride after ignoring him for two weeks. My heart is pounding, and I purposely look at his shoulder instead of at his face and the brown eyes that always anchor me.
Ari has the sense to remove her grin.
“Hop in,” says the police officer in the passenger seat.
I open the door and get in. Ari slides in beside me. I meet Dom’s dark gaze in the rearview mirror then hastily look away. My ears are burning, and I grip my phone harder.
“I’m so sorry,” I start. “Thank you for coming.”
“No problem.”
“It’s insane over there,” Ari says. “Which one of you is Dom?”
I glare at her. She knows very well who Dom is! She saw his picture on the news, along with Keisha’s after the incident.
Dom lifts his hand from the steering wheel then puts the car into gear and pulls away from the curb.
No one speaks. I want to apologize again.
“He’s quiet,” Ari whispers to me.
“He’s a professional,” I retort. “What did you expect?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never been in a cop car before!”
“I’m really, really sorry, Dom,” I say more loudly. “And … Dom’s partner.”
“Eric,” the cop in the passenger seat says, twisting to look at us. He’s smiling. “It’s not a problem, ma’am.”
“Hello, Eric and Dom,” Ari says. “Have either of you ever been shot?”
My face feels hot. The two police officers laugh.
“Neither of us has,” Eric says. “Dom’s brother’s been shot three times.”
“Three?” Ari echoes in surprise. “Did anyone tell him he’s supposed to shoot bad guys and not get shot?”
“I think he finally figured that out.” Eric is smiling.
Quiet falls over us. I can’t help thinking about how Dom’s boss tried to pressure me into naming Robert a few days after my rape and how, if he had wanted to, he could have thrown me in the back of a car like this. It’s scary to be riding where criminals do.
“There’s a lot more room back here than I expected,” Ari comments.
Eric’s look at Dom is amused, and Dom clears his throat. I can’t see his face. I’m afraid to look too
hard.
“I’m glad you called us,” Dom says and meets my gaze briefly.
“Well, I didn’t. I mean, I did, but it was an accident, and Ari actually dialed. So, technically, I don’t think …” I babble.
Ari elbows me. She’s grinning again.
I’ve never been so embarrassed.
“Accidental or not, I’m glad.” Dom is calm and smiling – not in an amused way where he’s making fun of my gibberish, but warmly. Genuine. One of the only genuine people I know.
I’m humiliated and also relieved to be around someone I know I can trust again.
Although, if Ari doesn’t stop smiling like that, I’m going to punch her.
3
No one speaks again for five minutes. It’s killing me.
“Say something,” Ari hisses and pokes me. “This is so awkward.”
“This was all you,” I whisper.
She snatches my phone again. I try to grab it back. She pushes me away, and I stop short of tackling her the way I would elsewhere when I realize we’re making a scene.
Ari scrolls through my phone.
“You have his number in your phone!” she insists again in a perplexed whisper. “If you aren’t friends, why is it there?”
“Ari! Stop it!”
“You’ve only got six numbers in your phone: me, Lauren, Molly, your Mom, Chris, and Dom. You don’t even have your dad’s number.” She holds up the phone, as if I don’t know who’s there.
“I deleted his! My daddy’s an asshole!” I hiss back and grab my phone. “We should’ve walked!”
“You made the right call, Ari.” Dom’s voice is calm. “You’ve got a good head on your shoulders.”
To my surprise, Ari smiles and sits back, behaving like a normal person, for the first time today. I’ve never seen anyone say something that she accepted this readily. I want to ask him how he can say so little and calm down hyperactive Ari or me in the middle of one of my meltdowns. It’s a neat trick, one I wish I could learn. I didn’t realize he was doing it so effectively with me, but the past two weeks of routine and relative calm have done much to clear my head. I can look back and see how crazy I must’ve seemed to everyone else, and how patient Dom always is with me. Nothing disturbs him, outside of my verbal statement, which was the only time I have ever seen him upset.
Ari is quiet the rest of the way to my house. Paparazzi are waiting at the gate. Dom puts on the lights of his car, and they part, snapping pictures.
“This is a circus,” Eric says.
“It was worse at school,” Ari replies.
The car stops in front of the stairs. I lean over to hug Ari. Dom opens the door, and I get out with another look at Ari. He closes the door, and I gaze up at him.
“Thanks. I’m so sorry,” I say. “I know you have a real job. Ari was just being Ari. She shouldn’t have done that. I mean, I know babysitting me is not exactly –” I don’t realize I’m babbling again until he interrupts me.
“You’re welcome.”
Just like that, I don’t know what to say. I have the urge for a defensive retort, but we kind of sort of have a truce. I’m supposed to be genuine, and so is he.
“Have a nice evening, Ms. Abbott-Renou.” His calm words are accompanied by a wink. Dom opens his door and gets into the car.
I watch them drive away, feeling as if I’m utterly alone again. The warmth and contentedness I experience with Ari and Dom, and watching them both drive away, makes me realize how alone I am the rest of the time.
I shake my head at last and go into the house. My phone vibrates, and I glance down at the screen.
WTH? Ari’s text slows my step.
You tell me!!!!!! I reply and then shove the phone in my purse.
The minute I step in the hallway leading to the study, I stop. Chris’s whole team – plus half a dozen more bodies – are moving between the offices and study. It looks like they’re in full swing planning their war.
I make my way through the throng to the study.
Chris is in his suit, minus a jacket, with paperwork, computers, tablets and notepads spread across the table. I enter and wait as he talks to someone. There was a time when I’d just interrupt, but now that I suspect what he’s doing, trying to sort out the mess today, I’m not about to bother him.
He glances up. I wave. He motions the lackey beside him away, passes off the tablet in his hand, and circles the study, stopping before me.
“How’d you get home?” he asks.
“We couldn’t get out through the main gates of school. Ari and I went out the side and hitched a ride home with the cops,” I reply.
“Don’t do that again.”
I suppress my snarky response and settle for rolling my eyes. “I take it shit hit the fan today.”
“I’ve got it handled.”
“Right.” I look at all the people and papers. “What happened?”
“Per your father’s request, I approached the Connors a couple of days ago to give them notice. They ended up deciding to set the stage by snagging the attention of the press,” Chris answers. “So Shea let something leak, and … mayhem.”
He’s always vague when he’s talking about work-related stuff. I don’t know why, but it does sound as if I’m right about what’s happening and why. We’re in a media feud with the Connors, and I’m in the middle. Again. “Just tell me what you want me to do, Chris,” I say.
“We’re sticking to our schedule. Finish the week at school. Next week, you’re out. I’ve got a back-up plan for getting you to and from school the rest of the week,” he says crisply and glances at his watch. “Right now, you need to leave for community service. It’ll take you awhile to get there.”
“You really want me to go out in this mess?” I ask, cringing. The thought of going to school when everyone knows, and then going to community service, makes me feel sick. The scrutiny of the world is going to be worse than before!
“Absolutely,” Shea says, joining us. “You’re making a statement.”
“What statement?” I demand. Something about her always irritates me. Maybe it’s because it’s her job to make me look like someone different than I am.
“That you have nothing to hide. People who tell the truth don’t hide. We need you visible.”
“Can’t I just tell people I’m telling the truth and then stay home?” I complain.
“How you act now is going to influence how the media handle you,” Shea replies.
The angry part of me wants to know why I should care about the media. But the new-me, who has been through all the shit the past few weeks, understands why. We need the media on our side. As much as I hate to admit it, and as much as I hate to play along, I understand Shea’s point.
When all this is over, I’m becoming a hermit in a castle somewhere.
“I hate the press,” I mutter.
“Get going,” Chris says and turns away. He gives quiet orders to his lackeys.
“Do me a favor and change first,” Shea adds, looking me up and down in disapproval.
I bite my tongue but listen to her. The past few weeks have given me some insight, if not appreciation, for the amount of effort it takes to be someone like Molly – always in the spotlight.
I change into more conservative clothing – long sleeved t-shirt and dark wash jeans. When I go downstairs and out front, there are two cars, and three Fabios. I clench my phone in my hand.
Will this ever be over?
Chris is right about it taking me a while to make it across town.
It takes all three Fabios to get me into the women’s center, and halfway through, one Fabio calls Chris to tell him we’ll need two more Fabios when I leave. I’m sure Ari’s father will be happy to help us with that. I don’t know where he gets these guys, but a billionaire like Ari’s father will be able to find more easily.
Outside of the crowd at the school, I’ve never seen so many press members anywhere at once. I’m shaking by the time I make it to my desk. The other w
omen in the office give me long looks, and I avoid their gazes.
My phone vibrates. Grateful for something to focus on other than what the people around me are thinking, I pull it out of my purse.
Dom didn’t say anything about you the whole trip home, Ari has texted.
Why would he? I told you – he’s a professional. I reply.
She doesn’t respond. When it comes to boys, we couldn’t be more different. And … I don’t know what exactly my status is with Dom. I want to be friends, but I’m afraid of everyone. I want to think we can be … something more. But I’m never going to date anyone ever again.
The problem isn’t where I stand with him. It’s where I stand with me. I don’t even know what I want and am less certain about what I can actually handle in my life.
Frustrated with myself, I set the cell aside and start inputting forms into the computer. I don’t want to venture out into the night once my time is up, not if I need five Fabios to get home. The crush of people is terrifying. What if one Fabio slips or falls or something? I’ll be trampled.
I’m stressed about my life spinning out of control again and begin wondering if Gianna will let me stay here in the scary dorms. My phone vibrates, and I look down, expecting to see Ari whining about something. It’s not her, and my heart skips a beat.
Only six contacts? Dom has texted.
Agitated, I reply quickly. Five now. You missed my birthday.
I put the phone away and ignore it for several hours. Talking to Dom stresses me out more than talking about Dom to Ari.
Only when I’m safely in the car with three Fabios, with another Fabio in a car ahead of us and two more Fabios in the car trailing, do I pull my cell out. Ari has texted half a dozen times, Dom once, and Molly once. Molly’s text makes me roll my eyes.
Dress more conservatively. You’ll be in the media for weeks. No more jeans.
I glance down. I thought I was doing better when I changed clothing at Shea’s request, but apparently not. I’m not going out in suits and dresses I can’t move in, if that’s what Molly wants.
I guess I was wrong. I really thought there was something between you, Ari has texted.
“Told you so, Ari,” I reply quietly.
