I wondered how much worse my life could get.
The thought of leaving for college, which up until this point gave me angst, was refreshing and inviting. I could leave my old life behind and start anew. Why wait? I wanted to start now. Tonight. I returned Lisa’s call happy to accept her invitation.
At nine o’clock my doorbell rang. Since Mom didn’t know these girls, she wasn’t crazy about the idea of us leaving so late. She didn’t understand why we couldn’t just hang out at our house. The twins came in, met mom, and checked their makeup before we left.
I looked them over in their short skirts and tight, low cut shirts and felt out of place. They looked so glitzy; Lisa with blonde streaks through her hair and heavy eye makeup, and Lydia with bright red lipstick giving her lips a fuller illusion. There I was, in my jean shorts and black, lace trimmed tank top. I definitely didn’t belong.
Lydia drove with the windows down, music cranking. We all sang at the top of our lungs, until she parked the car. Our destination: the Bay Ridge bar scene.
“Are you sure we can get in?” I asked more than a little nervous.
“We’ve been going there all year,” Lisa answered. “I mean not every night, but often enough. Besides, they never proof.”
“Okay.”
“Once we’re in, act like you belong,” Lydia chimed in, “If you see someone looking at you suspiciously keep moving.”
“Got it.”
I couldn’t help but have a queasy stomach. I didn’t go clubbing or looking to get drunk. Every time I drank it turned out bad. Really bad. I didn’t know Lydia and Lisa well enough to trust they had my back if I needed them. But the time for backing out was long gone.
Uncertain of what I expected when we walked in, I knew this wasn’t it. We walked right through the door of the dimly lit bar and past a throng of people between the service area and the entrance. The music pounded so loud, I felt it in my throat. I wondered how anyone in here communicated. I watched as Lisa made her way past people and into the larger, less crowded, back area.
Lydia made her way through more slowly than her sister and stopped midway. She approached a tall good looking blond-haired guy, reached up on her tippy toes and gave him a quick kiss on the lips. He whispered, or most likely yelled something in her ear, and she turned to me, took my hand and pulled me close. Lydia introduced me to her friend John, who in turn introduced me to his not nearly as good looking, brown-haired friend, Mike.
Mike barely acknowledged me with a nod of his head before running off to speak to some heavily-made-up-skin-tight-short shorts wearing blonde. I felt relieved. At least I didn’t have to feel obligated to spend time with him. By the time I turned back to Lydia, she and John were pressed up against each other, lips and hands roaming all about.
Wishing I hadn’t come at all, I moved away from Lydia and slowly made my way to the bar. I leaned forward trying to get the bartender’s attention, when my heart stopped.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t have you tossed out for underage drinking.”
I spun around, eager to give my defense. I was innocent. I hadn’t done anything. Not yet. Not only had I not drank any alcoholic beverages, I hadn’t even ordered one.
“Well, Stephanie?”
I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t lie or talk my way out of this one. I stared wide eyed, open mouthed. “Mr. Dalton? What are you doing here?” I asked mortified.
He stood with his arms crossed and leaned in close, and smiled, “Relaxing. How about you?”
Of all the people I could possibly run into, why did it have to be a former teacher? Mr. Dalton taught Phys Ed at my high school for the last two years. He also happened to be one of the youngest and hottest teachers in the school.
“Mr. Dalton I . . . I . . . ” I felt like throwing up.
His blue eyes twinkled as he leaned in and spoke close to my ear, “Call me Dale. Mr. Dalton is a dead giveaway.”
“You won’t tell?” What a lame question.
“I didn’t say that. How about I order a coke and you can tell me why you’re here.”
“Just hanging out with my friends,” I smiled sheepishly.
“Your ‘friends’ seem to be otherwise occupied, and you look upset. That is a very dangerous combination.”
How right he was. I wished I could tell him how all I wanted to do was cry, and what a big mistake I made coming with two girls I hardly knew. But that would be even lamer than asking if he planned on telling on me. Why is there never a hole big enough for me to crawl into?
“I’m fine,” I said, none too convincingly.
He put his hand on my shoulder, “If you have a problem, you can talk to me. I’m a good listener, and I’ll try to help. Why don’t we go to the pizzeria next door where it’s nice and quiet?”
I shook my head, “I’d bore you. I really have nothing to say.”
For a brief moment I felt very flattered. All the girls in school vied for Mr. Dalton’s attention. His classes were the best. They were the most fun and exciting, and here I had his full consideration, which I could have traded for gold to any girl in school, and still I felt like such a loser.
I looked around to see if Lisa and Lydia had an inkling I was in trouble, but they were nowhere to be seen. I continued to search for them until I saw him sitting at the bar pounding down a bottle of beer. I felt my eyes cloud over.
Mr. Dalton had been watching me closely. He looked between Jordan and me, “Ah, now I understand,” he said as if he’d just been let in on a big secret. “Boyfriend trouble.”
“He’s not my boyfriend.” I snapped.
“Are you sure? Cause he’s been looking at me with daggers in his eyes since I approached you.”
“Believe me, I’m sure.” I hesitated a minute, “I’m ready to leave, so I’ll just go outside and call a cab,” I explained.
“Fine, I’ll wait with you, make sure no one bothers you,” he winked and with his arm around my shoulder, escorted me outside into the quiet of a busy street.
“You do know she’s underage, don’t you?”
Just when I thought I couldn’t feel lower or more defeated, here came Jordan, beer in hand, to ensure and magnify my humiliation.
“Ignore him,” I whispered.
Jordan grabbed my arm. “You’re not going anywhere with him.”
“Why don’t you mind your damn business!” I said as I yanked my arm free.
Again Jordan reached for me. This time Mr. Dalton interceded. He got between us, “I don’t think she wants you to do that,” he warned.
Ignoring Mr. Dalton completely Jordan tried to step around him to get to me, “Stephanie, we need to talk.”
“Buddy, why don’t you go back inside and leave her alone?” Now I noticed Mr. Dalton standing straighter, his chest out.
A few people spilled out from the bar and began to gather around, getting a better view of the entertainment.
“C’mon, just get out of my way,” Jordan tried to push past Mr. Dalton with his good arm.
I watched in horror as my former gym teacher grabbed him by his shirt collar, and shoved Jordan, stumbling back. “Get the hell out of here!” he warned.
I didn’t like the looks of this. I understood Mr. Dalton’s protective behavior. It wasn’t about attraction or hooking up. He just wanted to be certain I was in no danger. Seeing the intensity of the situation grow exponentially each moment, I knew I needed to intercede immediately. Too many times Jordan came to my rescue, and no matter how angry or hurt I felt, I owed him.
“It’s okay Mr. Dalton.” I said grabbing on to his arm so he would look at me, “He’s okay. He won’t hurt me,” I said with as much conviction as I could muster. At least not physically.
He shook his head, “You don’t have to talk to him. These stalker types are very dangerous.”
“He’s not a stalker.” I assured him. “He’s an old friend and he’s going through a rough patch right now. I’ll be fine, I promise.”
He s
hook his head. “I don’t like this, Stephanie.” He let out a long, loud breath. “Are you sure he’s okay?” He asked.
“Positive!” I smiled while pulling Jordan away.
Twenty-Nine
I pulled Jordan at least half a block before I turned back to make certain Mr. Dalton wasn’t still watching us. Once we were a safe distance away I stopped and called for a cab. After I hung up, I rambled on, scolding Jordan for his behavior and for embarrassing me.
“What the hell were you thinking?” I demanded.
“I couldn’t sit by and watch you buy into whatever line of crap that asshole was feeding you,” he defended himself.
“You’re kidding right? That ‘asshole,’ as you call him was one of my high school gym teachers.”
“That’s sexual harassment,” Jordan said taking a long swig of beer, finishing off the bottle.
“Why am I discussing this with you?” I kicked a brick wall, and then continued, “The only thing he did was try to find out what I was doing there before I got busted!”
I watched Jordan reach into his pocket and pull something very small from it. He popped the tiny pill into his mouth without the aid of any liquid to help it slide down.
I hadn’t even thought of it until now. The few times I knew he’d been drinking I didn’t have the presence of mind to ask if he stopped taking his medication. I just assumed he did.
“Was that a pain killer?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Are you kidding?” I shouted. “I thought when you had a drink, you skipped a dose or something. You shouldn’t be doing that.”
“I’m fine,” he insisted, “I only had one beer. I got there about ten minutes before you.”
The cab pulled up. I looked at him as I opened the rear door. I knew I shouldn’t care, I should just get in and leave him behind, but I couldn’t.
“Want a ride?”
Jordan nodded, then slid in the back after me. “We’ll be making two stops,” I told the driver.
“Just one,” he corrected. “I can walk home from your house.”
“That’s not a good idea.”
“We need to talk.”
The last thing I wanted was to go another round of stomp on my heart. “We said everything we needed to earlier. There’s nothing left to say.”
“I’m sorry.” Jordan reached for my hand, but I pulled it away before he could touch me.
“Don’t!” I gave him a warning look.
The cab pulled up in front of my house. Jordan paid the fare and sent it on its way as I climbed the steps to my front door. I glanced back at him before turning the key in the lock.
“You should’ve just gone home and called it a night,” I said.
“Please Stephanie, hear me out. I owe it to you.”
I shook my head telling myself not to listen, not to give in to him. I turned so I didn’t have to see him. I didn’t want to look into his eyes, because I knew too well they made me weak in the knees and I’d lose my resolve.
I glanced back to find him atop my steps a foot away from me. His dark eyes looked so calm and sad. They didn’t show a trace of the burning anger I saw earlier.
I opened the door and let him in.
My mother had been watching television in the living room. Thrilled I returned home earlier than she expected, and that I ditched my new friends, she turned in early so we could be alone.
“So what is it that’s so imperative?” I demanded.
I watched his eyes drop to the floor, his face serious. “Come sit,” he said taking a seat on the couch.
“I’d rather not.” I remained standing with my arms crossed over my chest.
“Just sit here.” He motioned to the spot next to him.
“Fine.” I rolled my eyes and sat down as far from him as I could.
Jordan looked down as he spoke, “About before,” he hesitated, “there’s something I didn’t say.”
“You know what? It’s fine. I understand.” I felt myself losing control of my emotions and I just wanted him to leave. I wanted this horrific day to finally end. I stood and walked to the front door, my hand on the knob. “You said more than enough.”
Jordan followed and placed his hand on mine. A wave of tiny tremors ran from my hand up to my head and down to my toes. I should have reacted quicker so he didn’t have a chance to touch me.
“I’m sorry.”
I wouldn’t look at him, I couldn’t. I kept my eyes down. “Whatever.”
“Look at me,” he tilted my chin up, “I didn’t mean what I said earlier.” Although guarded, he started to wear me down. “Stephanie, I swear, I don’t think you’re selfish or self-centered.” He took me by the hand and led me back to the couch.
I felt my eyes fill with tears. “You sounded pretty convincing.”
He nodded. “I meant to.” He ran his hand through his hair, “I wanted to hurt you. To push you away.”
I shifted away from him, into the arm of the couch and folded my arms across my chest again. “Job well done.”
“Try to understand, Stephanie. I’m barely holding on.”
“You’re the one who wanted to talk, I was more than happy to see you leave.” I snapped back. “In fact I still am.”
He let out a frustrated sigh, “You don’t get it. If I lost you . . . I couldn’t go on.”
I waited a bit before responding. I cleared my throat before I spoke and surprised myself with the words that followed. “I can’t promise nothing bad will ever happen again. But the risk isn’t worth keeping yourself cut off emotionally.”
“I don’t know what to do. I have so many questions. Why did it happen? Why did I live?”
I inched closer and placed my hand on his shoulder. “I know this is hard for you. Let me help you. That’s all I want.”
“I can’t.” He stood up and took a few steps away.
“Why not?”
“Because, I love you so much, it hurts.”
How long I waited to hear him say those three words. How I dreamed of this day. I envisioned the look on his face and the kiss that would follow, romantic music playing in the background. In no way shape or form did I ever expect it to happen as he crushed my spirit.
My heart thundered against my chest and tears threatened to fall. It sounded like good news, but felt more like an ending than a beginning. Frustration overwhelmed me. “I don’t understand Jordan, what is it you want? Time? Take it. Distance? Fine.”
“You were right. This is getting us nowhere,” he stood and headed toward the door.
“She’s dead, Jordan.” He froze. “I’m so sorry.” A stray tear broke from my eye, “I’m sorry it happened. I’m sorry this is so hard for you.” I reached out to him, hoping a simple touch would help accentuate my point. “But you’re still alive.”
“Stephanie,” he pulled away, “I can’t be with you. I can never be with you!”
Befuddled, I tried to respond in a way that put no pressure on him. “I’m not asking you to. I just want to be your friend.”
“C’mon, you know you’ll never be satisfied being just friends. You’ll always want more. You’ll scrutinize every interaction, every touch.”
“I heard you loud and clear earlier today, but you couldn’t leave it at that.” I dug my nails into my palms, hoping to create a pain worse than the one in my heart. “You had to create a scene and insist on coming back here, just to play me like some sort of yo-yo, and end on exactly the same note.”
He stood toe to toe with me and rested his hands on my shoulders. “I owed you this. You needed to know how I feel about you,” his voice cracked, “but you’re right, the bottom line is the same.”
“Great. I’m glad we cleared that up. You want me out of your life? You’ve got it. No problem. I’ve been stuck here far too long.”
I turned my back on him. I hoped the literal action would support the figurative one. I knew I had to break away from him. I had to put aside the dream with the enchanted ending, the white
horse and stone castle, and live in the real world. No matter how painful it promised to be.
“I do love you,” he tried to convince me.
I didn’t answer. I had nothing left to say. I felt his presence for a long while. I listened to him breathe, seeing his chest rise and fall with each breath, through my closed eyes. I wished he’d throw his arms around me in an attempt to soothe the ache in my heart. But it didn’t happen.
“I’m so sorry, Stephanie.”
Thirty
Sunday morning Maria knocked on my door ready for our standing Sunday brunch date. Every week we would go have brunch at a local diner and talk. Just the two of us. Once Rob came into the picture it became sacred. We both knew we could count on those few hours to ourselves.
She looked shocked to find me still in my pajamas lying in bed. It didn’t take long for her to catch on this was more than a simple disagreement.
“Did you oversleep?” She asked.
“No. I’m not going,” I answered.
“Are you sick?”
I shook my head. “I just don’t feel like going.”
“But you never miss Sunday brunch,” she said, surprised.
“Brunch is hereby cancelled indefinitely!” I snapped wanting to sound abrasive.
“Stephanie. Let me explain, I know you’ll understand why I didn’t say anything.” I heard something sad in her voice, sorrow, perhaps regret.
“Get the hell out of here!” I rolled over so my back was to her. “And don’t come back!”
I intended for my words to wound her and hoped I’d succeeded. For several minutes there were no sounds of movement. I didn’t turn to see for sure, but I felt her eyes on my back. Finally I heard her slow, plodding footsteps move away. She left, shutting the door behind her, only to make way for my mother.
Mom didn’t bother knocking which was unlike her. We had a firm understanding and respect for one another’s privacy. She just walked right in carrying a bundle of folded laundry.
I remained on my side, facing the wall, leaving my mother with a clear view of my back. She didn’t say anything. She didn’t need to. I got the hint she was upset when my clothes landed on my head.
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