by N. K. Smith
I asked what was wrong, but she would always reply that it was nothing.
Today was decent. She was moderately affectionate and not in a sexual way. We were flipping through college brochures. I’d convinced her that she should at least see if there were any that looked interesting.
She seemed like she was interested in photography and had mentioned culinary arts once, but I thought it was just to appease me.
We were listening to music and were having an enjoyable time. The iPod was on shuffle, so there was no telling which song would play next, but when the music changed, she stiffened. The transformation was instant, and I recognized it nearly as quickly.
“W-w-what is it?”
For a moment she couldn’t speak, and all she could seem to do was shake. Her flesh was raised and the hair on her arms was standing up. She was shivering like she was freezing. I didn’t know what was going on, but I wanted to comfort her. She was looking away from me. Her eyes seemed to be focused on some invisible spot in the corner of my room near the ceiling.
I moved my hand to gently brush her arm, but she flinched. It was more than a flinch really. It was more like a violent seizure. She gasped as her arms flew at me. I had enough time to react, and I was able to block my face from her hands as they ripped and clawed at the air.
“Fucking stop!”
Her voice.
Her voice was wrong. It was terrified and brutal.
I moved back and away from her. “SSSS-SSSophie?”
She blinked and then finally her eyes came into focus and she looked at me. She seemed not to recognize me at first, but then I could see the acknowledgement dawn. This did nothing to relieve the pain etched on her face or the tension in her body.
“Turn this fucking song off!”
I felt frozen even though I wanted to comply quickly.
“Turn it off now!”
I tried to climb over the bed to get to my iPod quicker, but she was in my way. My knee ended up pressing against her thigh and she jumped off the bed and roughly pulled the iPod from the system.
The music stopped abruptly.
She was clutching it tightly in her right hand and she looked like she didn’t know what to do with it. Her eyes danced across my room, passing over everything but taking in nothing.
Her arm shook while her body quaked. Her knuckles were white and finally she launched the little player at the bookshelf. Before I could even make it off the bed, she was at the door, both hands gripping the knob, trying desperately to open it.
She seemed so lost in her panic.
“I-i-it’s llllllocked.”
Although she became eerily still, she wasn’t over it. I watched as her shaking fingers moved to the lock and twisted it. With what seemed like false calm, she opened the door and then practically flew into the bathroom.
I heard the door slam shut and the lock click.
I heard her throw up.
I heard her beat something solid with what had to be her fists.
I heard her cry.
I wanted to go to her.
I wanted to comfort her.
I wanted to help heal her.
But instead I quietly left my room and found Robin reading in Stephen’s office.
My mind raced with things Robin needed to know, but I couldn’t even find the strength to pretend that I’d be able to say them.
“Sophie,” was all I said.
She looked up and the gentle smile she’d prepared for greeting slipped away.
I guessed my face told the rest of the story.
I watched as she made her way to the bathroom and knocked. I watched and heard as she asked Sophie if she could enter.
I retreated to my room when I heard the bathroom door finally unlock after long minutes of Sophie’s painful sobbing.
I found my iPod and plugged it in.
I deleted that song.
I wouldn’t miss it.
I never wanted to hear it again.
I left my door unlocked and cracked open. I wanted her to know that she was welcome to come back in as soon as she could. I didn’t want her to feel like I was closing her out.
When she entered, she didn’t look at me. She didn’t look at anything other than the floor. Her face was wet and pale. Her hair was a mess. She moved to me on the bed, sitting on her knees as she pulled my hand from my mouth.
“I’m okay,” she whispered, but I had my doubts.
She shifted and motioned for me to do the same until we were lying together, the covers pulled up and over our heads. Only a little light filtered through. The air was tight and stagnant.
“I’m sorry.” Her breath was minty.
“I-I-I d-d-deleted it.”
She said nothing and the heavy air settled over us. I squinted to see her face. Her eyes were closed and she was biting down on her bottom lip.
Little tears slipped from her pinched eyes.
Her breathing was slow and deliberate. The sound of it shook just like her body.
When she spoke, her voice was raspy and raw. “Bad things happened during that song.” I didn’t need her to tell me that. No one has that kind of reaction when good things happen during songs.
I held her tight and let her cry.
After long minutes, she pulled away.
“I-I-I lllllove you.”
She nodded, but didn’t return the sentiment. My panic rose when she headed for the door.
“Sophie?”
“I’m going home.” Her voice was emotionless. It was dead.
“I-I’ll d-drive you.”
She shook her head and wouldn’t look at me. I was worried.
“Sophie?”
“I want to go home,” she said. “I’m going to ask Wallace to drive me.”
As her hand twisted on the knob, I felt desperate to know that she was all right, that we were all right.
“I-I-I love you.”
She stopped and rested her head against the door jamb.
She turned, came back quickly to kiss my cheek, then left.
There were only a few days left of school and everyone’s excitement practically vibrated within the walls. Sophie had taken to not speaking much around anyone other than me, and even then she shied away from topics that required a lot of words.
It wasn’t the first time she’d been distant, and I understood. I didn’t know what repressed memory had surfaced during that song, but something horrible had been released.
She’d been at the house every night since, mainly to see Robin, but then she’d come to my room for a little while. She looked at my books and sat on my couch. She didn’t sit on my bed with me and I turned the music off as soon as I heard her soft knocks. She would kiss me goodnight, but wouldn’t let me drive her home. Robin usually did, or her father would pick her up.
She was fine with me still picking her up for school in the morning. Most of the time she just looked out of the window with her bag in her lap, but today her leg was bouncing. Up and down, up and down, up and down. Then her fingers started going back and forth, up and down like she was playing the piano.
“O-o-okay?” I asked when we were parked in our usual spot.
I heard her heavy breath. “Yeah.”
I didn’t believe her.
When she twisted to open the door, I stopped her with a light hand on her arm. “Sophie.”
“What, Elliott?” she asked, not turning around to look at me. Her voice was the same as it had been for days.
I couldn’t think of anything else to say, so I said, “I llllove you.”
She turned to me, her eyes searching mine for something. “Let’s drive, okay? We can just go and... I mean school’s almost out and...”
As nice as it s
ounded, and as much as I wanted to, I couldn’t just skip school. It wasn’t something I usually did and even though it was the end of the year, the students were still expected to attend.
“B-b-but w-what ab-bout ffffinals?”
Hope seemed to drain from her eyes as she nodded. She popped open the door, grabbed her bag and waited for me to do the same. We walked in together like usual and I saw her just in passing after first period, but she disappeared after that.
She wasn’t at lunch and Jane said she wasn’t in Photography either. After long minutes of panic, I left the cafeteria to look for her. I couldn’t find her anywhere until I entered Mr. Reese’s classroom, right before the bell rang.
She said hello, but wouldn’t look at me. Before I could ask her anything, Reese started class. I tried to hold her hand under the table, but she wouldn’t.
Fear gripped me.
I wanted to see her eyes. If I could, I’d be able to figure out what was happening to her.
The room darkened and a movie about community gardens played. Sophie’s fingers rapped out an irregular rhythm on the black Formica table.
I was really worried.
Her legs bounced on the stool.
When the movie ended, she was out of her seat and gone by the time the lights came back on, all I could see was the heel of her foot disappearing around the corner.
I was preoccupied in my last period. Mrs. Peters knew something was off, so she left me alone and restocked the books herself.
I left the library early to wait for Sophie by the gym, but she wasn’t there.
I finally found her sitting by my car.
“Sophie?”
I was nervous.
She looked up at me, but didn’t smile. Her eyes were dull and sort of sunken.
It was easy to see that she had just come down off of something.
I sat down next to her, my heart pounding. I thought she was past this. I wondered if I’d done something to cause her to get high.
Before I could ask, she spoke.
“Aiden had coke.”
My hands curled and I wanted to hit Aiden Montgomery.
“I ran into him. Literally.”
I thought about his hands on her as they collided.
“He showed me what he had. I didn’t ask, but he showed me and I wasn’t... I didn’t mean to... I didn’t want to buy any but I...”
I wanted to kill Aiden.
“I did and I fucking... it’s gone now and I’m sorry.”
She leaned into me and I wrapped my arm around her.
After a minute, I got her up and in the car. I took her to the diner and got her something to eat, and watched her take her blood sugar before I dropped her off at home. I didn’t leave until Mr. Young pulled in. All night I imagined myself knocking on Aiden’s front door.
His mother would answer and when he came to the door, he’d already know why I was there. I’d press him up against the side of his house and press my forearm against his neck until his face turned white and slightly blue.
He’d push at me, but I wouldn’t budge. I’d only let him go because I didn’t want to go to jail. I could’ve done it. Many times throughout the night, my keys were in my hands and I was ready to head to his house, but my feet never took me out of my room.
“I d-d-don’t understand. She’s b-been off all those t-th-things fffffor a llllong time. W-w-w-wwwhy now?”
It was only a half-truth question. I understood why she would have a relapse after remembering something terrible. I should’ve expected it, but if she truly hadn’t meant to buy coke, why did she? Even if what she said was true, and Aiden had showed it to her, why would she fall back into all of it?
“Because addicts use, Elliott. It’s their nature. No one but the addict can change that. The responsibility doesn’t fall on you.”
Dr. Emmanuel’s comment upset me. I hadn’t said anything about feeling responsible, even though I did. His response was presumptuous and it made me angry. It must have shown on my face.
“You’re going to deny that you feel your girlfriend’s sobriety rides on your shoulders?”
I huffed.
“You didn’t turn her into an addict and you have no control over whether or not she uses.”
“W-w-w-well, w-w-w-what am I supposed to do?”
He sighed and adjusted his glasses. “Support her when she needs support, and help her see when she needs help.”
I fumed for a few more minutes before letting it go and looking up at him in hope that he could help me with all of my emotions. “Ssssshe j-j-just r-r-r-remembered sssssomething. I th-think it had to d-do w-w-with r-r-r-r-r-r...” I sighed, then whispered the word, “rape.”
Dr. Emmanuel let out a sad sigh. “Well, if anything would cause a relapse, I think that would do it. Have you had sex with her?
I swallowed hard, but nodded. I wondered why he would ask me that now and so bluntly. There was no pretending that we were speaking about music. It didn’t take long to make the connection. “D-d-do you think that hhhhhhas sssssomething t-to d-do w-w-w-with the m-m-m-memory?”
“It would be hard to say. Do you think that?”
“W-w-w-we were llllllistening to m-m-music and b-b-besides, ssssshe’s had ssssex with o-o-o-other p-p-p-p...”
“While she was sober?”
I looked down at my lap. My fingernails were digging into the meat of my hands. “I-I-I d-d-d-d... I-I-I’m r-r-r-r-responsible fffffor that?”
“No. Whoever raped her is responsible for that.”
Sophie accompanied my family to D.C. She was the only reason I agreed to go. Everyone planned on shopping and Jane invited her. She said yes, so of course I went, too.
Since the day she got high, she had been much better. She smiled and her affection was appropriate and loving. She was still subdued, but it was better than before.
We all split up when we got there. I clutched her hand as if she could protect me from all of the people. Sophie and I went to a bookstore, but it was a big chain store. It didn’t have the same feel as the other one and Sophie was nowhere near as happy as she had been that day last fall.
We wandered around looking at a few books here and a few books there. Finally, Sophie pulled a couple from a shelf and moved to the attached coffee shop. I got us coffee while she sat down and flipped through the books as if she didn’t care about them.
When I came back, I found her with her legs pressed against her chest, her arms wrapped around them. I set our coffees down and just watched her.
“How could they do that?”
Her voice was troubled. God! She said “they.” I felt sick.
“I d-d-d-don’t kn-know.”
“I mean, I was just a little girl. How could anyone do that?”
I wished I had the answers for her. “I d-don’t know.”
“It shouldn’t have happened.”
“Nnnno, it sssshouldn’t have.”
“Normal people don’t do that.”
“No.”
“Sometimes I wonder... I wonder who I’d be if...” She turned her face away from me. “I could’ve given you... I could’ve...”
I knew what she was trying to say and I appreciated the sentiment, but I didn’t want her to fixate on something like that. She couldn’t help what happened to her and there was nothing that could change it now.
“B-but mmmmaybe w-w-we wwwould’ve never mmmet. Mmmaybe you’d sssstill be in Tampa.”
Sophie brought her hands to her hair and she pulled. When she looked back up, she was crying. “The world’s so goddamn big and I’m so fucking small.”
I scooted my chair over to her. It made a loud scraping noise that I was sure drew attention, but I didn’t care.
I took her hands out of her ha
ir and held them. “I used t-to hhhhide under t-t-tables. I p-p-pretended n-n-n-no one c-could sssee me.”
She didn’t say anything, but she was still crying. I knew it would draw even more attention to us, but again, I didn’t care. I pushed my chair back and sat down under the table. I probably should’ve been freaked out because under the table was where people’s feet went and shoes were dirty, but Sophie was crying and I needed to do something.
When I was settled on the floor, I tugged on her hands until she was down there with me.
She buried her face in her arms, which were resting on her knees. She’d pulled them tight against her chest and was practically just a little ball. I moved so that each of my legs was on either side of her and rested my chin on her shoulder.
“Now you won’t get trampled, n-no matter hhhhow big the world is,” I whispered.
After a while, she sniffed and wiped her eyes. “They shouldn’t have done that to me,” she said again.
Just like before, I answered, “N-no, they shouldn’t have.”
We sat like that for a while until she said, “Everyone’s probably looking at us.”
They might have been, but that was what was nice about hiding under tables. No one could see us. At least we couldn’t see them. We were safe.
“N-no. They’re all d-drinking coffee.”
She shook her head, wiping her eyes once more. “No, I’m pretty sure we’re freaking them out. Two fucking weirdos under the table.”
I smiled. Her voice was lighter; not much, but enough. “I’m not a wwweirdo and neither are you. We just p-p-prefer to take our coffees under the table.”
“You barely stuttered,” she said as I reached my hand onto the table to get our coffees.
God, I loved her smile!
I handed her cup to her. “It’s easier when I wwwwwhisper.”
By the time we finished our coffees, it was time to meet back up with the others. We were all supposed to have lunch together. I climbed out first and then helped Sophie up.
She was right, of course; the people around us were staring, but I did my best to ignore them. I did it for two reasons: One, Sophie didn’t need to feel any other negative emotion right now; and two, if I thought about all the people looking at us and what they thought of us, I would probably have an attack. I needed to be the strong one right now.
