“Not stuffy. Posh,” she corrected. “It’s hot, believe me. You dress better than I do,” she finished, trying to keep it all light.
“Hey, if you want to make fun of me, today’s a good day. You’re pretty much guaranteed a get-out-of-jail-free card with me so go right ahead.”
Dress up…
Grr….
So, I like fashion. Shoot me.
“Dress up isn’t an insult. It’s a compliment. Your wardrobe is better than mine and you pull it off so much better than I can. Like…” She tugged on the lapel of my jacket. “This blazer. It makes me want to jump you right here.”
“Nice cover asshole,” I teased.
“Cover?” She pulled my head back so I’d face her. “I’m hurt.” She tugged at the blazer with both hands, pulling it just down my shoulders. “Here. Let me show you.” She took off her cardigan and turned me around, tugging the blazer off, making sure to use a little force. Then she spun the blazer around and effortlessly pulled it onto her arms. “See, not as good.” She modeled the blazer, turning slowly.
“On the contrary,” I said, sliding my hands onto the silk of the blazer and pulling her in. I moved my hand up to her face and forced her to kiss me again.
I liked her in my clothes.
I didn’t know it bothered her so much. I really liked her in my clothes. Like reeally really.
But we couldn’t fight today.
“You’re a little too good at undressing me,” I said, still reeling from that brisk brush at physical play.
She took my breath away and I cherished her.
“You know, I do like being taken care of by you. I can tell I pissed you off a little and I like it. I like getting you riled.” She smoothed the sleeves of the blazer and felt the silk. “I think I’ll wear this actually.” She looked up, eyes burning.
“Kiss me,” I asked, needing her. I loved her hands on my waist. I loved her liking me getting mad. I loved everything she did and said and I just wanted to feel that she was with me right now and not falling deep inside her head like she’d probably be doing in less than two hours from now once time and circumstance finally decided to take it’s toll.
She pushed her forehead into mine and kissed me, pushing me back into the wall. Not rough but insistent. Her hands moved in up my sides and down again. She kissed me over and over. She needed me too, it showed.
For her, my body was a cage she wanted to crawl inside. I felt shaken when she rattled me, reaching her hands through my bars, tickling all my demons and petting them too. She played at breaking in, all the time. Sometimes she flung the doors wide but times like this she just tickled at the idea and teased me since I wanted to feel her inside just as much as she wanted to be there.
“You’re so good to me baby,” I whispered as she touched me and played at my neck. I held her head close, my hand tight in her hair and I wished we could stay. Her entire strong scent was back. For the first time since the lodge she was really Avery again.
We had to leave though. There was no time.
We had time earlier but we took too long getting up and ready.
Now we needed to go.
“We can’t,” I said, wishing it were different.
“I know,” she said.
She stayed close to me though, touching my body and looking a little sad.
“I don’t want to go back,” she said. Her tone was flat. “But we need to do this.” She pushed off the wall behind me and kept my hand in hers. “Do you want your jacket back?” She looked at me with pleading eyes.
“I’ll find another one,” I shrugged.
“You can wear something of mine,” she suggested. “It’s kind of a neat idea. It’s silly, right? It just made me feel closer.”
“I’d love that,” I said. I was obviously into wearing her clothes and stealing her clothes and hiding her clothes. I thought that was painfully clear.
I didn’t think of it as fucking dress-up. And I didn’t feel like her clothes were anything other than hers so all her talk about my clothes not actually fitting kinda hurt.
I remembered that shirt I’d stolen. If I had it right now I would shove it in my face and sniff it just to prove a damn point.
Truth was, I secretly wanted all of her clothes. Especially her hoodies and especially the one she wore on that first day at the hotel because that hoodie was special to me and I’d always love her in that.
Her clothes smell like her and I know she’s worn them and I want to be hers. Wearing each other’s clothes is like having more shared secrets. It makes me happy. I like feeling hers.
It’s weird I guess…
I dunno…
Wearing her clothes isn’t something I’d feel weird about at all. Quite the opposite really. I’d most likely feel more at home.
“Okay,” she said, pleased, and agreeing to allow me to wear something of hers.
“Anything you want.” She chewed on her thumbnail, nerves starting to get to her. “I like wearing your shirt dresses.”
“This is good,” I said, taking a zip-up hoodie she had and not caring at all if I might get hot.
She was stalling now, I could tell. Talking about my shirt dresses?! No.
“Are you okay?” I asked, worried.
“Yeah, I’m okay.” She cocked her head to the side. “I’d just rather stand here and talk to you about wearing each other’s clothes, and how cute that is, than talk to a room full of officials.”
“It’s gonna be okay,” I said, moving my body into hers and pushing her up on the wall.
“I know. You’ll be there.”
She soaked me in for a moment more before starting for the door, pulling me by the hand. “Let’s get it over with.”
We took the stairs slowly and meandered out to the car.
My mom was very no nonsense today. I could tell she was in badass mode. It was just kind of funny because she didn't often get that way to protect me. At least I hadn’t seen it since I was very young.
“Say as little as possible,” she said. “When they ask you questions answer them with only the most important information. And don't hold anything important back.”
I wondered how Avery was doing.
My mother was giving her advice but it was all coming too fast and probably freaking Avery out.
I held Avery’s hand in my own and felt how warm and sweaty it was. She was nodding and saying uh-huh every now and then but she had almost become a drone.
I knew that feeling. I used to get that way with my mom when I was very young.
Sometimes my mother’s attempts at de-stressing could really stress a person out.
There’s a reason I learned how to be quiet and take my brain somewhere else as often as I could. If I wasn’t worried about pissing my mom off or being rude I’d just stick both my hands over Avery’s ears and hold them there so she couldn’t hear.
We pulled up to the school and parked. Getting out definitely felt strange. School was in session and under normal circumstances we would both be here anyway. Huntington was so… It was supposed to be perfect...
“I'll be with you the whole time, protecting you. On your side,” my mother said. She was holding Avery's hand now and leading her to the offices. She was so much better at being a mom with her, than she was with me, it was definitely weird to oversee. I seriously felt like the supervisor in the situation. How was it that I was the outside party here? If I wasn’t so worried about Avery I might have time to feel bitter.
There were cars in the parking lot but no people out except us.
I trailed behind them awkwardly and remembered seeing Ben on the fence that odd day. It was so long ago somehow, which was the weirdest thing to recognize over all.
I wondered where he was now. Did men really go to jail for things like this? Or was that a fucking myth?! It always seemed, from what I read, it was hard for men to get time for such crimes. Even when they did get time it usually wasn’t much.
No matter what, it was statutory ra
pe. No question there. No debate.
Unless he could falsely-prove that Avery was lying he would be slapped with some form of a sexual predator stamp. And he couldn’t be a teacher anymore, that was out.
He was in a position of authority and he abused that and sullied an entire institution. I thought of Ezra in Pretty Little Liars. I used to compare Ben to him. Not anymore.
Maybe somewhere overseas Ben could still teach but in the US he’d be out. Unlike everyone else though, I knew that Ben didn’t even want to be a teacher in the first place. He was only doing it to pay the bills and support his writing habit. I wondered if Avery knew that. We hadn’t talked about Ben in capacities that didn’t involve talking about his torture of her.
In her hoodie I felt closer to her, even though right now she was mentally distant. I shoved the sleeves up to my elbows and kept my hands in the pockets as I slowly walked the path I had taken before. My mom was all purpose but I was thinking and somewhere else.
I looked around the empty campus, noticing a few defiant strays, people who knew how to work the system and get out of class and breathe like Avery or me. A few of them locked eyes with us. I looked away, taking a deep breath in.
They probably didn’t know yet. I bet none of them knew.
Why would the administration blow the whistle on something that hadn't officially been discussed? They’d suspend Ben immediately, no question. But they wouldn’t inform parents yet or other teachers or the last to know, the people it most affected, the students like us.
As with everything else in the nation, the system is corrupt. Children cannot protect themselves against adults. It’s nearly impossible to do so and mostly adolescent minds and their convictions aren’t as strong as adults think they should be at times.
Walking inside now, I feel odd.
It isn't the same anymore.
Nothing is the same.
Ben had been my favorite teacher.
His classes had been my favorite.
And now they would both be run by strangers and I couldn’t help but wonder about his fate.
Why had he done it?
It just didn't make sense.
It was stupid but I wanted to talk to him.
I couldn't tell Avery. She'd freak out and get mad. She wouldn't understand. Plus, she'd be worried about me for even wanting to talk to him, let alone for just having thoughts that pertained to him- thoughts that didn’t just involve pure undiluted anger like hers.
In my mind, I was trying to push the wish to talk to him down. But I knew I'd find out how to reach him as soon as I got the chance. I just couldn’t do it with Avery around. That’d be tactless and stupid.
I wasn't ready before. I didn't know the whole truth. Now I knew everything and I needed to know why.
Why abuse her? Why be friends with me? Why spend so much time on these specific things?! Why risk your career? What if he really did think she needed him? How twisted...
Avery was addicting. Sex with Avery was intense and more than unique. Even now, we’d never once had sex the same so I got that in a way.
I understood why he'd single her out.
It wasn't like Avery thought. It had nothing to do with her being pathetic or her having no family or her being easy. All of those things weren’t true at all, for one.
For two, all of her thoughts about that seemed like crap to me. Insecurities taking over entirely. Shadows becoming her truth. When you fixate on a shadow you can see things inside of it, create monsters when there’s nothing there.
Like I understood why she would think those things but for Ben that could never be the whole truth.
Avery wasn't weak, she was a top dog. And all families are threatening, especially when someone in the military is involved.
Yes, it's true that my family is a lot more intimidating when it comes to not wanting to offend in an official capacity. But that wasn't it with Ben. I just knew it deep down. He'd have gone after Avery no matter who her parents were and what they did.
How did I know?
I fell in love with her. I understood.
I didn't choose her really. She definitely chose me, whether she meant to or not is the real fucking question.
The more I thought about our friendship and our commonalities, mine and Ben’s, the more disturbed I became. Being at school was making me do that. At school I usually thought about Ben the most out of all people. Not that I spent hours daydreaming. He was just the only person I consistently considered while on campus. And I don’t mean that sexually at all. I thought about his thoughts, I made a slot for him in my brain, a place that could wander, a space with just his name. I found us to be likeminded, intense, similar.
That had always been a sort of fear of mine from the start though. I knew I was like Ben in a lot of ways but I would never fucking hurt Avery like he did.
Just thinking of it all caused a sickness in me that wasn't easy to suppress.
I couldn’t even do a lot of the things to her that she could do to me…
“Olivia?” I’d been standing at a table, my gaze locked on the place I was used to seeing him most.
Avery noticed and sighed. I tried to mask it but it was obvious and she probably made the connection right away.
I ducked my head guiltily and kept moving on.
“Sorry,” I said, hastening my steps.
Out in front of the offices Avery’s dad stood, waiting for us. Foreign for him, he’d dressed up in dapper civilian clothing. I almost wished he’d worn his uniform for this just to make sure people knew that he was a noble man to be feared and respected. There were ticks in his physical ways, hints at being aware that he wasn’t in uniform today. It was cute, looking on.
From a safe distance I watched him hug Avery and greet my mom.
I sauntered up after and leaned into him with my body, letting him hug me and do all the work.
Ever since I’d put Avery’s hoodie on I’d had my hands in the pockets and it’d been hard to get me to want to take them out. I felt protected somehow.
“Wish it was a happier occasion,” her father said low.
“Don’t we all,” I concurred. My voice stretched along with my annoyance. The situation was more than unfun.
I leaned into him and loved that he felt like a sturdy rock.
We walked into the reception room and were led to another room with a large oval table. Everyone was already ready and sitting around it, everyone but us.
For some reason, I thought maybe they’d lied and Ben would be there.
When his face was no one of the faces we met with, I was glad.
I wanted to talk to him alone but I didn’t want Avery to ever have to face him again.
I wasn’t sure if we’d need court or if this officiation would be enough for straight sentencing. I hadn’t paid a lot of attention to every single step of a disaster such as this. A victim should never have to testify in front of their rapist but I knew that it happened and it was normal somehow.
To me, that rule was absurd. Why does it make any sense for a victim to have to call out their oppressor? That entire concept, in and of itself, is terrifying and nearly crippling in most cases, especially ones like this.
Instinct led me to wait by the door. I tried to sit on the end so that Avery’s dad could be next to her but I felt Avery’s fingers tug at my sleeve and pull me near.
“Vi,” she said, her eyes shaking as they found mine and insisted.
“Oh,” I said, caught. “Right.”
I sat down in the middle seat next to hers. Our parents boxed us in like strong sentinels. Avery’s dad sat next to me and my mom sat closest to the door next to Avery. I was jealous of her proximity to the door. From where I was, running away would be hard.
“First, I’d like to apologize-”
The Principal was doing his thing. He had a preamble, and a duty. I got that. That was all fine. He threw out words and sounded like a puppet.
Remorse.
Regret.
/> Standards.
Responsibility.
Duty.
Children.
Protection.
Blah blah blah.
While everyone else seemed to listen I looked around and noticed the faces and the positions. Avery’s dad was nervous. Avery was pretending to be involved.
My mom had her don’t fuck with me face on and I had to love her for that.
There was a woman off in the corner sitting calmly. I didn't recognize her but she was probably a counselor.
Paper Dolls [Book Three] Page 21
