Paper Dolls [Book Three]

by Emma Chamberlain

  The Policemen, across from Avery’s dad, seemed tired- not yet awake. They had small coffees from the vending machine and they’d probably eaten Egg McMuffin’s from McDonald’s before slipping in. That comforted me. Unlike everyone else, they really made it feel like a routine. For us it wasn't routine but for me specifically it was somewhat comforting to know we weren't the only ones. It gave the entire episode more purpose. We were turning him in. Preventing a future horror for someone else.

  I was proud of that. It calmed me.

  It also calmed me to know that once this meeting was done a lot more people would know and Avery wouldn't be holding in this dangerous secret and dealing with her own private shame.

  I thought of Ben teaching up in his room and I sickly wondered: but what if he's still there?!

  Alarm bells rang in my mind but I shut my eyes and tried to shut that thought out.

  The Vice Principal seemed stressed and upset, she was female, probably more surprised and unhappy about this whole mess of a scandal than the Principal was. I'd talked to her a few times and really wondered why she wanted her job. She was a lot younger than most Vice Principals and she often showed how out of her element she was. The Principal obviously loved that about her, it made him look better comparatively. Nevertheless, THAT made me like her.

  The Principal seemed to be in his best PR setting. Which was exactly why I ignored every single fucking thing he said.

  It was predictable.

  I couldn’t even hate it. Not yet.

  I was worried but mostly for Avery. I was worried that she’d lied before and left other things out. I was worried about her dad having to hear, my mom having to know.

  Avery hadn’t been through a good time with Ben. Once her father found out he wasn’t going to be okay. He’d be filled up with regret.

  The only reason I survived it the other night was because I knew I needed to know. I’d gone too long with little scraps in my brain to work on.

  My curiosity was far worse than her reality. I’d read too many horrible things and seen too many sick television shows. Even with the details she gave me I could run too far. And that’s not to belittle her pain, her pain was/is immense. My brain is just sick.

  What Ben had done to her was horrible without question. But the things I could imagine him doing were more numbered and much much worse.

  Still I wondered about certain things. The tying up- and the cuts- and the bars. There were details I didn’t quite get, didn’t quite understand.

  And then there was Avery with her imagination and the things she saw in her head.

  I still wasn’t sure what to think about that woman with her. The one in her dreams, the one who sometimes touched her and sometimes just stood by and comforted her while bad things came to pass. It was hard to think that Avery just might not be okay, mentally. I put off thinking that and yet it was always there.

  Avery scared me sometimes. She scared me yesterday. She scared me a lot.

  It didn’t help, at all, that sometimes the things she said were almost otherworldly to me. She never explained them enough and my questions never quite got the right responses.

  She wanted me to understand, and I wanted to understand, but when I needed details she always gave me the wrong ones.

  She could repeat the same things over and over, things I was already sure of, but she couldn’t explain something I did not understand.

  It was hard with us in that way.

  Communication with us was a bit of a nightmare.

  On the plus side, we both tried to progress.

  On the minus side, we always caused each other to splinter.

  As I sat beside her, I held her hand beneath the table. All I could do now was try not to worry about what she might say now. I was scared I’d be hearing new things. Every time I asked her a question I got something a little different than the time I’d asked before. She didn’t mean to keep secrets but she always always did.

  New details could easily break me. I didn’t like thinking of him touching her in bad ways.

  It was going to be hard to be strong.

  Right now I felt fine.

  This was typical and normal and not at all stressful in anyway. I think I needed for it to feel this way. I needed for this to feel mundane. It really drove home the importance for me and it kept me, it did keep me calm.

  Soon though, there would be questions for her. And soon she would be nervous and her voice would shake.

  Soon her dad would be trying not to be beside himself with rage.

  Soon my mom would be doing the same.

  It was just one of those things. An unavoidable circumstance that would probably cause us all to eventually throw up.

  I held Avery’s hand and slowly ran my fingers up and down her arm to try and keep her calm.

  When the Principal finally shut up long enough for someone to rustle papers, I leaned in to whisper near Avery’s ear.

  “I love you…”

  It was going to start now and we couldn’t put it off anymore.

  I squeezed her hand tight and I hoped for the best.

  Chapter Eleven

  Avery

  People kept talking and I barely heard anything. I just focused on Olivia’s hand holding mine. Hers was cool and strong, holding me in place. Mine was hot and sweaty.

  She squeezed and I looked over and saw the Principal staring me down. Right, he’d been talking.

  “What? I'm sorry.”

  At least one of us was paying attention.

  “I asked you to describe the nature of your relationship with Mr. Bradford and to give us a detailed timeline.”

  “Oh, so starting off easy, huh?” I laughed nervously and only caught a few faces.

  The woman in the corner was intense.

  Olivia squeezed my hand lightly again. This time she was trying to calm me. I knew because I felt her thumb rub lovingly on my skin right afterward.

  I really didn't know where to start. These weren’t the type of things you could just say and feel normal about.

  “He helps out… Helped out on drama productions and that's where we started talking and then we started seeing each other outside of school. I guess we were dating or no… Just seeing each other. Having sex. It went from there.”

  “And how long did this go on?” Ashby asked.

  “A year,” I said, shrugging.

  “How did he help? What kinds of things did you talk about? Were you alone? Did you approach him or did he approach you?” One of the Policemen asked . They were trying to do it all at once.

  “One question at a time,” Olivia’s mother said grumpily to the police. Her tone was almost scary. You could tell she was a judge. “It's okay Avery,” she touched my arm and looked over at me, instantly softening. “Just answer what you can.”

  The Policeman looked at me but I couldn't tell what he was thinking. Only that he must see these kinds of cases all the time.

  “He approached me and we just started talking about the play and other theatre stuff. I'd never been in his classes so I didn't know him very well.”

  I put my other hand on the table, wishing that I had water or something that would give me a good reason to pause.

  “He started showing up outside swim practice and watching me sometimes. He would walk me to my car. One day he asked if I'd go somewhere with him. He ended up taking me to this diner.”

  The other Policeman took notes as I spoke, not even looking up.

  “That happened a few times before he took me to his house and we… Well, you know.”

  “We’re going to need you to be more detailed,” the first Policeman said.

  “We had sex. I don't know what kind of details you need. It's not like I remember every second of every time.”

  “How many times did you have sex with him?”

  I could see my dad shift in his chair. He wasn't looking at me. He was the only one, besides the Policeman taking notes, who wasn't.

  “Once a wee
k or so. Sometimes more, sometimes less.”

  “How many weeks? If you had to pick a number how many times would you say that you and Mr. Bradford had intercourse or partook in sexual acts?”

  The other Policeman spoke up too.

  “Did he ever scare you or pressure you? Was it always consensual? Did you ever say no?”

  “One! Question,” Olivia’s mom bit. It was an order not a choice. “One question. At- A- Time.” They were pissing her off.

  The lady in the corner just stared, watching me.

  “I'm sorry,” I said, distracted. “Why is she here?”

  Everyone followed my eyes to look over at the woman in the corner.

  “Mrs. Farrow is a counselor,” the Vice Principal spoke up. “Given the circumstance it's customary to have a counselor sit in. In case you should want to seek counsel. Sometimes it's easier for a victim to tell things to an impartial third party. We want you to have options Avery. We don't want this to be overwhelming or hard for you. We already know you’ve been through a lot and that this is trying.”

  Victim. I felt Olivia twitch and stiffen next to me at the sound of that word.

  “It's going to be overwhelming and hard no matter what you do or who you have here.”

  My leg bounced under the table and I fidgeted with my free hand. Even the one Olivia was holding wasn't still.

  “Can I have some water?” I asked.

  The Vice Principal walked over to the water cooler in the corner and took a paper cup filling it with water and passing it to me across the table.

  “We know this is difficult, Avery. We just want to help and make sure that we have all the details correct. If there are discrepancies between your accounts then we need to have your story be clear,” Ashby said.

  “Okay then,” Olivia said agitated. Her words quieted everyone. “Why don’t you just let her talk.”

  “And who are you to Miss Lockhart exactly,” the officer taking notes asked.

  “She’s her fiancé,” Olivia’s mother said flatly. “She’s also a witness and willing to testify in court. She also goes to this school and was close with Mr. Bradford. And she’s also my daughter.”

  That got some odd looks. I almost laughed. They all looked like their minds had been blown. Well, except Dad’s. He just looked over at Liz in solidarity.

  “Can we just get back to the point,” I groused. “It was probably at least twice a month for ten months. It was consensual and I never said no.”

  I just wanted it done. If this kept him from teaching good. The rest didn't seem worth the pain of telling a room full of family and strangers my deepest darkest secrets.

  “That's not true,” Olivia muttered.

  I jerked my head around to look at her. She was doing what I asked her to even though I didn't want her to now. I was weak and she was trying to help.

  “On the ski trip he tried to force me to have sex with him but I got away,” I offered. “Olivia heard it.”

  “It was more complicated than that,” Olivia said. “On the ski trip I heard her screaming for help behind his locked door. That goes far beyond saying no.”

  She moved in her seat and reached to grab something from her purse. When I caught sight of it I tried to grab it from her but my dad took it.

  “What are you doing?!” I asked angrily. “Olivia?! What the hell?!”

  She pushed her chair out and walked around to the other side of my dad. I watched her pull the journal away and open to a page. She leaned over the table and set the journal down in front of the police and left it there.

  I watched them reading.

  She leaned her hands down on the edge of the table. I could tell she was upset. She started to talk.

  “There were times when she did say no. There were also times when she wanted to say no but she didn’t because she didn’t know how of that it would have any effect other than negative. Who knows though, maybe she did and he didn’t even listen but she didn’t want to tell me that. I can’t presume to know what she doesn’t want to say. These aren’t happy things. It makes sense to want to keep them inside. But I know that last part was a lie. I heard her say no and cry for help behind a locked door on a school trip. I saw things I shouldn’t have seen. There was violence. There was manipulation. She might hate me right now for talking and giving you that but I can’t just sit here and pretend Ben was an innocent man when he hurt her physically and more than once.”

  The Policemen were looking down at my own personal hell in written form and Olivia had given it to them.

  Speaking up was different than turning over my personal journal without asking me. I was beyond angry. I never thought I could feel this way about something she had done.

  “Why?” I spat.

  “You’re not talking,” she said, anger brimming as she stared at me straight. “Fine!” She yelled, scaring me. She stalked back to the men and ripped the journal away quicker than she’d placed it there for them to see.

  She walked out of the room and left me there. The sound of her heels on the floor were intense.

  I heard something hard from the distance. A popping noise. Like maybe she punched a wall, which would be very unlike her.

  She was only gone for a second. Then she came right back.

  “Here,” she growled, giving it back to me hard.

  She sat down by my side but I could tell she was pissed.

  “Were those things true?” A Policeman asked. He didn’t elaborate and for that I was grateful.

  “Yes.” I confirmed.

  I watched Olivia’s face, wondering what she would do if our places were reversed. She would tell them. She sat next to me seething. Her eyes were fixed ahead at the wall between the two principals and she had obviously checked out. This was my job now. She wouldn’t speak more. I could tell.

  The board of questioners sat strong across from me, eager for details. I slid the journal down the table to them and sat back. “There were times when I didn’t want to and we did it anyway, there were times he convinced me to have sex when I didn’t want to, and he did things to me that I didn’t give consent for.”

  I was not going to let them see the scars. They could hear the story but that was all.

  “You don’t have to tell them everything,” she whispered strained. “Just something. Jesus,” she huffed.

  “You’re the one who gave them the journal,” I whispered back at her.

  I turned to the Policemen. “It’s all in there but there are no witnesses. No one to verify that what I wrote is true. He was careful not to make any marks on me where people could see.”

  “What?!” My dad sat up and looked over at me.

  I just looked at him, helpless and unable to explain. He looked so hurt, so angry. What could I say to him? There was nothing. So, I just stared.

  He reached over the table angrily and pulled the journal to sit in front of his eyes.

  “You shouldn’t read that, Dad.”

  There were things he was better off not knowing.

  He didn’t look at me. He just shoved the journal back away.

  “Dad… I’m sorry. It was bad. I was stupid and I let him use me and I hate myself for it. I hate-”

  I just stopped, trying to shut down all my emotions for self-preservation.

  Olivia’s mom pulled me into her and held me.

  “Shhhh… You don’t have to talk,” she whispered. “We’ll deal with it. It wasn’t your fault.”

  “Okay,” I said meekly. I sat back in my chair and let the adults talk around me. They had the journal maybe they wouldn’t need me anymore.

  Olivia just sat there all stiff, hugging her stomach coldly with her arms.

  “It looks like the situation is a lot worse than any of us knew,” the Principal said. “Girls, why don’t you go outside and get some air. We have details to discuss and you don’t have to be in here for that if you don’t want to be. We know it’s been a trying day.”

  Olivia didn’t speak or stand. She
just sat there. I pushed my chair back and looked down at her. “Come on.”

  My dad reached out and squeezed my arm as I moved to leave. I was glad that he hadn’t known about all of this before when he was at Ben’s. Olivia followed me out, silently.

  As soon as the door closed I turned around. No one was in the hall. Class must be in session right now.