by S. Massery
I lean back in my chair, trying not to glare too hard at her. I doubt she would care, though, since she’s a true Boston native. Nothing breaks through her thick skin. She’s just being friendly, I tell myself. “He just froze me out…” I sigh. “After sex. And then asked me to leave.”
She shoots out of her chair.
“That asshat! Are you kidding?”
I keep my eyes trained on the ceiling, a trick of my mother’s. I feel the starting prick of tears. “That’s not even the worst part.” I swallow the lump forming in my throat. “It was our first time together. He literally asked me to be his girlfriend at dinner, and then I’m getting the boot by nine.”
Rose growls. She pushes her dark hair away from her face, tying it back in quick motions. “I’m going to kill him myself. I don’t even know him, and I want to kill him.” Her face softens into something resembling pity, and I hold up my hand.
“Don’t get on the pity train, Rose. Please. I don’t think I could handle it.”
She cocks her head. “But murder suggestions are okay? Is that what you’re saying? Blink once for yes, twice for no. Or wink with your left eye for yes, right eye for no.” She winks with each eye, exaggerated.
After a minute of staring at her, straight faced, I give in and laugh. Together, we laugh and cackle and howl until tears stream down our faces. “Oh, god. I needed that.”
I’m wiping my eyes when Tom walks into the office. Rose scrambles up, straightening the chair she was using.
“Hard at work, ladies?”
Rose mumbles something and dashes from the office, shooting one last look at me. The door swings closed behind her, and we’re alone. I swallow, until I see his smirk.
“Looks like you’re feeling better.”
I nod. “Yes, thanks.”
“Well, you’ve been in quite a mood. I almost resorted to desperate measures.”
I purse my lips. “You were going to fire me over a mood?”
“No!” His laugh astonishes me. “I was going to drag my wife in here and have her girl-talk you to death.”
I smile.
“Thanks, Tom,” I murmur before he disappears into his office.
At six, Rose pokes her head into my office. My phone has been going nonstop, and I have a stack of messages for Tom to handle tomorrow.
“Hey,” she says. “Up for drinks?”
I am tempted to shake my head, to tell her no. But I picture how I would spend my evening: pick up takeout, sit in front of my television watching Jeopardy and a Lifetime movie, drink half a bottle of wine and pass out by ten.
“I’d love to,” I say. New city, new friends. It’s about time.
“Great! Eve is coming with us. Have you met her yet?”
I shake my head, closing down the computer and picking up my purse. I follow her down the hallway and into the lobby, where she pauses. “Eve is really cool. She works for Mr. Carpenter—seriously, that’s his name—who works in accounting. He is accounting.”
“Oh, okay.”
“I think she got off at five, so she should be there already.” Rose has a quick walk, and by the time we get to the bar—which turns out to be three blocks away—I’m puffing. She glances at me. “You could’ve told me to slow down, girl! I run everywhere. Fit is my middle name.” She laughs and eyes me. “If you ever want to work out with me….”
I shake my head again. “I walk places. That’s my exercise.”
The bar is filled to the brim with business people. Rose takes my hand, and we wind through the crowd to a table in the back. “Hi, Eve!” Rose plunks down at a chair, gesturing me to the other chair. “Eve, Charlotte.”
I look at the woman across from me. She is older, maybe in her early thirties, with white blond hair pulled back in a tight French braid. Her green eyes examine me, and I get the sense that she doesn’t miss much. After a moment, she extends her hand. “Nice to meet you, Charlotte,” Eve says.
“Please, call me Charlie,” I say as I shake her hand.
Rose hops up, saying, “We need drinks. What can I get you, Charlie?”
“Vodka soda?” I try to hide my immediate wince; I don’t know why that’s the first thing out of my mouth. I haven’t had vodka in a while.
She gets up and moves to the bar, leaving Eve and I alone for the moment.
“Are you enjoying Boston, Charlotte?”
I let my gaze wander around the bar. Some are already drunk or finishing dinner in the dark booths around us. Others are on the hunt: women with plunging necklines and bright lipstick, who sip drinks they haven’t bought, and men who leer at them or try to charm them.
How different are they from Avery and me? The way he used me for sex makes me burn with shame, because he’s proven to be just like every other guy. I thought he was different, that he cared about me, but maybe he just doesn’t understand that I’m not like that. I have had experiences that shape my views of sex and romance.
Rose reappears at that moment, sliding my drink in front of me.
“I’m so sorry, Rose,” I say, “I have to go.”
I finish the drink in three long swallows, wiping my mouth when I’m done. It burns slightly on the way down. I’m not usually such a drinker, but I have a feeling I’ll be needing some liquid courage. The smell of vodka brings back unpleasant memories of Colby, and I wish I had chosen something else.
Rose frowns. “Off to see the asshat?”
“Yeah. I need to talk to him.”
It takes me fifteen minutes to fast-walk to his apartment. In that time, the drink kicks in and heats me from the inside out. I press the buzzer a few times, until his voice comes through the speaker. “Yes?” It’s irritated.
“It’s me,” I say. “Charlie—Charlotte, I mean. Can I come up?”
The door buzzes, and I haul it open.
He opens the door to his apartment before I get there and leans on the door jam. It effectively blocks me from entering, but that’s okay. I can talk in the hallway.
I stop in front of him. “I need to say something.”
“Okay,” he says.
“What you did hurt me.” I run my hand through my hair, stepping back and leaning against the wall across from his door. “It hurt because I expected more from you.” I watch closely, to see if he will flinch. He does not. But he does look like he regrets it.
I sigh. “When I was in high school, I had a boyfriend. I was a virgin. I wanted to make sure that he liked me before we had sex. He was the epitome of outward perfect. He said the right things, he did the right things. He was affectionate in public, charmed my mother, and happily talked about the Patriots with my dad. Eventually, we had sex, but it wasn’t—” I try to remember to breathe, choking on my own words. “It was a fucked-up situation, okay?”
“Charlotte, I—”
“I’m not done,” I hiss. I take a deep breath and continue, “We broke up, and I was crushed. After that, I didn’t date anyone. I slept with a few guys, but none of them fixed me. Maybe you meant to be better or different, or you want to keep dating me. I don’t hold any of my past mistakes against you. I don’t compare you to them. But when you did that—damn it,” I pause, wiping a tear as it rolled down my cheek. “When you did that, it brought up all the past feelings of being hurt and angry and confused and transposed it with magnification onto my current feelings.”
I stared at him, willing him to understand while I wipe more tears from my cheeks. They just keep coming.
Avery has an expression of horror on his face.
“Charlotte, I’m so sorry. It wasn’t my intention to hurt you. I just… had my own freak out, I guess, and I didn’t know how to deal with it.” Softer, he says, “You’re the first one I’ve slept with since… my ex.” He clears his throat. “I didn’t handle it the right way, and I sincerely apologize.”
My lips tremble, and I don’t know how to feel now that my anger is gone. “Thank you, Avery.” But do I forgive him?
23
Past
<
br /> When I got out of the bathroom stall, Leah was standing there, leaning against one of the sinks. She was just so pretty, my lungs burned with jealousy. Every now and then, I would look at her and think, Why did Jared pick you?
She stared at me for a minute, and then stepped to the side. I walked up to the sink, eyeing her in the mirror. Although we ran in the same circles, and I frequently used her as an excuse to stay over Colby’s when his parents were out of town—which was, frankly, a lot—we never spoke. She pursed her lips and shrugged. I thought she might be having an internal debate. And, where she stood, she blocked the door.
Finally, she locked us into the bathroom and then turned back toward me, crossing her arms.
I wanted to tell her that I had to get back to class, but I think we both knew that I didn’t care that much. My skipping record had proven that already.
“You’ve always been at the peripheral,” she said.
I narrowed my eyes.
“I don’t mean in a bad way, Charlie, it’s just a fact. You kind of floated around and never talked to anyone except for Jared. He was your voice, or something.” That was true—but none of them spoke to me, either, and it was a two-way street. Leah sighed. “I’ve noticed you more in the last few months. Ever since…”
She didn’t want to say, Ever since Colby sunk his claws into you. I didn’t blame her. That was a scary sentence.
“You seem worse,” she admitted. “You seem like you almost flinch every time he touches you. You’ve must’ve lost, what, fifteen pounds? You look—”
I was a walking skeleton. I knew it. But Colby liked it this way. He liked that he could touch my ribs, and touch the skin that dipped and sucked around my collarbone and hips. He liked that my breasts were smaller, now, and that he could pick me up easier.
“Is he—” she shook her head, and then started again. “I’m worried. I’ve seen how he can get. He’s fine one minute, and then in a fit the next.”
It was the freedom, the money, that his absentee parents afforded him. He didn’t suffer repercussions like the rest of the world. I knew that. He knew that. He enjoyed it, gloated and reveled in it, while the rest of us shrunk away.
She was waiting for me to respond. She looked at me with such expectancy. My mother had started looking at me like that when I only picked at dinner, and when I stopped talking so much, and when I stopped hugging her.
Leah, like my mother, should get used to that disappointment.
I didn’t answer. I hadn’t spoken the whole time, so I didn’t know why Leah thought I would answer now. My voice was buried so deep inside of me, I didn’t know how to pull it out.
Eventually, her shoulders fell, and she stepped aside.
I unlocked the door and slid into the hallway.
Two days later, Leah came for me again. She hovered by Colby’s car after school, fiddling with her phone, when we walked up.
“Leah!” Colby greeted. “What brings you to my neck of the woods?”
Leah’s eyes flitted from me to him and back again. “I was hoping to steal Charlie sometime this week for help with my math project. We’re in the same class.”
His hand squeezed mine in a painful warning, and then he shrugged. “Yeah, we don’t have plans.” He let me go and stepped away. “Take her.”
My heart beat faster; where was my consent? Why didn’t I get a chance to say, Yeah, Leah, let’s hang out or No, sorry, Colby and I had plans to get high by the lake. He had just been whispering that to me, not five minutes ago.
Leah nodded, and I followed to her car. Once we were in, the silence felt stifling. We watched as Colby talked to one of his friends by his car. We watched him get in and drive away, never once glancing at me.
Finally, we left. I kept my mouth shut when she got on the highway. We didn’t need to go this way, but I was checked out. I didn’t care where she was taking me.
“I saw you,” she said.
I glanced over at her.
“Before I made out with Jared this summer, I saw you. I saw your face, and how you looked at him. I did it anyway because…”
My chest suddenly hurt.
“I just… I’m sorry, Charlie.” She sighed and blinked a few times. “I kind of saw that he was looking at you, too. If I didn’t make a move, I figured I would never get a chance again.”
I looked up, willing my eyes to stay dry. Her words passed in one ear and out the other.
“Do you want to talk about Jared?”
No, I didn’t want to talk about anything. I wanted to sob because my best friend was gone, and I couldn’t remember how I used to be before.
“Do you want to talk about Colby?”
I glanced out the window again. Nope.
Leah took an exit, drove for a few minutes, then pulled over onto a shoulder. We were on an empty road in the middle of the woods; I had no idea where we were. She unbuckled her seatbelt and turned toward me. “Do you realize he’s taken your voice away?”
I opened my mouth and closed it again.
“You haven’t said a word. I can’t remember the last time you spoke to someone other than Colby. Do you know how alarming that is? How not normal that is?”
I rolled my eyes, because, I spoke. I spoke too much, sometimes.
Leah grabbed my hand. “Say something, Charlotte.”
There was cotton in my throat and, under that, fear.
For the first time, I acknowledged my fear. I let it soak through me, giant waves that would drown me if I didn’t start swimming. Why was I so afraid?
“I have a notebook,” I whispered. When I flinched against the sound of my rasping voice, Leah squeezed my hand and didn’t let go. “I used to write to Jared, wishing he would come back.” I shook my head. “He told me that day—the day you made out with him at that beach—not to let Colby touch me.” A tear slid loose from my eye; I thought it might break me into fragments. “But…”
Leah didn’t react. She just waited.
And then, suddenly, we’re back at the beach, months ago.
I caught Colby’s eye. He smirked, silently lifting a beer bottle in my direction. It was either an invitation or a cheers—I couldn’t decipher. I could never read him. Uneasy, I shouldered my pack. It was time for me to go.
In the water, Jared was making out with Leah.
My heart seized, and I turned and fled.
It was easy to find my way back; I ran like my hair was on fire, following the barely-there path. In reality, it was my heart that was burning. Why did she have to kiss him? I held onto that anger, the adrenaline, and forced myself to run faster.
But eventually, the pack started hurting when it bounced against my back. I slowed to a stop. I didn’t just stop, I collapsed to my knees and let myself feel. Ugly sobs burst out of my mouth, spit flew everywhere, I choked and tipped my head back and howled my agony.
And that was how he found me.
“Charlie,” Colby said. I looked over my shoulder, and he stood on the path with his arms crossed. “Jesus, you’re making a fucking racket.”
I swallowed my groan.
He stepped toward me and smiled. It looked so wrong on his face.
“You saw Jared and Leah, yeah? I thought you might be in love with him.” He shrugged. “Oh, well.”
I stood up when he walked closer. My fingers tightened on the strap of my backpack, every muscle tensing. He was close enough to breathe in; I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to step back and back. In fact, that’s what I did—right until I bumped into a tree.
He touched my face. I knew this moment would haunt me, but fear kept me paralyzed.
“Colby!”
I jerked, and tears started streaming down my face. I met Jared’s eyes over Colby’s shoulder. He looked angrier than I had ever seen. A whole tropical storm brewed on his face.
Colby swiped at a tear with his thumb, and then dropped his hand from where he had traced my jaw. He turned to face Jared, and my legs gave out. I slid down the tree.
> The rest was a blur: Jared yelled about leaving me alone; Colby said something about Jared not owning me. Jared shoved Colby away from me and crouched down. He brushed away more tears. There was an endless supply of tears. But then he was pushed sideways, and Colby was on top of him with a manic look in his eye. He was possessed; I had never heard the sound of fists hitting flesh before.
I grew up with a physically peaceful family. Sure, Dad yelled, and Mom was… herself. But even when Jared lived with us, he behaved. I didn’t see the wild side of him. I knew there was a piece of him that was scarred from the fire. He was irrevocable changed, but only sometimes. Only in the dark, or when the darkness came out of him.
Colby and Jared rolled on the ground, each trying to get on the upper hand. Finally, Jared landed on top. He straddled Colby and hit him once, twice, three times.
“Jared,” I whispered. I said it again, louder, on repeat until I was screaming. I didn’t realize I was standing over him until I was close enough to grab onto his arm. “Stop,” I sobbed.
“He can’t fucking touch you, Charlie,” he said. Colby glared up at him, blood trickling down his nose. One of his eyes was swelling. Jared got up and put his arm around my shoulder. “I’ll bring you home.”
A week later, Jared’s transfer to boarding school was finalized. He appeared at my door, bruises now an ugly green and yellow, and told me goodbye.
Leah didn’t react as I finished telling her that story. I had tears in my eyes again, but they didn’t fall.
“I wanted Jared to come back so badly,” Leah admitted. “All freshman year, I had a huge crush on him. It wasn’t until that day at the beach that he even paid attention to me. It was mostly Colby’s doing.”
I blinked.
She laughed, running a hand through her hair. “It’s so stupid. Colby said he had noticed that I was infatuated with Jared. Infatuated was actually the word he used. And then he told me that you and him were hiking to a private beach, and we should crash.” She shrugged. “It sounded like a good idea. But I didn’t see you, and I didn’t see Colby follow you into the woods. All I knew was, one minute I was kissing him and the next he was yelling your name. He took off.”
