by Mona Kasten
Not at all.
Dawn asked no questions. She pulled the suitcase into the room, then took me by the hand, and led me to her bed. She murmured something. I saw her lips moving, but my ears were throbbing with my pulse, my rage, my heartbreak so I couldn’t understand her. Dawn left the room.
I sat on her bed, dangling my legs and staring at my socks.
Dawn returned with two cups of steaming tea, which she set on the nightstand. She pulled back the covers and helped me get comfortable. Then she got in next to me, and I lay my head on her lap. With my face against Dawn’s leg and my fingers clutching her sweater, I let the tears come.
I cried for hours. Dawn didn’t move from the spot. She pulled the blanket over me and stroked my hair, murmuring comforting words as my body shook with violent sobs.
At some point I was too exhausted to do anything but stare at the wall. It felt as if someone had torn every organ from my body.
Everything hurt.
My eyes grew heavy. I fell into a deep sleep.
As the week went on, sleeping turned into the high point of my days. Those were the only hours when I didn’t feel the overwhelming pain. Eating and even drinking were hard for me. I left Dawn’s bed to use the bathroom, nothing more. I skipped all my classes. It would have killed me to see Kaden there.
Dawn was an angel. She brought notes from our classes and photocopied Scott’s notes from the classes she wasn’t taking with me. To my relief, Sawyer didn’t show up much.
On Saturday, Dawn arrived with Scott in tow. They’d brought pizza. The aroma made my stomach rumble. But when Scott opened the box, I felt tears at the corners of my eyes. Everything reminded me of Kaden. It was ridiculous and terrible, but I couldn’t help it. Even though I’d slept more in the last few days than in the rest of my life put together, I felt drained and empty.
For the first time in my life I was in love. And for the first time in my life, someone had broken my heart. I didn’t know how to get over it. Especially since I was also homeless. What would I have done without Dawn?
I was always dependent on others—first my parents, then Kaden, and now her. As much as I’d tried to suppress everything that had happened in the past few days, one message had penetrated: I had to take responsibility for my life. It was time to get back on my feet.
“I need an apartment.”
Those were the first words that escaped my lips since I’d appeared at Dawn’s door. I stared for a while at the faded carpet and then looked up at my friends. “I need an apartment.”
Scott’s mouth opened and closed. I guess he hadn’t counted on this being the day I’d break my silence. Even Dawn seemed surprised. She put her slice of pizza back on the plate in her lap.
“You can stay here as long as you want. They hardly ever check, and if they do we’ll just make it seem like you’re my roommate. I mean, Sawyer is almost never here anyway,” she kept on going, obviously glad that I’d finally said something.
I felt the corners of my mouth twitch. Only a bit, but both Dawn and Scott had seen it.
“Sweetie?” Scott ventured, but not so cautiously as to make me look ridiculous.
“Huh?”
“Did you want to say something?” he asked.
I thought about it a while. The pain had lessened a bit, but I felt cold and numb. And empty.
“I don’t know,” I admitted.
“We’re here for you,” he said softly. “Always. Just so you know.”
Dawn nodded until her hair flew around her head.
I took a few deep breaths and stared back at the carpet. A lot had happened in my life. I’d felt alone for years, never able to trust anyone. My friendships had all been superficial; I kept people at a distance, thanks to my bad experiences.
In Woodshill, everything was different. Even I had become a different person—more myself than ever before. No matter how much Kaden had hurt me, I’d learned from my mistakes and realized now that it was better to talk about problems than to bottle them up. Otherwise they would come out on their own, and with destructive force.
I didn’t want to fall apart like this ever again.
So I got out of bed, sat down on the floor with Dawn and Scott and started to talk. It took a huge amount of effort, but I did it.
I told them about my parents and life in the Midwest. About Anderson, though not everything. About the awful confrontation on Thanksgiving. About Kaden’s brother. And how from one moment to the next Kaden had changed, though we’d grown so close. As I spoke—stumbling and clumsy—I realized how right it felt to talk to Dawn and Scott. I trusted them.
When I stopped, Dawn crawled across the floor and encircled me in her arms. Scott took my hand and squeezed it.
“Okay. First of all,” Dawn began in a firm voice, “I believe everything happens for a reason, Allie. If all that hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t be sitting here with us. We never would have met. Maybe you never would have found the courage to follow your dreams—maybe you’d never have told your mother that you wanted to be a teacher. You wouldn’t have fallen in love.”
I returned Dawn’s gaze and nodded.
“And secondly,” she continued, “it sounds like you’re not the only one who has to process stuff from the past. Kaden also seems to be dragging something around.”
I chewed on my lip.
“Whatever it is, it’s no reason to throw Allie out of the apartment. To be honest, it makes me mad,” Scott said, frowning as if the idea were something utterly new to him.
“He told me he can never be with someone like me.” I had to clear my throat, because my voice was failing. “I asked him why, to tell me what had happened between him and his brother. But he wouldn’t say.”
“What’s that supposed to mean? With someone like you?” snapped Dawn and sat erect. “I should beat him up again. I still have a good hand. And two feet.”
It was a sweet gesture, but I couldn’t even smile. Instead, I shrugged.
“The rules were fixed from the start.” I let out an ironic laugh.
Scott shook his head. “That guy is full of shit. Have you heard anything from him?”
I blinked. My cell phone had sat unused for a whole week.
My days had consisted only of sleeping and Dawn’s attempts at distraction.
“No idea.”
After Dawn handed me her charger, and I’d attached my phone to it, a single name appeared: Spencer.
“Of course,” I murmured. Spencer had probably been sent to take care of the rest of my stuff. I locked the phone again and shoved it aside.
“I have no idea what to do now. I mean, I can’t stay here forever, no matter how much I appreciate the offer, Dawn.”
Dawn gave me a crooked grin.
“First of all, let’s go look at apartments. I’m guessing you don’t want to share a place anymore, right, Allie?” Scott looked at me and tapped on his smartphone.
The fact that the two didn’t overwhelm me with pity but instead set about finding practical solutions made it so much easier.
“No,” I announced. “No more roommate … unless I get to choose my roommate myself. I still have some savings and an account that my parents set up. I can dip into it in an emergency.”
True, I wanted to avoid touching a single cent of that money, but it would be impossible to find a dorm room mid-semester—all rooms were occupied and the waiting list seemed endless.
“Let’s go!” Scott clapped his hands. “You’re in it to win it, Allie.”
I took a deep breath.
Then I stood up.
I was in it to win it.
Chapter 32
I did something that was long overdue. I called my mother.
Or I tried, anyway. But for a solid hour, I hung up each time I dialed her number.
Dawn had made a point of going
for a walk so I could speak with my mom in peace, but somehow I just couldn’t bring myself to let it ring on the other end. What did I even want to say to her? So much had happened between us, that it wouldn’t be enough to say, “Hey, thanks for making my life a living hell these past few years.”
Besides, I’d been thinking about Dawn’s words for days now. If not for that awful experience with Anderson and my mother’s abominable behavior, I never would have moved to Woodshill. And without this new beginning, I never would have made these wonderful friends. I hadn’t ever been in love—and never thought it would happen to me. And I wouldn’t have learned so much about myself, grown so much. Without all these experiences I would not be who I am now. And I kind of liked myself. In other words, things were going well, in a way.
Taking a deep breath, I pressed redial and raised the phone to my year.
Mom picked up.
“Crystal.” As she pronounced my name, a shiver ran down my spine. “I knew you’d call, sooner or later.”
I ignored her pointed remark, even though I wanted to jump through the phone and shake her.
“Hello, Mother,” I said, trying to sound polite. My pulse was racing. “How are you?”
Take small steps, I reminded myself. Don’t put everything on the table all at once.
“How am I supposed to be? You embarrassed me at my own gala! You show up with some random punk, and—”
I barely heard her next words. An unusual calm descended on me. Now I knew I’d make it.
“Mom,” I interrupted.
“I’m talking, Crystal. You asked me a question, so you can listen to the answer.”
“I didn’t call for you to beat me up.” I lay on my back and stared at the ceiling.
“To what do I owe the honor, then?”
“You were expecting me to come to the gala, weren’t you?” I waited for her answer.
None came.
“If you were expecting me, as you yourself said in Lincoln, then how could you allow Russell Anderson to be there?”
She sucked in a breath.
“At first I didn’t want to think about it, you know,” I said. “I wanted to be done with this once and for all. But the more I thought about it—how could you do it, Mom?”
Again, silence.
I cleared my throat. “Russell didn’t rape me. But he abused me. He left a scar on my soul. I told you everything; I trusted you. And what do you do? You invite this man into our home and give him an award in front of my eyes.” I lay my arm over my eyes. I wasn’t going to cry. I just wanted closure, wanted to make her see what she had done to me, make her understand once and for all why I’d left home to make a new life. “How could you do this to me, Mom? I’m your daughter. You’re supposed to protect me, but instead you let me run into an open knife.”
Now my mother snorted.
“You think it was easy for me?” she asked in a quavering voice.
“That’s how it seemed, yes,” I admitted.
“You have no idea how hard it was for me to tolerate having that man in my house!” she hissed.
“Then why didn’t you do something about it?”
She was quiet again.
“He donated lots of money, Crystal,” she then whispered. “This year, too, for the charitable organization,” her voice grew louder. “I had no choice. You know how it is in our circles.”
I wanted to laugh. Just then the door opened a crack and Dawn peered inside. Seeing I was on the phone, she started to withdraw. But I waved her back in.
Sitting up, I indicated the spot next to me. Dawn climbed onto the bed, wearing a worried expression.
“I know how it is, Mom. But that doesn’t mean your own daughter couldn’t expect a little more help from you.”
“I kept him away from you, Crystal. I did everything in my power to prevent him—”
“If you had done everything in your power, you’d never have let that pig set foot in our home,” I interrupted her. “You would have done what every normal mother would do—keep me safe and put that creep behind bars. Instead, you forced me to dress more modestly and then accepted the dirty money he gave you to keep quiet. You left me alone with my fear.”
I heard her sharp inhale, but I wasn’t finished yet.
“I don’t want to live in the past anymore, Mom. I moved to Woodshill to start over. Not because I wanted to make life hard for you and Dad. I just wanted to breathe free again. But it won’t work until we’ve cleared the air about this.”
The line was quiet as death.
“I’m trying to forgive you, trying to deal with this Russel stuff, and trying to build a life here. But I can’t do if you keep trying to influence my decisions.”
I squeezed my eyes shut to suppress my tears. Dawn grabbed my hand and held it tight.
“I never wanted to hurt you, Crystal, I just wanted the best for our family,” my mother said, and I knew that this was the only apology I would ever get from her. That was it. But at least I’d said everything that I should’ve said years ago.
“You hurt me, Mom. A lot. And on Thanksgiving you showed me again that my feelings mean nothing to you. You allowed me to attend this event even though you knew he’d be there. Saving face in front of your friends was more important to you than your daughter’s well-being.”
She took another breath as if to speak—but remained silent. Dawn raised her eyebrows at me, and I shrugged. Mom said nothing. And then:
“So I drove you out of our home?”
“I’m not returning to Lincoln any time soon. Woodshill is great.”
“You belong in a big city, Crystal,” she snorted. “Not in a village where everyone drives around in rusty trucks.”
She almost made me laugh.
“I’m not Crystal any more, Mom. I haven’t been for several months now. My friends call me Allie. Maybe you can accept that I am building a life for myself here, a life that can make me happy,” I repeated the words I’d prepared in my head before calling. “I don’t want to shut you out of my life, Mom. That doesn’t help you, or me—but if you can’t accept who I am, there’s no other choice.”
Dawn squeezed my hand so hard that my knuckles cracked.
“I can’t accept the path you’ve chosen. Whatever you think of me, I only want the best for you. And that is, in my opinion, not Woodshill and certainly not a tattooed thug who’ll only lead you astray.”
Her words stung.
“If she’s being mean, just hang up, Allie,” whispered Dawn, pantomiming the action.
“You’re welcome to visit me. Or not. It’s up to you. But I’m not coming back.” I paused. “And now I have to hang up.”
Mom sucked in another breath.
“Take care, Mom. If you want, say hello to Dad for me,” I said in a somewhat forgiving tone.
“Take care, Cr—” She caught herself. “Take care, Allie.”
I hung up and let the phone drop.
“I’m proud of you,” Dawn said, with a big smile.
“Does it sound stupid if I say, ‘me too’?”
Now my friend shook her head, but the smile stayed put. “Not at all.”
And even though I was still shaken, and my pulse was racing, I returned her smile. I’d done it: told my mother what I thought and freed myself from her. Now the ball was in her court. It was up to her to decide whether we had a future.
Chapter 33
Stressful would be an understatement. While back in class full time, I somehow managed to squeeze in one apartment visit after another. But the distraction did me good. Turns out, finding an acceptable apartment in the middle of a semester was easier than at the beginning of the semester. Maybe some students realized they weren’t college material. Either way, most of the viewings went okay.
Kaden and I had only one shared class. Film and TV. I’d
considered dropping out and taking it next semester. But no. Why should I hide just because he thought he couldn’t be with me?
Instead, I just avoided Kaden, and pretended he didn’t exist.
Today’s classroom assignment was to place films and people in different production categories and periods. We were supposed to come to the front of the room and stick our little notes with names and titles in the correct columns on the whiteboard. I reached for a magnet to put my first note on the board when I felt someone standing behind me. It had to be Kaden. His arm pushed past me and over my shoulder, as he stuck a note on the board.
I froze.
“Can we talk?” Kaden’s breath brushed my ear, he was standing so close.
I wanted to turn and go back to my seat, but Kaden held me by the elbow. It was all I could do not to look at him. Instead of lifting my eyes, I stared at his hand on my arm. My pulse was so fast, I was dizzy.
It can’t work. I can never be with someone like you; his words rang in my head.
Without looking him in the eyes, I removed his hand from my arm. I returned to my seat and, heart pounding, began to copy the notes from the board. Kaden turned and left the room.
After our last class of the day, Scott and I sat in the campus café waiting for Dawn to get out of class. Both of them wanted to come along to one last apartment viewing today. What would I have done without them?
Lattes in hand, Scott and I navigated our way up the creaky wooden steps of the café. All the window seats upstairs were taken, but we found a little table in the middle of the room.
We hadn’t even sat down when Scott asked: “How was Film and TV?”
I sighed. Actually, I wanted to forget about the encounter with Kaden, but somehow Scott had a nose for news. “He actually spoke to me. He asked if we could talk.”
“And? Can you?” Scott asked, with raised eyebrows.
“Probably not.”
“Maybe he has something important to tell you.”
“Like what? That I left my tampons in the bathroom?” I asked a bit too loud; the girls at the next table stopped talking and stared at us, annoyed.
