And all of this, was one big backdrop to what I was dealing with, with Charlie. I couldn’t believe that I had thought that I was interested in him. Charlie had blinded me with his sparkle, and I had fallen for it hook, line, and sequin. And despite all that I had learned, all that I had been ingrained with, I still wondered if this whole Charlie situation was somehow my fault.
✧✧✧
Diane had gotten her friend in the police department to help us file the paperwork for the restraining order, including a ‘No Contact Provision,’ at his suggestion. He’d also not so helpfully informed us that for the most part, the Order was almost impossible to enforce, and was statistically violated more than half of the time. But, he explained, it wasn’t necessarily the effectiveness of the Protective Order that was paramount; should something illegal result in the violation of it, the documentation of the Order would benefit a prosecution.
So basically, my safety wasn’t paramount, and something would have to happen to me in order for the Restraining Order to result in anything. Great. But I couldn’t feel like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop, I couldn’t just sit back and let Charlie taunt me. Because what he viewed as wooing, I felt was terrorizing.
I didn’t know when or where he would be served, but he needed to be, in order to validate it. I was actually dreading that time, because if Charlie was actually just a misguided romantic, my slapping him with a restraining order would seem both dramatic and kinda suck. But, I reminded myself, people who hadn’t done anything wrong wouldn’t be defensive. I almost hoped that Charlie would simply view me as the unstable one, and move on.
As long as he was out of my life, I sort of didn’t care.
Explaining everything to my mom and sister, well that was a little tougher. Go figure.
FIFTY-THREE
“So, I sort of have to talk to you guys about something.” I had finally gotten the courage to discuss the Charlie developments with Kara and my mom, and after listening to them laughing together downstairs while I sat in my room procrastinating the inevitable for almost an hour, I forced myself to head down and deal with it. I had to “handle my scandal,” as Diane had instructed me straight faced, and I had first laughed and then accused her of watching too many high school situational comedies. Diane had discovered Netflix a while back and let’s just say, a mid-thirties woman with a reclusive inclination and streaming, were a dangerous combination. I think that she may have managed to coin the phrase ‘Binge Bingeing,’ in a single weekend.
So, handle I had to do. Kara and my mom were having coffee in the living room which actually helped, because I could park myself in my brown armchair and feel the comfort and boundaries that I needed in order to broach the topic. Just thinking about Charlie and the implications of his actions was stress-inducing. Telling Kara and my mom seemed like an insurmountable challenge, and it made the whole nightmare all too real. I just had to keep reminding myself that I owed it to them to keep them informed, for their own safety, and for my sanity as well. I honestly wouldn’t be able to live with myself if they had something happen to them because of all of this, and I could have prevented it in someway.
I also needed to tell them just so that I could text Diane that it was taken care of, preventing her from pouncing on me when I saw her and saying something like, “What did they say? Spill the tea.” I rolled my eyes every time that Diane tried out new ‘material,’ and outright laughed in her face when she yelled, “Yeet!” one time after making a basket into a trashcan. I had to talk to my sister and mom simply so that Diane wouldn’t ask me why I hadn’t had my conversation about my ‘stan’ yet.
Kara barely looked up from her coffee when I had entered the room, but both sets of familiar blue eyes lasered in on me after my statement. I also needed to get talking, fast, before Kara started to guess inappropriate topics to which I might be referring, with my opener. She had just opened her mouth, likely to do just that, when I rushed on.
“So I don’t want you guys to be worried…” My mom’s look told me exactly what she was thinking: Well, now I’m worried. I couldn’t blame her, I used a phrase that was like the ultimate jump to the worst conclusion go-to. “I just mean, well…you remember Charlie?” They both nodded, Kara having slammed her mouth shut at the mention of his name. “It’s just, well, I wasn’t interested in pursuing anything with him, but he didn’t really take that news well. He’s still interested in me.”
“You’re a wonderful person, Cass. I’d be surprised if he wasn’t…” my mom said, and Kara snorted at the fact that James’ comment had been so spot on Mom and completely deserving of Kara’s mockery.
“Yeah, thanks, Mom,” I said and Kara looked like she was about to implode from held-in laughter. “Anyway, my amazingness aside, Charlie is persistent. Like, overzealously persistent.” That made Kara get serious again. She knew a whole lot more about the big picture and Charlie than my mom did, which was why my mom still had a look of confusion on her face. “Like I said, I don’t want you to worry, but since you guys live here and I love you, I needed to keep you informed.” I was trying to strike a balance between imparting the gravity of this whole thing, while not overemphasizing the danger component. Because, I really didn’t want to worry them. I was also trying my hardest not to use Diane’s ‘stalker’ descriptor, because I felt like if I was going to trigger a panic, that was a oneway ticket to panic town.
“So, he’s kind of been contacting me, despite my being very clear about not being interested in a relationship…of any kind, and then he confronted me…”
“He’s stalking you?” Kara asked, with a mixture of horror and intrigue in her voice, and I wanted to yell at her to shut up. My mom froze at the statement, and all that I was trying to accomplish was blown.
“Kara, quiet. Cass, talk.” My mom had taken control and when she got that tone, you listened.
“Ok. So, Charlie seems to be operating under a false assumption that he and I should be together…romantically. And despite my explaining that I wouldn’t be with him, that I didn’t want to be with him, it seems to have had the opposite effect. He’s contacted me by phone, writing, and then in person…confronted me, I should say.” I honestly didn’t want to castigate an innocent person, but I also needed to convey the seriousness of the situation so that my mom and sister were protected with the knowledge of the big picture. “So, since I feel a little uncomfortable…sorry, I’m feeling threatened,” and I felt like Rachel cheered in my head, “I followed Diane’s advice, after she consulted a police officer that she works with, and we filed a Protective Order.”
“You got a restraining order, Cass?” Kara blurted this out, and if I weren’t so far along in the process, her incredulity would have made me consider whether I should proceed with it. But it was done, and I had to remind myself that normal people, people who hadn’t known the taste of trauma like I had, didn’t really allow themselves to be in the kind of headspace required for understanding something like this. They couldn’t, it went against a very vestigial instinct for self-preservation. Yes, we usually thought of self-preservation as linked to a more physical and corporeal drive, but the truth was that it more often applied to our minds. Our psychological well-being was contingent on not allowing ourselves to fall too deeply into the fear of the unknown. So, consequently, people worked hard to convince themselves, usually without realizing it, that the worst-case was not a reality. This carried over into an overall attitude toward life, and it made perfect sense. You couldn’t live if you constantly feared the worst.
But having discovered that worst-case was all too real, I didn’t operate like that. I forgave Kara her outburst, understanding exactly where she was coming from. It wasn’t like she meant to make me doubt myself; it was a protective mechanism for her, and one that had also probably been strengthened by getting too close to that reality herself, through me. Kara had lived through her own personal nightmare with my assault, and to be able to carry on, she had to believe that nothing that awful co
uld ever happen again.
I envied her.
“A Protective Order, Kara, but yes. Which is why I needed to tell you guys. We need to assume that it might make Charlie a little…upset. That way, we can avoid any escalation on his part.”
“You’re scaring me, Cass,” Kara said, and looked at our mom for guidance.
“I’m not trying to scare you. I just wanted to make sure that you two had an idea of what has been going on, in case. That we should do things preventatively, like keep the house locked and the alarm system on during the day as well. You two wouldn’t be targets,” I added, despite the voice inside my head that insidiously whispered ‘I hope,’ “but it’s better to be prudent than taken by surprise.”
The two of them looked at me for a minute, processing everything I had just said, and I really hoped that I hadn’t made the situation worse. Would it have been better to save them the worry? No, I knew, because it left them too open. We had to be vigilant, we had to be armed with what knowledge that we had.
“Ok. Cass, this must be a lot for you to be dealing with right now,” my mom surprised me by finally saying. And honestly, it meant a lot. It not only helped me to know that she was considering the psychological implications of all of this on me, but it showed that she was listening. I simply nodded, also knowing that I couldn’t really provide more than that.
“Eww. Cass, I guess the Carla thing wasn’t a one time deal.” Then Kara quickly averted her eyes. Ugh!
“What Carla thing?” my mom asked slowly, like she almost didn’t want to know, and like she knew that she was about to be pissed off at us once she had her answer.
“Nothing. So, like, if we see him, what do we do?” Kara asked me, redirecting the conversation and I actually appreciated it. The Carla story would only serve to frighten my mom, and it had a whole lot more weight now that we had a new context with which to view it. Things had evolved since we’d first talked about it, but that would be hard to understand in retrospect.
“I guess if you see him, which I’m hoping you won’t, call the police. His name is Charlie Hudson,” I said for my mom’s benefit, and I swear she looked around her for something to write it down on. Luckily she realized that she’d probably be able to at least remember his first name, and I knew that she’d ask Kara later so she could actually document it for later reference. Then, she looked back to me expectantly, waiting for more instruction. “So, he knows he’s not allowed near me, which includes our property, so if he shows up, he’s in direct violation. Try not to talk to him, if you can help it, but that’s up to you.”
“Jesus, Cass. I feel like we’re in Law and Order or something,” Kara said, her eyes wide. Yes, Kara, welcome to my life, I thought snidely.
“Anyway, this was just a heads-up in case he came over or something and you didn’t know, and just like, let him in or something.” Because I could see that happening. I could just picture walking downstairs to my mom having coffee with the ‘delightful young man’ known as Charlie, and me being forced to act like it was ok. Or, blacking out. Either scenario seemed equally awful, so I was glad that I’d gotten this out in the air.
“Does he still think that you’re with Harrison?” Kara asked, like this little discussion had opened things up to let’s find out all of Cass’ business. I gave Kara a death glare and she just shrugged.
“You’re with Harrison, sweetie?” my mom asked, once again looking a little pissed that she’d been left out.
“No. We’re just friends, and Kara? Just…you know what? Forget it. I’ll see you guys later,” I said, irritated and exhausted from our whole conversation. And mostly, bothered because the issue of Harrison and me was starting to seem like an entirely more important topic, one which I was grappling with, and it was having to take a backseat to this whole Charlie thing.
✧✧✧
“You don’t have to thank me again, Cass. I like getting out of the house and going somewhere that’s not work,” Harrison reiterated. I had held up my deal with Rachel and wasn’t getting behind the wheel. She’d said that if I went without an episode while the legal process of my Order was completed, and it had been served without another appearance of Charlie in my life, she’d reconsider her “request.” Rachel’s requests were more like demands.
Harrison and I were hanging in my room, me on my bed and him lounging on my couch, music playing. We hadn’t really talked about that night, or morning, but I was reassured by the fact that we had easily slipped into our old routine of chatting, messing with each other, and goofing off. I might have actually been smiling a lot. Disturbing.
“Yeah, this whole thing is weird, I know…” I had vaguely alluded to the fact that I’d be giving my car a vacation, to Harrison on the phone, and the fact that he didn’t ask why showed me that he had probably had the same thoughts as Rachel. Also, I was pretty sure that he was more traumatized by my damsel-in-distress fainting act, than I even was, so he was more than happy to accommodate me. I didn’t want to look too closely at any of that.
“Weird is my middle name,” Harrison quipped and I smiled. “Well, it’s actually Geronimo, but let’s keep that between you and me.” I barked a laugh, not knowing if he was joking. “Sadly, I’m serious. My mom is part Native American and felt the need to salute her heritage, except I’m the one who spent way too long as a child trying to learn how to spell his own name.” Harrison rolled his eyes.
“Well, I guess you lucked out with your last name?” I shrugged. “Speaking of Zanes, how’s The Monster?” I asked, because I had kind of grown attached to the little boy.
“Making me actually wish he’d stay a kid for longer, as torturous as that has been. The dude thinks he’s like a teenager or something. He actually said to me, ‘We can chill when you get home.’” Harrison shook his head and ran his hand over his face.
“He’s special, alright.” I said, trying not to laugh at Harrison’s mini-me. Next thing we knew, he’d be wearing white tees and black boots.
“Everything cool with you, Cass?” Harrison seemed like he’d been wanting to ask, but had also been trying not to. Apparently he’d lost his battle.
“Eh.” I said, not wanting to talk about me.
“At the risk of pissing you off, I do have to say that you have managed to ensnare the Zane family. We’re now all entirely too invested in your wellbeing. My mom asks about you every time she sees me.” He held up his hands in a what-can-you-do gesture.
“That must be annoying,” I said, because I was living in a similar world of Harrison inquiries and…it was annoying.
“Nah. But it does make me feel like I need to make sure that you’re cool…you know, for their peace of mind.” Nice try, Harrison.
“Well, I guess that cool is relative?” I wanted to assuage his concerns, but I couldn’t lie to him. Unless you counted lying by omission. I’d have to consider that later.
“Sure. If that’s true, I’m like the coolest guy in the world,” Harrison smiled at me, and I had to laugh.
“That you are, Harrison Zane.” He had seemed too cool for me when I was just getting to know him. “You were too cool to give me the time of day in the beginning. But I guess I didn’t resemble a cell phone so it made sense,” I teased.
“Ha. I just don’t like to invest a lot of energy in stuff that seems pointless and unattainable,” he said, and I could see that. It probably went hand-in-hand with his general attitude and ability to quickly move on to the next thing. “Besides, every time you looked at me with those blue eyes, I kind of forgot what I was going to say.” Harrison shrugged, and I just looked at him. “See?” he said, and I smiled.
“And here I just thought that you were too cool for school,” I teased.
“Well that, I am, don’t get it twisted.” We were silent for a while, both probably just thinking, and then Harrison said something that surprised me. “Cass? You know that thing you said, the other night?” Which one?
“You’ll have to narrow it down for me…was it the silenc
e before or after I passed out?” I wanted to take as much of the drama away from that night as possible. Because it had been pretty intense.
“I mean, the thing about…well, I never thought about you being my girlfriend.” I wanted to hide from mortification. “Ok, I said that wrong. I’ve thought plenty about that, but I never believed…I just didn’t think you’d ever see me that way.” Oh. This might be more uncomfortable than him thinking that I was totally out of left field.
“Yeah, I guess I shouldn’t have said that,” since it was kind of like an unattainable situation, as he’d already pointed out…although I suspected that we had different reasons for believing that, one which was just wrong and one which was just unfair. Either way, though, it didn’t matter.
“I’m glad you said it,” he said, his dark eyes seeming to peer into my soul. I felt like I was being so unfair to Harrison, never able to give him a full answer, never being able to explain myself or let him know how important he was to me.
“Harrison, it’s just…” I didn’t even know how to end that sentence. He sat there without speaking, living up to why I appreciated him so much, never pushing me to find what I was at a loss to say. “I don’t do sex.” Ok, could I sound like more of a freak?
“Like you don’t do romantic comedies. I don’t do a lot of things…like switch up my wardrobe, or play bocci ball, or…”
“Stop. I appreciate your trying to help, but there isn’t a whole lot you can do. I have some stuff from my past that kind of…well, it affects who I am today. I can only give you as much as I can…and I think you’ll be disappointed.” I smiled sadly at him, wishing that he could understand.
Harrison sat there, like he was processing what I’d said, trying to piece together a jigsaw puzzle that was missing a third of the pieces. Lifting an eyebrow, he opened his mouth, but then seemed to reconsider and closed it again. Pressing his lips together as if to keep in his words until he had fully formulated what he wanted to say, I thought it might be the first time ever that he hadn’t been quick to comment.
TWELVE MINUTES Page 31
