by Jenny Lee
This revelation was a great relief to Kimmie. Maybe she wasn’t to blame for her error in judgment in rushing into sex with Vronsky. If anything, he was the one who had unfairly taken advantage of her delicate mental state. She was the victim in the whole thing, the same way all the girls he had seduced before her were victims, the Little Red Riding Hoods to his Big Bad Wolf. In her second week of therapy she jumped at the chance to change the narrative. If she didn’t want to be the victim, then it was within her power to do something about it. Life had been a dick to her, but not anymore. It was time for her to take action and kick it squarely in the balls.
II
Kimmie attended group therapy once a day, usually in the morning, but sometimes she went to a second session in the evening, as well. There was something about listening to the troubled lives of other teenagers that made her stop analyzing her own problems. All she had been doing was dissecting her own psyche for weeks now and frankly she was sick of herself. Plus, there was a girl who often attended the evening group sessions who Kimmie had a crush on. When Natalia had caught Kimmie’s attention last week, Kimmie had an intense feeling of admiration for her, a feeling not dissimilar to how she felt around Anna the first time she met her. It wasn’t romantic, this longing she felt, but a different beast altogether. She didn’t “want” her. She wanted to be her.
Natalia was probably the same age as Lolly, but she could easily have passed for someone much older. Kimmie knew Natalia couldn’t be older than eighteen, because if she was, she’d have to attend a different group. Even though she was tall, skinny, had no hips and two puffy bee-stings for breasts, she exuded a raw sexuality that exploded out of her like a Roman candle. Kimmie hated short hair on girls, but Natalia had an artfully disheveled mop of bright green and blue hair that perfectly accentuated her wide-set emerald eyes. Perched on her metal folding chair, she was like an alien cat creature sent down to Earth to let the human race know exactly what was what.
During the five times she had spoken in group, Kimmie had ascertained the following: Natalia had grown up in Vegas with a single mom who worked as a cocktail waitress at an off-strip low-rent casino and dabbled in a little light prostitution when money was tight; Natalia was twelve when she tried meth for the first time (given to her by her mom’s on-again/off-again drug dealer boyfriend); the only thing she knew about her dad was that he was a degenerate gambler who had no interest in his daughter other than sending cash whenever he won big (which wasn’t that often). Natalia said she had tried a lot of other drugs, but what she liked about meth was the invincibility it made her feel. She had once run the Vegas marathon high on meth in four hours wearing Converse high tops, jeans, and a bikini top.
She had just gotten out of a fancy rehab facility (one of her mother’s old rich dude regulars got her in as a charity case, and she had been selected to enroll in an outpatient research study of meth addicts, which is how she ended up at Desert Vista) and she was now two months clean, a record for her since she had started using. What Kimmie liked best about Natalia was she didn’t seem to care what people thought of her and spoke about whatever happened to be on her mind when it was her turn to share. She found being sober boring AF, and the only thing keeping her from using again was her new boyfriend who she had met at rehab. “I wake up and think about meth, but I go to work instead. After work I think about meth, but I come here instead. After group I think about meth, but my bf picks me up and we go get dinner. After dinner I think about meth, but we go home and fuck until we’re both asleep. Oh, and if the craving gets particularly bad, I get pierced or add another tattoo to my canvas.”
Kimmie normally preferred to sit across from Natalia in the semicircle so she could stare at her, but when she showed up to group today, the only seat available was next to her.
“Hey, you,” Natalia whispered. “Smelly Pits tried to sit there, but I told him I was saving it for you. Thank god you showed up!”
Kimmie blushed with excitement before Dr. Rodriguez started the session. She could barely concentrate as Dime Bag Dougie complained about his tortured high school experience, because she was so elated at Natalia enlisting her as an ally. Kimmie’s mother had given her the advice that she was here to work on herself, and not to make friends. “Misery loves company, and I don’t want you getting sucked into someone else’s problems, okay?” At the time, her mother made sense, but now that Kimmie had learned more about psychology, she thought her mother was wrong. If anything, listening to the outside perspectives of others was helping her better understand herself.
When she was a competitive ice dancer, Kimmie had had no time to analyze herself, concentrating instead on her footwork and focusing on the next competition. But after it was over, she had been left with a huge void of unmanaged time and energy. Kimmie’s one-on-one therapist, Dr. Park, told Kimmie she needed to explore things she was interested in.
“But how will I know?” Kimmie asked. “What if nothing interests me?”
Dr. Park assured her that the big struggle of one’s teenage years was figuring out those things for oneself, and not just going with the pack. “Trust me, you’ll know what you like when you see it,” Dr. Park said. “And it’s okay to try things out and experiment, so if you try something and realize you don’t like it after a while, then that’s okay, too. You’re in charge of who you want to be, Kimmie.”
These were the words that Kimmie thought of when she turned to Natalia after group ended and said, “Hey, can I grab dinner with you and your bf? I’ll pay for it, and we can go somewhere totally expensive. I’ve got my mom’s platinum card.”
“Hell, yeah,” Natalia answered. “We should slut up and really raise some eyebrows at this snooty French place where my boyfriend is a dishwasher.”
Natalia texted her bf that she’d be out soon then accompanied Kimmie to her room so she could get her purse. Kimmie hadn’t brought any dressy clothes, but Natalia said she had a few pieces she could loan her. “Have you ever thought about dying your hair?” Natalia asked as Kimmie signed out. Kimmie hadn’t gotten her hair done in a month and was currently sporting gnarly dark roots, but where she’d be shunned in Manhattan for it, no one here had seemed to care.
“I know, my roots are the worst, right?” Kimmie began, but was interrupted by Natalia.
“No, no, sorry, I wasn’t root-shaming. I meant, have you ever thought about dying your hair a different color? You’re already a smokeshow, but a little pop of color would make your hotness otherworldly.”
Kimmie had never considered dying her hair a color other than honey blond in her entire life. But that was the old Kimmie, a person she desperately wanted to bury. “I’d be down to go for it, if you know someone who could do it for me.”
“You’re looking at her,” Natalia boasted. “I’ve changed my hair color every other month for the last two years so I’m a pro, if you’re up for it. I swear you’ll love it.”
Kimmie nodded happily. “Yeah. But I want something fierce. Maya’s got me in a ball-kicking mood.”
It didn’t matter to Kimmie that Natalia had never heard of Maya Angelou; in fact, she found it refreshing. She was sick to death of snooty private school girls who pretended to read The New Yorker for the articles and not just the cartoons; what she liked about Natalia so much was that she was just so real.
Natalia’s bf was leaning against a maroon Volvo SUV smoking a cigarette when the two girls exited the building. There was something familiar about the black hoodie he had on, but Kimmie figured it was a popular brand.
Natalia gave her boyfriend a deep tongue kiss, and Kimmie watched as he grabbed her ass in return.
“I’m Kimmie,” she said, once the lovebirds came up for air.
“Cool,” the boy said with a grin. “Call me Nick.”
“Hey, Nick,” Kimmie said, returning his grin. “You have the same taste in cars as my dad.”
Nick and Natalia cracked up over her comment, and when Kimmie asked what was so funny, Natalia said she always ma
de fun of Nick’s “dad car,” too.
Natalia pulled a pack of cigarettes out of her denim jacket and offered one to Kimmie. Without hesitating, Kimmie grabbed one, knowing she may make a fool of herself. Deciding to own her truth the way her new friend always did in group, Kimmie announced, “I’ve never smoked before so…”
“Don’t you worry. I’ve got your back.” Natalia hooked her arm in Kimmie’s, something Lolly often did when they were younger. “Let me show you how to smoke like a badass.”
Kimmie couldn’t remember ever wanting anything more.
III
When Anna arrived at Alexander’s parents’ house after school, she was told by their housekeeper that his private nurse had showed up late so he would be “indisposed” for another half hour. Anna couldn’t help but be irritated that he hadn’t texted her, since he knew she had a riding lesson that afternoon. She felt ashamed at her annoyance, reminding herself that she was lucky enough to still enjoy such things, while her boyfriend was on bed rest recovering from a fractured pelvis and a broken left leg.
She told the housekeeper to let Alexander know she’d be back that evening after dinner. Walking out the front door, she sighed. After-dinner visits were open ended, which meant she would have to stay longer. For the last week, she had been visiting him after school, knowing she had a perfect out in her riding lessons or dinner plans.
“Annie!” Eleanor yelled from the front door. “Where on earth are you going?”
Anna’s hand was on her car door handle, but she pulled it away and turned around. “Hi, Eleanor,” she said, but didn’t make any move to go back to the house. “I’ll be back after dinner.”
“Just because Alexander’s busy doesn’t mean you should leave,” Eleanor responded. “You know, maybe I could use some cheering up, too?”
Eleanor had come out of the accident with a sprained wrist and a few facial lacerations, one of which was still taped by the orders of her plastic surgeon. But because she was Eleanor, she was still milking sympathy from the traumatic event. When they were only five miles from home a deer crossed the road, and Alexander hit the brakes. Because the road was slick from the snowfall, the car skidded, flipped on its side, and slammed into a tree. Eleanor had been asleep, so she missed the whole thing, which was probably why she hadn’t suffered as many injuries, since she didn’t brace against the impact.
“I’m trying to get in a riding lesson. It’s too late to cancel,” Anna said quickly. “Before I come back tonight, maybe I’ll pick up some froyo for you, okay?”
“How nice for you,” Eleanor snipped. “Getting to go on with your life, while my poor brother is bedridden and in lots of pain.”
Anna had been dealing with these passive-aggressive comments from Eleanor for long enough. “Eleanor, if you have something you’d like to say to me, I’d love to hear it.”
Eleanor didn’t bat an eyelash and met Anna’s gaze head-on. “We wouldn’t have even been on that road so late if it wasn’t for you. If you would have just come with us in the first place, we would have missed the snow entirely.”
“Really?” Anna said, coolly. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but Alexander told me it had been your idea to ‘pop by’ Beatrice’s and pick me up because you were worried about your birthday.”
Eleanor gasped at Anna’s directness, opened her mouth to respond, but then closed it again, unsure of what to say.
“Tell Alexander I’ll be back to visit him later,” Anna said. “Or don’t.” She climbed into her car and drove off, as Eleanor stood in the front yard staring after her.
Anna’s elation over her victory was short-lived, and by the time she arrived at Staugas Farms, she regretted it. She knew Eleanor would complain to Alexander, and the last thing he needed during his recovery, which was already causing him to miss six weeks of college, was to play referee between his sister and his girlfriend. She really felt for him and of course wanted to help him get through his recovery in any way she could, as she would for any of her close friends. But Alexander wasn’t just a friend, he was her boyfriend. And she was his girlfriend.
Girlfriend, Anna thought to herself. I’m still his girlfriend, even if I don’t feel like it anymore.
The morning when Beatrice woke her up with the news of Alexander’s car accident was a total blur. Vronsky wanted to accompany her to the hospital, but she refused. Instead she woke up Steven. Lolly, who was too hungover to go anywhere, would stay behind and get a ride back to the city from Vronsky. Anna and Steven drove back to Greenwich in silence, though when Steven saw the remnants of the accident on the road, a demolished tree and tire marks in the mud, he said what they were both thinking: “This is how accidents happen … when people go where they shouldn’t be.”
Anna hadn’t responded at the time, but she shared her brother’s sentiment fully. She stared down at her hands in her lap, the same hands that had run through Vronsky’s golden locks only a few hours before. She thought about telling her brother that she had decided to take his advice and break up with Alexander, but she didn’t see the point. Her mother assured her that Alexander and Eleanor were both going to be fine, but Alexander was going to have surgery as soon as Yale’s finest surgeon drove down to handle the VIP case. Anna knew her plans to break up with Alexander would have to be put on hold indefinitely. Until she had more information, there was no alternative.
She did feel weird about her role in the accident, because Alexander and Eleanor would never have been out driving if it weren’t for her, although Anna took comfort in the fact that Eleanor had been the one to push Alexander to come for her on that snowy night. While she absolved herself of that particular guilt, she couldn’t so easily forgive herself for what had occurred between her and Vronsky. Calling it a harmless kiss would be like calling the Titanic a boating accident.
Vronsky, still wearing his kilt, had carried Anna’s bag for her to the Escalade. Steven didn’t question why Vronsky was up that early. He just got into the car and set the GPS to guide them to Greenwich Hospital.
“Please text me later, okay?” Vronsky pleaded softly.
She couldn’t do more than nod at the time for fear she might start crying. And she didn’t want to cry because she wouldn’t have known why. Would her tears be for Alexander or for herself because everything had just become infinitely more complicated? She did hug Vronsky good-bye though, even sneaking a quick kiss onto his neck before she pulled away. She didn’t want to do to Vronsky what she had done to Alexander the night before, which was let him leave (though this time she was doing the leaving) without him knowing where he stood with her. She may not have spoken her words aloud, but she was in love with Vronsky, and there was no turning back.
By the time they reached the hospital Alexander was already in surgery, so Anna, Steven, their mother, and Alexander’s dad sat together in the waiting room. Eleanor had already been discharged from the emergency room and she and her mom were in the city at Lenox Hill Hospital, where the plastic surgeon, who had handled her mother’s chin augmentation, worked to make sure the five cuts that Eleanor suffered were stitched up to minimize any scarring. After Anna and Steven told their version of the events from the night before, everyone took a seat and stared at their phones.
During that time, Anna received a notification that a new player, HeavyV, wanted to start a game of Words with Friends with her. She almost refused the invitation, but there was something about the timing of the request that gave her pause, so she accepted. When she opened the app, she smiled for the first time since she had left Beatrice’s house. She stared at the two-letter word US that he had played and saw there was a message: ME + YOU = US. Anna messaged him back: ME—YOU =:(
Now, weeks after that moment at the hospital, Anna pulled up to the stables and cleared her head of the confrontation with Eleanor. She tapped the WWF app, selecting the only game she had going. Without even glancing at the board (which had built up to a crisscross of low-scoring words: US, YOU, LOVE, ME, SEXY…), she went right t
o the messages. But before she had tapped out even two words there was a knock on her window. Startled, she looked up at Vronsky smiling down at her through the window.
IV
Vronsky and Murf hung out in the stables while Anna rode Mark Antony, but every few minutes he checked his phone to look at the time.
“Maybe you should get a little practice in,” Murf said. “Or are you cocky enough to assume that riding a horse is like riding a bike? Bicycles can’t sense nervous energy, and real talk: every horse in here is buggin’ out with all your pacing.”
“Okay, okay,” Vronsky replied, trying to sound casual but failing. “Beatrice promised me Bunny Hop is the calmest of her mom’s horses, so I’ll be okay.”
“You better be, ’cause the last thing that girl needs is to run around having to take care of your skinny ass, too.” Murf walked out of the stable into the afternoon sun, waiting for his friend to follow. As the two of them walked to the next stable where Beatrice’s mom kept her horses, Murf whistled a tune that Vronsky couldn’t place.
“What song is that?” he asked. “Sounds too upbeat for the likes of you.”
Murf shook his head in embarrassment then admitted it was the new single from LiviX2. Daler and Rowney had gifted it to him on iTunes, and he was surprised by how much he liked it. “When I asked Mr. Staugas if I could take Spring Break off to go to Coachella, he faked a heart attack, then laughed his ass off at me when I was about to dial nine-one-one. In all the years I worked here, I never asked for days off.”
“He said yes?” Vronsky asked, pleased to hear about someone else’s less complicated love life.
“He not only said yes, he told me he wanted to pay for my plane ticket. It’s hard to see a black man blush, but I did when I told him it wasn’t necessary because I was flying private. You’re coming, right?”
