What Unbreakable Looks Like

by Kate McLaughlin

  She falls into step with me. “I’m glad he was with you. Fuck, Lex, what if you’d walked home? What if you’d been alone?”

  “Yeah.” It’s all I can think to say, because I keep seeing those pictures of Jaime in my mind.

  “I’m going to buy Zack a coffee when we get to the Queen,” she says.

  My heart gives a little thump. “He’s going to be there?” I haven’t talked to him since Friday. All I can think about is how he sat there with me once he was certain Mitch was gone. Sat with me and made sure I was calm and okay before he left. He even walked me to the door.

  “Yeah. He texted me earlier and asked if I had notes from history.”

  I cast her a sideways glance. “Zack wants your notes?”

  She nudges me with one of her sharp little elbows. “I’m good at history, I’ll have you know.”

  I smile, despite the smarting in my side where she connected. “I don’t doubt it.”

  “I’m surprised Krys and Jamal let you out with Mitch around.”

  “They don’t know.”

  “You didn’t tell them?”

  I shake my head.

  “I have never thought of you as stupid, but I’m reconsidering. What the hell, Lex?”

  “What if they decide I’m too much trouble?”

  “Of course you’re trouble! Loving someone is trouble. If you weren’t worth it, they wouldn’t have taken you in to begin with. You’re not being fair to them.”

  Her words shame me. “I can’t help it.”

  “You’ve been saying that shit since I met you. Maybe it’s time you start helping it.”

  It’s like a smack to the head. I didn’t think anyone could hurt me anymore, but she has.

  “What the fuck do you know about it? You don’t know what it’s like not to know who you can trust.”

  She whirls on me, an angry sprite. “My uncle—my favorite uncle—molested me when I was twelve. When I finally got the courage to tell my mother, she cut him off. Had him arrested. His wife stopped speaking to us. I haven’t seen my cousins since. I felt like I destroyed Mom’s family and thought everyone hated me. I wanted to kill myself.” She holds up her arms so I see those pretty tattoos. “I tried.”

  I stare at her, mouth open, stupefied. “El…”

  She’s scowling at me. “You’re not the only person who has had something horrible happen to them. You can stay shut down forever and never let anyone in, and die broken and lonely, or you can live your life and try to let people love you, Lex. It’s your fucking decision, but don’t tell me you can’t help it. You’re the only one who can.”

  She stomps off ahead of me. I stand there staring after her for about a minute before I give chase. Her legs are short, so it doesn’t take me long to catch up. I grab her by the arm, and when she turns to face me, I hug her. I hug her like I never want to let her go. Tears trickle down my cheeks.

  “I’m so sorry,” I whisper.

  She nods and pulls away. She’s crying too, but she wipes them away. “It was a long time ago, and I’m okay now. You’re going to be okay.”

  I know she believes that, and I want to believe it too. I wipe my face with the backs of my hands, and we keep walking.

  “So, tell me more about Maisie,” I say.

  Elsa smiles.

  * * *

  When we get to the Bean Queen, not only is Zack there, but so is Mike.

  “We can leave,” Elsa says.

  “No,” I say. I don’t feel anything when I look at him, so I don’t care if he’s there or not. Technically, I think he’s supposed to leave, but whatever. “Let’s get drinks and sit with Zack.” Mike won’t try anything with Zack there.

  Wait. I don’t need Zack to protect me. I can protect myself against guys like Mike. It’s guys like Mitch I need help with.

  “Hey, guys,” Maisie says when we reach the counter. I notice how she smiles at Elsa, like she’s the most amazing thing Maisie’s ever seen. She is pretty awesome.

  I order a chai latte with a shot of pumpkin spice. I love that it’s pumpkin spice season now. It’ll be Halloween soon. Elsa gets some caramel cider thing that probably has a gazillion calories in it, and we join Zack at his table. He’s sitting there with his history book and a notebook. He thanks Elsa when she gives him her notes.

  “You study a lot,” I remark, feeling awkward.

  He smiles. “I have a part-time job, so I need to cram as much into my free time as I can.”

  “Where do you work?” Elsa asks. Why have I never asked him that?

  “At the Y. With an after-school program for little kids three days a week. I teach sports and stuff.”

  Elsa melts a little. “Aw. That’s so cute.”

  Behind me, I feel Mike’s gaze burning a hole in the back of my head. I don’t turn around, even though it’s like an itch demanding to be scratched. I hear him and his friends talking, their voices rough and angry, but I can’t quite make out what they’re saying with Elsa chattering beside me.

  Maisie sits down with us. “I’m on my fifteen,” she says, and leans over to kiss Elsa quickly on the cheek.

  “Slip her the tongue!” one of Mike’s friends yells.

  Elsa glares at them. “Don’t you have a court date to prepare for?” she asks.

  That shuts them up, but only for a second.

  “Yeah, and your fucking slut friend is to blame for that,” one of them says.

  I sigh. All I wanted was a quiet night. How long has it been since I had one of those? Lately, it seems like every day brings some new kind of drama with it. Still, when I hear a chair being pushed back, I tense. Elsa and the others look up. One of them is coming over.

  I make myself meet his gaze.

  “You’ve ruined my life,” Mike says. “You know that, right?”

  “I didn’t have anything to do with that,” I tell him.

  “You told Case we raped you.”

  “I told my therapist what happened. She’s the one who called the police, and what would you call what you did, Mike?”

  He blinks. “It wasn’t fucking rape. You wanted it. You went at us like ice cream cones.”

  “Hey,” Zack says. “Shut the fuck up.”

  I shake my head. “I didn’t want it.”

  “You didn’t say no, did you?” Mike’s angry, disgusted expression tells me he thinks it actually matters.

  “Do you know what would happen to a girl at the motel if she said no?” I ask. I don’t give him time to answer. “The same thing that was going to happen if she said yes—only a lot more violently.”

  He doesn’t get it. His eyes are indignant, showcasing how sheltered and easy his life has been up until now. Until me.

  I look at Elsa. Her lips are pursed and her cheeks are red. She’d tear Mike apart if I asked her to. Zack looks close to taking a swing at him. He went after Mitch, even though he had no idea what he might have been running toward.

  They like me, these two people. Elsa, I think, even loves me. I love her as much as I let myself, but at that moment, I want to love her like she deserves. I want to appreciate the danger Zack put himself in for me. And I want to feel something beyond sadness and mediocrity.

  I want to be okay.

  I stand. My knees shake, so I keep one hand on the back of my chair. I turn to Mike. He’s taller than me, but at least we’re more evenly matched.

  “Do you remember those scars you asked me about?”

  He nods, frowning.

  “That’s what saying no got me.” I swallow. “Mike, you knew what happened to me, and you took advantage of it. You knew I wouldn’t say no—that I couldn’t. You planned to get me in that bathroom and let your friends do whatever they wanted to me. How would you feel if Julie’s boyfriend made her give blowjobs to his friends?”

  Julie is his younger sister. I shouldn’t have to mention her, but her name hits him hard.

  “I’m glad you got arrested,” I continue. “I’m glad you were expelled. You can blame me if yo
u want, but it’s your own fault you’re in trouble. I am not a thing to be shared with your friends, and you are a fucking terrible person for treating me that way.”

  Elsa jumps to her feet. “That’s right, asshole!”

  I turn to the rest of the coffee shop, who are looking at us with curiosity. Most of them are college students, and girls.

  “I’m the girl who was assaulted at school last week,” I say, my voice loud, but trembling. They all stare at me in surprise. I point at Mike and his friends. “You probably heard about it. These are the guys who did it. They thought they could because I’m”—not a victim, not a survivor—“because I was once forced to have sex with a lot of people. Oh, and because I didn’t say no. Who do you think is worse, me or them?”

  The onlookers exchange confused and uncomfortable glances.

  “Them,” says a girl a little older than us. Her face is red and her eyes glitter. “Definitely them, sweetie.”

  “Yeah,” says someone else.

  A few more murmur in agreement. A few nod. A couple just sit there and do nothing. Their silence speaks louder than the music playing over the speakers. Their answer is me.

  I turn back to Mike. I’m shaking more than ever. In fact, I think I might be sick, but I feel light and almost giddy. I told a room full of people what happened to me, and the world didn’t end. Even if some of them think I’m to blame, I know I’m not.

  I don’t know what to do, so I start walking. I don’t stop until I’m outside. I grab the rim of the garbage can on the sidewalk for support because my knees are still shaking. I’m okay. I’m okay. Just breathe.

  And I throw up.

  chapter sixteen

  “Wanna go for a drive?”

  I glance up from the trash can to see Zack hovering over me. He hands me my latte, and I take a drink to get the taste of vomit out of my mouth. Inside the shop it looks like some of the college girls are confronting Mike and his buddies as they get up from their seats.

  “Yeah.” I want to be as far away as possible.

  “Let’s go.” He jangles his keys like he always does. “Text Elsa and let her know you’re with me. We’ll come back for her later if she wants.”

  I send a brief text, and we cross the street quickly. As I’m getting into the car, the door to the Queen flies open and Mike and his buddies pour out. One of them kicks the garbage can I puked in, toppling it. What would he have done to me if I’d still been standing beside it?

  “I shouldn’t have done that,” I say once we’re a few blocks away.

  I feel him glance at me. “I don’t know about that. I think you might have gotten through to him—Mike, I mean.”

  I shrug. “Maybe.”

  We turn onto Washington Street and drive past Wesleyan buildings, houses, businesses. Finally, we take another turn, and I realize where we’re headed. “Wadsworth?”

  “Yeah. I like it. Do you mind?”

  I shake my head. “I like it too.”

  Krys took me to Wadsworth Park when I first got Isis. It’s got some great hiking trails and it’s perfect for dogs. It’s usually pretty quiet unless the LARPers are out.

  We park in the gravel lot. “Do you want to walk or sit?” he asks.

  “Sit,” I say. My legs are still weak. I stare through the windshield at the dark sky. “I can’t believe how short the days are getting.”

  Zack laughs. “Seriously?”

  I smile a little. “It’s true.”

  He takes a drink of his coffee and shakes his head. “You just did one of the bravest things I’ve ever seen, and you want to talk about the earth’s eternal dance around the sun?”

  Dance. That’s a nice way to phrase it. “You think that was brave? I was shaking the entire time. I puked.”

  “Yeah, but you did it.”

  “Doesn’t change anything.”

  “It might have changed Mike.”

  I’m not sure what to say. I’m tempted to tell him people don’t change, but that’s a lie. I changed. Mitch changed me.

  I unbuckle my seat belt. “Do you hope your dad will change?”

  “Nah.” He sets his cup in one of the holders between us. “I used to when I was a kid, but I gave up on that. He doesn’t think he’s the one with the problem.”

  “You and your mother are.”

  “Bingo.”

  “Bingo? What are you, ninety?” The second I say it, I feel bad. What if he doesn’t take it as a joke?

  “You found me out. I’m a centuries-old vampire trapped in an eighteen-year-old body, damned to an eternity of senior year.”

  “Wow,” I say. “Sucks to be you.”

  Zack laughs, and I smile. I feel like I should thank him for being so nice to me when he really doesn’t know me that well yet.

  “Do you ever feel sorry for yourself?” he asks me. “When you think about what you’ve been through?”

  Is he joking? “Yeah.” And, because I’m not sure I want our conversation to turn heavy, “If I don’t, who will?”

  He chuckles again and takes another drink of his coffee. The shaking in my legs has almost stopped.

  “You said something to Mike about scars. Do you have more than the ones I saw?” He’s never mentioned the night I took my shirt off in front of him.

  “Yeah,” I say softly. “Do you have any others?”

  He nods but doesn’t elaborate. “You didn’t tell your aunt and uncle about the guy watching the house, did you?”

  “Sure I did,” I lie, but when he looks at me, I know he can see right through me. “No.”

  “You should tell the cops.”

  “You should mind your own business.”

  One of Zack’s eyebrows lifts. “Getting defensive only tells me you know I’m right. What are you afraid of?”

  I consider changing the subject. But it’s dark and safe in his car, and he makes me feel the same way Dr. Lisa does—that I can say anything. I don’t know if I can trust it, but my tongue doesn’t care. “That they’ll decide I’m not worth the trouble anymore. That they don’t want me.”

  “Do you really believe that?”

  I shrug. “They wouldn’t be the first people to kick me to the curb.”

  “I don’t think they would have taken you in if they didn’t want you.”

  Another shrug.

  “You must have incredibly developed shoulder muscles,” he says dryly. “All that shrugging.”

  I look at him. In the dark I can barely tell he’s smiling. “I was starting to like you,” I say. “But you’re making me rethink it.”

  He laughs. “You want me to take you home?”

  “No.” I lean my head against the back of the seat as I look at him. “I’ll tell them.”

  “Hey, you’re right, it’s really none of my business. I just want you to be safe.”

  “You don’t even know me,” I scoff.

  “I know you and Elsa were the first people to make me feel welcome here. I know you hate being called a victim as much as I do. I know that despite everything that’s happened, you want to be okay.” He takes a drink. “And I know you don’t completely trust me, but I think we might be friends.”

  I want to ask him why he would even want that—but I don’t. “Okay,” I say.

  Zack laughs again. “The verbal equivalent of a shrug.”

  Heat fills my cheeks. “What do you want me to say?” The words thicken as they come out of my mouth. How many times had I asked that same question of a stranger?

  “Nothing,” Zack replies. “You can say or not say whatever you want. It’s all good.”

  He can’t be this good. This nice. Not really. “What if I said I wanted to fuck you? Right here, right now?”

  He goes perfectly still, a little frown pinching the skin between his eyebrows. When he finally looks at me, his shadowed face looks sad. “I’d think you were lying.”

  I move closer. “Still think it?”

  “Yes.” His gaze meets mine. “Why are you doing this?”r />
  “Because no guy turns down free sex, even if he says he’s nice.”

  Zack turns away, sets his cup down, and turns the key. “This guy does,” he says as the car roars to life. “Put your seat belt on, Lex. I’m taking you home.”

  * * *

  The next morning, Krys drives me to school because I finally told her and Jamal about seeing Mitch. She called Detective Willis and now we’re going to have regular patrols outside our house at night.

  That won’t freak the neighbors out.

  “The boys are going to court on Wednesday for their plea hearing,” she tells me.

  “Do I have to be there?” I ask, glancing out the window. The leaves are rapidly turning red and gold as the weather cools. It’s pretty.

  “No. You won’t have to give testimony until it goes to trial.”

  “Okay.”

  My aunt clears her throat. “Detective Willis also wanted me to tell you there’s a service for the girl they found—Jaime?—on Friday if you want to go.”

  Do I want to go to a church and see Jaime in a box? See that box put into the ground and covered over like she never existed? No. But do I want the chance to say goodbye? “I’d like to, yeah.”

  Krys smiles. This is what she hoped I would say. “Good.”

  She drops me off at the front of the school a little before the first bell. I ignore the looks I get as I walk to my locker. When I get there, I sigh. The small group of students gathered in front of it disperses when they see me. I hear their laughter echo as they walk away.

  The entire door of my locker is wallpapered in my Stall313.com ad. Pictures of me in my underwear—thin and stoned—posing for Mitch and his camera. My hair is in pigtails in a couple of them, the underwear white and frilly. He really liked the “little girl” aesthetic.

  “You think that’s funny, asshole?”

  I smile at the sound of Elsa’s voice, followed by a sharp “Ow!” I can only imagine what she did to the “asshole.” Kicked him, probably. She likes to wear clunky boots sometimes.