A Small Town Dream (16 page)

“Do you really think that?” she asked. He looked surprised at her earnestness. She seemed to let her guard down completely. He proceeded carefully.

“I do, but, I guess this is something new for you. Am I right?” She nodded. “I’m also guessing that it’s not just about your friend being dead.” He let that sit in the air between them and said nothing more.

She had to admit he was right. She had become cynical. She thought it had started with Parker. She started changing when she saw love waffle and crumble. She confessed to never being in love before Parker and that she wasn’t even sure she loved him. She confessed her lack of experience romantically. She confessed that she was changing, seeing things that she had never seen before. People’s actions, their motivations seemed clearer, more tainted.

“I feel like I stepped out of a fog, like I’ve been willingly walking around with blinders on, and now those are off and it’s all...
different
.” Dean didn’t ask again what Annie thought was different. He knew, from experience, what she meant. “That’s what I mean when I said I was shocked.”

“
Frankly
shocked,” he poked fun at her and she smiled.

“Frankly shocked,” she corrected herself. “So Dean, honestly, can you really say nothing is different?”

“No, you’re right,” he admitted, “that’s just a counseling technique. You assure the struggling, weaker ones that everything is the same. They cling to that, and it gets them through. You, however, are
not
weak, and you clearly see through my bullshit.” She winced at the word. “Sorry, did I offend you?”

“Does that surprise you? Is it such a shock that someone my age doesn’t like language like that? Maybe I’m not as cynical and jaded as you think.”

“I’m sorry, Anne.” She shrugged and continued.

“So tell me, Dean, what do you do when the one thing you based your life on is suddenly torn from you and there’s nothing to take its place?”

“That may well be one of the most adult questions I’ve ever heard from a high school student.” She felt herself begin to blush. “But I honestly don’t know, and I’m sorry. That’s a question that people much, much older and more experienced than you struggle with. Hell—sorry—
heck
, it’s a question I struggle with. If you ever find the answer, we can switch places.” She smiled. It didn’t answer her question, but she liked his honesty.

“Do you talk to the other students like this?” she asked. He shook his head. “Why not?”

“Because other students aren’t you. They don’t ask the questions you do and aren’t handling their time with me the way you are. Honestly, Anne, I have never met another girl...
student
like you.” She saw him blush slightly at his correction of terms, then open her file, and then close it again.
What was happening here
, she asked herself. Did he like her? Like her in more than a counselor-patient way? She decided to test it, push it. Again, she felt herself acting out of character but, she didn’t stop.

“So what’s different about me, Dean,” she asked him, leaning forward in her chair. He cleared his throat, took off his glasses, rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Come on, counselor, answer my question. You’ve been pretty honest up to now. Why stop? She smiled at him, flirting a bit, or flirting as much as she knew how.

He stared at her. She relaxed back into the chair, suddenly feeling like she was in control of the room. She felt good. Strong.
Is this the way Connie felt
, she wondered.

After a long pause, Dean stood up and opened the door to the make-shift office. He then sat back down behind his desk.

“That’s new for you, isn’t it,” he asked and she suddenly felt exposed and stupid. “The whole seduction, flirting thing, that’s new. How’s it working out for you?” She said nothing. “You’re attractive, smart, interesting. You’re secure in yourself. You have a strong moral core, I’m pretty sure, so this isn’t you, is it?”

“What’s not me?”

“This...seductress. Why are you putting this on? It’s like an ill-fitting suit of clothes. What are you looking to gain?”

“I don’t know,” she said and he knew it was the truth. “I guess I thought I’d just try it out, see what it gets me.” He nodded, stood up and walked to the door again. She looked at the clock and realized their time was up. She gathered her backpack and purse. “I’m sorry,” she said, standing to leave. “I guess that was stupid.” He looked out into the hall. No one was around.

“It was only stupid because of the location,” he said quietly. “I appreciate the sentiment though.” She looked into his eyes. They were warm and understanding. She felt her palms begin to sweat and her heart pound faster.

“How old are you, Dean?” she asked him quietly.

“I’m twenty-two.”

“With a master’s? Most people don’t—”

“I’m sort of a
Doogie Howser.
” Annie looked confused. “Ask your folks. They’ll get the joke.” She shook her head. He smiled. “See you again tomorrow?”

“Sure.” She turned to go.

“Oh, hey, what’s the beach like here?” She turned back, her heart pounding again.

“It’s beautiful at sunset.”

“Maybe I’ll take a walk tonight. Well, I’ll see you tomorrow, Anne.” He waved, and she stepped out of his office. He closed the door behind her.

“Isn’t Dean just great?” Annie turned to see
Molly Perth,
a freshman. The poor girl was a mess. Thin, braces, still flat-chested, stringy hair. “He’s so kind, and smart, and... I just
love
him, don’t you?” Annie smiled at her and walked on to her locker.

She stood for a moment, replaying the end of the session. Did she just try to make a date with Dean Moore? Well, if so, was that a
bad
thing? What was happening to her?

She opened her locker and looked into the small mirror hanging on the door, then checked the dry-erase schedule beneath it. Nothing to do after school today.
Good
, she thought,
I’ll have time to get home, shower, change and be fresh for tonight
. She closed her locker and froze. Why did she need to be
fresh
? What was going on?

***

Once at home, Annie went to her room, curled up on her bed and took out her journal. She recorded her session with Dean with as much detail as she could remember, and then wrote,
do I love him? Or is this just that psychology term—transference? Am I
just transferring emotions of gratitude to Dean, and that makes it feel like love?

She wasn’t a sap like Molly or the other self-centered…
weirdos
, Dean had called them. She was just... He was
comfortable
and was just helping her sort out some things. Or was he? She took up her pen once more and let the words flow.

I first fell for Dean Moore after a counseling session trying to sort out my feelings about my best friend being murdered.

She stopped, shocked at what she’d written.

“Oh dear,” she said aloud. “That’s not a story that can end well, is it?”

She closed her journal and went down to dinner.

“All right,” Ellen said, after her second slug of whiskey. “I’ll be honest with you, because you asked me, and because I love you, and because…did you hear that part Annie? Because I love you so—”

“
Fuck
that, Ellen! “Just
tell
me!” Annie Stewart had never used that word in her life. Her friends were stunned.

“Fuck
you
, Annie!” Ellen countered. “Who
are
you anyway? Never mind all this home town, good girl, moral mind, heart of gold stuff. Everybody’s talking. How do we know you
weren’t
in on it with Parker and his…
blood spree
?” Annie couldn’t find one friendly face around her.

“Is that what you all think of me?”
Yes
, Annie read in their eyes, or thought she did. “You might as well tell me.” If the friendships were over in spirit, then they might as well be over in reality. “Come on. Tell me. If I’m as awful as you all think, then I can take whatever you have to dish out.”

“We all think that
you
, Annie Stewart,” Ellen opened, jumping to her feet and pointing an accusing finger, “are a class A, prime grade, blue ribbon bitch.” Annie steeled herself for more. But then Ellen staggered back a few steps, as if she were the one who took the punch. Then she threw herself at Annie. “I am so sorry,” Ellen sobbed, burying her face in Annie’s neck. “But I had to say…we all thought—”

“You all thought I slept with Parker, didn’t you? Tell me. I meant it. I need to know what you all really think of me.”

“That’s not it, Annie,” Ellen sniffled.

“Then what is it? Just tell me.” And so they did.

The floodgates opened. One by one, her friends spelled out changes they’d seen in her. Each and every one of them said she was angry, and edgy, and aloof. Annie
felt
angry, and edgy, but she didn’t know
scared
read as aloof. She honestly thought she’d kept all that hidden and had managed to put up a normal front, to keep the burden of guilt for Connie’s death tightly bound inside her. And yes, there was some concern about her relationship with Parker, so when the dust cleared, and they had all had their say, Annie took a chance.

“Has any of this come from Parker Levitt?” she asked.

“Well,” Ellen spoke for the group again, “there’s been some talk…” She then told Annie some things that Parker had said during his drunken confessions that had trickled back into town. “No one wants to believe it, Annie, but then again, how could we not?”

“Did you know I visited him at the prison?” That news had not traveled. “Well, after hearing what you’ve all had to say, I think I might be able to explain some of it.”

And so, at long last, Annie unburdened herself. Then, one by one, just as they had accused her, they each came and gave her a hug, some two at a time. Annie finally pulled away to catch her breath.

“Wow, it looks like I’m friends with a group of chronic huggers.” Everyone laughed. “I really am glad, though, that you all told me what you’ve been thinking. I didn’t mean to be distant. I just didn’t think…” She trailed off as tears filled her eyes.

“Didn’t think what, sweetie?” Ellen rubbed her back.

“I didn’t think…I didn’t want…”

“Want to what?”

“To complain.”

“Oh, Annie, if you can’t complain to your friends, then they’re not really your friends.” Ellen’s words opened Annie’s floodgate of tears, and another round of hugs ensued. When her tears had slowed, Annie decided to take another chance.

“I want to tell you all something, so you know in advance, so if anything comes back around…” Annie looked around pleadingly. “This time, would you please come to me and tell me first?”

And then she told them she intended to go back and see Parker again.

“I don’t even know what the term really means,” Annie said to Dean. She had decided to meet with him a couple of times a week for the rest of the school year.

“You’re referring to Ellen saying you’re best friends? Or Connie?”

“Connie. And she said it like she meant it, but I don’t know how
I
feel. I’m afraid maybe I just went along because it seemed like the right thing to do.”

“You don’t like to upset people, do you?” Dean said. During their sessions recently, he had made a few comments about her, observations that she felt were very accurate, and this was another one.