Our Song (8 page)

“Yeah.” Of course I do. One of the best decisions Mr. West ever made. “Why?”

“Well, Trip accused me of asking Mr. West to sing with you, saying that I wanted to date you instead of him. I told him over and over again that it wasn’t true. But he didn’t believe me. The next day, he came back and apologized to me, saying he didn’t mean to yell at me, or accuse me of anything. That he didn't want to hurt me. But that he still didn’t want me to sing with you. So I told him I would find a way to get out of it.”

“But you never asked to get out of it. At least not that I heard.”

“Please. I’m almost done. I told him I would find a way to get out of it, but I never even tried to. I wanted to sing that song with you. And if this was the only way I could do something that I wanted to do, well, then he didn’t need to know about it.

“Two weeks later, he found out, from Hillary, that I was still working on that duet with you…”

-----

Becca

I pulled into Trip’s driveway after my shift at the hardware store was over. As I pulled the keys out of my ignition, the radio clock read 5:37 PM.

I hopped out of my car, leaving it unlocked since I was the one driving to the movie theater. I was exhausted, but Trip had been bugging me all week to see the action flick that came out the previous weekend. So, I finally gave in today so I wouldn’t have to hear him talk about it anymore.

I knocked twice on the door, then opened it. Trip’s parents never kept it locked, and his mom had very firmly told me to just come on in whenever I came over, after the second time that I had stopped by and waited at the door for someone to answer it.

As I turned to close the door behind me, Trip walked into the hallway and immediately started screaming at me.

“What the hell, Becca? I have to hear from Hillary, of all people, that my girlfriend is singing with that idiot, Asher, when she specifically told me she was going to find a way to get out of doing it?!”

I stood against the wall, frozen. I wasn’t sure if it would be best to just let him get it all out, or if I should try to defend myself right away. But Trip didn’t wait long enough for me to make a decision.

“You won’t even deny it! And you shouldn’t, because I already asked Mr. West if you were singing with Asher, and he said yes. You want to know what I think? I think you have been cheating on me with Asher. I think the reason you’ve refused to sleep with me, over and over again, is because you’ve been screwing Asher this whole time. You’re nothing but a dirty little slut.”

I could hardly see Trip through the tears I was trying to hold back. But it was no use. The sobs began racking my body, making it impossible for me to respond to Trip’s accusations. He stood there, staring me down, fists clenched at his sides. His face was getting redder by the moment, and I knew he was about to explode.

I took a deep breath, and whispered, “It’s not true.”

A wicked sneer came across Trip’s face. “Is that so?”

I got a little braver. “Yes. I have never—not once—cheated on you with
anybody
, and the reason I won’t sleep with you is because I’m a virgin, and I plan on staying that way. I made a promise, before God, to wait until I was married. You
know
that.”

Trip made it pretty obvious that he didn’t believe me when he rushed up to me and punched the wall next to my face.

I began crying harder again. I whispered through my tears, “I’m telling you the truth.”

He immediately pressed his entire body against mine, one hand pressed slightly against my throat, while his other arm wrapped around me, holding my arms to my body. “Well, I don’t believe a word you just said. I think since Asher’s already gotten a piece of you, it’s about time I got my fair share. After all, I’m the one who’s actually been dating you for the last seven months.”

Tears continued to stream down my face as Trip ran his tongue up my neck to my ear. I didn’t know what to do to make him stop. Between Trip’s hand restricting my vocal chords, and my crying, I barely managed to get out a hoarse, “Please Trip. Don’t do this.”

His response to my plea was to run his lips across my neck and to my other ear before whispering, “Becca. I would rather see you dead than to see you with Asher.”

His words terrified me, seeming to trigger my fight response. I tried to push Trip off of me, and strangled out, “Please Trip! Just let me go!” My pushing and wriggling did me no good. Trip was stronger than I was.

He sucked my ear lobe into his mouth. When he released it, he whispered, “Never.”

He released my neck, moving that hand down my body, stopping to feel my left breast, then continuing down my stomach, where he started to unbutton my jeans.

A wordless scream left my body. Trip covered it with a kiss, as he moved his hand from my now-released button to my zipper.

Just as I went limp with hopelessness, I heard Trip’s dad yell, “Trip, what in the Sam Hell are you doing?!” He ran down the hall, and ripped Trip off of me.

I stayed against the wall, but leaned over, putting my hands on my knees, trying to breathe.

I hadn’t even noticed her in all the commotion, but Trip’s mom had come up to me, and put her arm around my shoulders. But after what Trip had done to me, I didn’t want her to touch me. I didn’t want anyone to touch me. I shrugged her arm off, and ran out the front door, zipping and buttoning my pants between the front steps and my car.

I jumped into the front seat, locked my doors and grabbed my phone. I thanked God that my mom was on speed dial, or I might not have been able to find her name through my tears.

“Hey Becca. What’s up? I thought you were going to a movie with Trip?”

“Mom?” I croaked out, then started sobbing all over again…

-----

Asher

Silent tears are streaming down Becca’s face. They haven't really stopped since she started her story. I wipe them away with my thumbs, and tell her, “You don’t have to tell me the rest. I don’t want to hurt you any more than you already have been.”

“I want to. And you’re not hurting me. He did.” Becca starts turning her purity ring around her finger, and I slide my hands down her arms, then carefully pull her hands apart, and give her hands a small squeeze. “Anyway, she could barely understand me through my tears, but I asked her to come pick me up, because I couldn’t drive while I was crying. My dad drove her over, and she drove me home in my car. When I finally calmed down enough to talk, I told them everything, from the very beginning. They had suspected that I wasn’t really happy in our relationship, but they didn’t have a clue about everything Trip had done to me. When I finished telling them what happened, my parents apologized for not realizing what was going on. But it wasn’t their fault, and I told them that. Then my dad called Trip’s dad, and we all agreed to meet back over at their house to discuss what had happened.

“I had already told my parents I didn’t want to date him anymore, and they knew everything that had happened, so I didn’t say a word the entire time we were there. In front of all of our parents, Trip promised never to talk to me, or touch me, again. His parents asked us to not press charges, as Trip was getting the punishment of a lifetime from them, although they understood if we still wanted to. I shook my head no, that I wouldn’t do that. I just wanted to get the heck out of there. I knew I was going to have to still see him in the hallways at school. But something like this on his record would mean he would not be moving nice and far away from me to go to college. And I didn’t want to add to the reasons that Trip might want to hurt me. I went out and sat in the car while my parents told his parents everything else that happened before that day, because they wanted to know. And I never wanted to relive those moments again.”

She can’t seem to speak anymore through the tears that are now pouring like rain from her eyes. I continue to wipe away as many as I can.

Becca breathes in, holds it, then finally blows it out. “And Trip kept his promise. He never said a word to me, or touched me again.”

Until now.

I know I promised Becca I wouldn’t do anything. But if
I
ever get my hands on
him
…I’ll kill him.

Chapter Ten

Becca

The moment I stop talking, I lean my face into Asher’s chest, and just start sobbing again. I can’t believe I just told Asher all of that. But now that it’s all off my chest, I can’t stop crying. He wraps his arms around me, and starts slowly rubbing my back. I just need something to hold onto, so I slide my arms around his back, and hang on tight.

When I can finally breathe normally again, I say, “I know. I’m stupid. And weak. And I shouldn’t let one little post on Facebook upset me like this.”

Asher runs his hands from my back, over my shoulders, up my neck, and cups my face, forcing me to look him in the eyes. “Becca, you are not stupid. Or weak. You are one of the strongest people I know. And you have every right to be upset about that post. Hell, I’m upset about that post.”

“You really think that?” I find it hard to believe. I think I’m stupid for dealing with my relationship with Trip the way I did. And I certainly feel weak.

“Of course I think that. You are an amazing person. And Trip is the world’s biggest douche bag. If I could, I would—“

“No. You promised. You promised you wouldn’t try to do anything about it. I didn’t tell you so that someone would seek some sort of revenge for me, or for you to feel sorry for me, or anything like that. I told you because I wanted to be honest with you. And I wanted you to understand why I am acting like a lunatic.”

“I know. And I won’t. And I’m glad you were honest with me. And yes, I understand now why you’re acting the way you are, but you are most definitely not acting like a lunatic. You are acting like you’re scared. And I would be too, after what he said, and what he’s already done in the past. But Becca, I think you need to tell your parents.”

“Maybe…I don’t know. I don’t want to get them worried about something that’s on the stupid internet.” I start to turn my face away, but Asher’s hands are still on my face, and he turns me back to look at him.

“I know you probably don’t want to do this, but do you think it would be alright if I read the comments on that post? And if I read the text messages on your phone, which I suspect are from Trip?”

I’m not sure if I want Asher to read all of that, but I really don’t think I can do it myself. “There’s also a voicemail on my phone that’s probably from him too. And no, I don’t think I can read any of that, or listen to his voice. You go ahead and read or listen. Or not. Whatever you want. But I can’t be here while you do it. I’ll go out on the couch or something while you do it.”

“No. You stay here. Lay down. Rest. I will go out into the game room to take care of this. I’ll let you know if there’s anything you have to know, but otherwise, do you want me to keep it to myself?”

“Please? I just…I don’t want to know.”

I move off of Asher’s lap, and up toward my pillows. Asher slides off the bed, then tucks me into it. He leans over me, to brush my hair off of my face, and says “I promise. I will do whatever I can to help fix this.” With his face only inches from mine, I push myself up, just enough to kiss him on the cheek, and whisper a thank you before rolling over to face the wall. I’m exhausted, and need a few minutes to myself.

-----

Asher

The first thing I do when I get into the game room is set Becca’s phone on the coffee table, plunk down on the couch, and rub the crap out of my eyes. Between staying up all night, and this, I’m exhausted. But this is much more important than sneaking in a nap.

I pick Becca’s phone back up, and scroll through the comments on Trip’s post on her wall. Becca may not believe it, but she has some amazing friends, even after everything that’s happened. The girls she plays volleyball with, and a bunch from the track team, have all supported Becca through their responses to Trip’s post. A number of them asked Trip to delete it, since it was obvious Becca hasn’t been online, and they had a
whole lot
of things to say about Trip himself. I’m tempted to delete his post off her wall myself, but I don’t want to do that without asking Becca’s permission. And if she tells her parents, they’re going to want to see exactly what he said. I take a few screen shots, making sure to get the entire post, just in case.

Once I finish scrolling through all of the comments, I open Becca’s text messaging app. Seven of the eight text messages are from Trip. The eighth one is from Livvie. That must be why she had wanted to talk to Becca when they got back from fishing. Livvie must have seen the post online. And it’s pretty obvious Livvie didn’t tell their parents, because I can’t imagine in a million years that Amy and Rich would let Becca find out about this on her own if they could help it.

I open the texts from Trip, and they start out simply enough:

Trip: Are you seriously out of town with Asher?

Trip: Are you going to respond to me?

Trip: Well, your not responding to me says a WHOLE lot.

But they get worse…a LOT worse:

Trip: It’s pretty obvious that you lied, and you were fucking him before you broke up with me.

Trip: Why else would you be hours from home with that asshole?

Trip: I knew you were a bitch, but you could at least have the decency to admit the truth to me.

And I don’t even want to think about what that last text message said. I almost delete the whole conversation, when a thought occurs to me. Her parents told Trip’s parents she wouldn’t press charges when he promised not to talk to her, or touch her anymore. But he just attempted to communicate with her, among other things. And if nothing else, this is harassment.

I’m about to listen to the voicemail when Amy walks into the room. I hadn’t heard her coming down the stairs, so she must have come in the door downstairs. She closes the game room door behind her, and comes to sit down next to me on the love seat.

“Something happened with Trip, didn’t it.” It’s a statement, not a question.

Was she expecting something to happen? “But how did you—“

“I’m a mother, it’s not hard to figure out. Becca is sleeping, in the middle of a lovely day, and you are in another room with her phone. Now, what happened?”

I tell her about the post on Facebook, and that it was because I had checked-in with Becca the day before.

“This isn’t your fault, Asher. I’ve been expecting something like this to happen for months. I’m just glad we’re so far away from him when it happened.”

“Becca told me what happened. With Trip. What he did to her.”

A sad smile comes across Amy’s face. “I thought she might. In fact, I hoped she might. She has been keeping all of this to herself for so long…and I know you won’t use the information to hurt her.”

“Are you kidding me? I would
never
—“ I stop short, when another thought occurs to me. “Umm, Mrs.—I mean, Amy. I don’t think Trip is as far away as we wish he was…I’m pretty sure this is move-in weekend at UW. Which would mean Trip is only about an hour away from here.”

Amy’s eyes widen. “I think you might be right. I need to go talk to Rich, and have him call Trip’s parents, to let them know that Trip isn’t keeping his end of the deal up.”

“Oh, ok. That’s actually probably a good idea.” As much as I wish I could be the one to make all of this go away for Becca, I’m glad there’s someone who can do something about it. “Oh, and Amy?”

“Yeah?”

“You might want Becca’s phone. It wasn’t just the Facebook post, although Becca hasn’t seen any of the rest. He left seven text messages on her phone. They’re not very nice. And I was just about to listen to the voicemail he left her.”

Amy reaches over and hugs me. “Thank you, Asher. For taking care of my baby girl. Rich and I will take care of this. Don’t worry about it. If you would just stay down here with her? In case she wakes up?”

“Absolutely.” I will do anything I can to make Becca feel better.

Anything.