Pulled (12 page)

I cry out for my parents, out of humiliation, out of regret, but most of all, I cry out of
wanting
. A want so desperately basic and pure, and yet devastatingly unattainable: to be allowed to feel something other than the numbness. I want to remember being loved and to able to give that love back.

Curling up into a ball, I let the depression devour me, ravish me, doing absolutely nothing to stand in its way.

Etash

The look in her eyes...the look of absolute panic that swept across her face as she backed out of the theatre has left me terribly unsettled. I've spent the last few hours of the night pacing in my apartment trying to shake a building numbness that is crawling up my spine. But the more I pace, the worse the feeling gets. An overwhelming sense of despair clings to me with every step I take.

As the minutes tick by, everything in my apartment starts to feel painfully bright against the starry night. Even after I turn off all of my lights, a bizarre sensation to find darkness consumes me.

My feet lead me to, of all places, my closet. My hand trembles on the door knob for a moment before I fling it open. The darkness is strangely inviting. I step into my coat closet and I close the door, shutting out the light. Instantly, I start to tremble in the coolness of the unheated space, but can’t seem to will myself to open the door and seek warmth.

Before I even know they are there, tears start rolling down my face. I am crying like a baby, and I have absolutely no idea why.

Chapter 7

Naya

Somewhere during the night, between the anger and the anguish, morning arrives.

It’s the annoying chirping sound of my dorm phone pulsing obnoxiously against the wall that finally forces my eyelids to open. Still securely confined inside my darkened prison, I moan.
How long had I been asleep
? I shift my weight slightly, pushing away a dress dangling in my face. My head throbs and my muscles are stiff. My eyes are puffy and swollen and feel as though I have been crying for hours. I probably have.

A phone rings again, but this time it’s my cell. I don’t move to answer it though. It’s Seth’s ring-tone. He’s called countless times during the night. I know I’ll have to pay for not picking up, but I just don’t have the strength to move right now.

A small beam of light comes in through the space at the bottom of my closet door, and hits me square in the eye. There’s a boot jamming angrily into my back, and that tiny pressure against my spine brings with it the unnerving reality of last night’s episode. And I feel ashamed: ashamed that I'm going through this,
again
.

And that does it. I'm now pissed at myself for allowing the depression to suck me under. I stand up, ignoring my protesting muscles and open the door, letting the morning sunlight blind me; awaken me. I take in a deep sobering breath
. It’s okay; you’re safe now
.
You're not alone. You have Seth.

His ring tone goes off again. Knowing it's dangerous to put him off any longer, I pick up my cell.

“
Hello. I’m fine,” I say quickly, trying to put him at ease. My voice is weak and hoarse.

“
Where are you?” he demands.

I clear my throat. “I’m in my room.”

There's a silence on the end of the line. “Are you alone?” he asks.

“
Seth…I…” I’m so focused on trying to explain why I hadn’t called, that I don’t really hear his question until a moment later.
Wait. Did he just ask if I was alone?

“
I’m coming over,” he says, then the line goes dead.

Okay.
I wasn’t planning on having to talk to him, or anyone, quite so soon after my breakdown. His dorm is only about three blocks from mine, so that gives me about seven minutes to think about what I'm going to say to him.

I briefly contemplate telling him the truth, but that will show weakness, and Seth hates weakness. Which means I'll have to lie.

I have just enough time to run to the bathroom and wash my tear-streaked face, pull a comb through my hair and brush my teeth before he is pounding on the door.
So much for getting out of my pjs
.

I only open the door a crack; afraid to look in his eyes, not sure how angry he’s going to be. He misinterprets my hesitation to let him in as something else completely.

“
Naya? Is someone in there?” His eyes are hot.

My eyes widen with shock.

“
What? Seth, no. There’s no one here,” I reply.

“
Then why aren’t you opening the door?” He is positively fuming now. He pushes past me before I can get a word out and storms into my very empty room. His bloodshot eyes scan the room, hunting.

“
Happy?” I ask through my teeth, put off by his accusation. I assume that no warm bodies in the room will appease him, but it doesn't. He marches over to my messy bed and throws back the covers. Finding it empty, he searches underneath it before he whirls around, glares at me, then heads for my closet.

He catches a tiny shift in my eyes and his fists clench. Pushing me aside he rips open the door and I hold my breath. When he doesn’t see anyone standing inside, he hesitates for a second before stepping inside. He then proceeds to tear my closet apart.

The clothes stop flying after a few crazy seconds and then it gets very quiet. The look on Seth’s face as he emerges from my closet shakes me. His large chest is heaving in frantic jolts. One of his hands is pinched to the bridge of his nose. He’s
crying
.

Guilt takes over and I rush over to him and lace my arms around him, trying desperately to soothe him. His strong arms wrap around me and hold me tight.

“
Naya, when you didn’t answer your phone last night, I thought something happened to you.” He kisses the top of my head softly and strokes my hair, the way my mother used to as a child. “Then when you answered my call this morning, I thought you’d be in the hospital or something, but you were in your room…I guess my mind jumped to the wrong conclusion. I’m sorry.” He pulls my face back to look me in the eyes. “Forgive me,” he whispers.

“
There’s nothing to forgive.” I reach up and kiss him softly. “If anything I should be asking
you
for your forgiveness,” I say, pulling gently away from him. Seth grabs my hand before I can break away.

“
Where
were
you?” His eyes are pleading with me.

“
Here,” I say, simply.

His eyebrows pull together. “Then why didn’t you answer your phone? I called your room
and
your cell at least a dozen times!”

Here it was, the moment of truth, and I was going to lie through my teeth.

“
I had a tough rehearsal last night and I ended up with a migraine,” I whisper, not able to look him in the eye.

“
A migraine?” He doesn’t sound convinced.

“
Yeah, I haven’t had one this bad since...the accident. It hit hard and fast. So, I came home, downed some Tylenol PM, turned off all of the lights and my phones. I just needed it dark and quiet.” I bite my lip, hoping he'll take the bait.

His eyes lighten a touch. “You don't know how worried I was.” He pulls me tight against his arms. The worst of it is over, I think, so I allow myself a small grin.

“
I know. And I'm so sorry.” He lifts my feet off the ground and kisses the nape of my neck. “Thank you for being so understanding,” I say into his chest.

He pushes me back down and looks me in the eye. “Just because I understand, doesn't mean you're forgiven. You should have called me. You should have answered your damn phone! That's why I bought it for you.” Seth walks over to my door and locks it, then closes the blinds. “Now take off your shirt,” he orders, slipping off his belt.

My eyes glaze over. My body shifts into auto pilot. I pull my shirt over my head causing my dark hair to cover my face. The warning crack of his belt sounds so I sink down to my knees and grab onto the handles of my bureau. Shifting my weight to find my center of gravity, Etash's smile flickers once against my closed eyes, and I gasp.

“
I should give you 12 lashes,” he whispers, hot against my ear, “one for each call you didn't answer.” He straightens up and takes a deep breath. “But since it's a school day, I'll only give you six.”

I know I should be scared, but I'm not. I'm just...sad. The first lash comes without his normal warning and I have to hold back a scream that almost escapes. There is just enough time to shove a pair of socks into my mouth and hang on again before the next one comes. By the fourth lash, he's found his rhythm, and so have I. My back has gone numb, along with my mind, so by number six, I don't even flinch.

Etash

When I wake up in the morning I feel completely and utterly drained of all emotion.
Like someone has sucked out every ounce of happiness I've ever felt. Opening the closet door, the sun assaults me and I shiver against its warmth.

Stumbling out, I feel my way to the bathroom and take a long hot shower trying to coax the blood back into the muscles of my upper back. Sleeping in the closet must have done a hell of a number on it. I can't believe how raw and sore it feels.

My stomach growls when I limp out of the shower, but as I start to make breakfast, I feel uneasy again. I opt to get out of my apartment and hit the cafeteria for breakfast instead.

Once there, I pour myself an enormous cup of coffee, which is strange, because I don’t typically care for it. I load my plate with a bowl of granola and some fruit and make my way to the tables when I hear my name being called from across the cafeteria.

“
Yo, Etash! Over here!” It’s Seth. He’s with Naya, and he’s waving me over to their table. I see panic flood into her eyes, but I can’t stop my feet from walking over to them.

“
Etash, man, thanks for coming over,” Seth says.

“
Uh, sure. No problem.”

Naya’s hands jump to her chair, as though she’s holding herself down. Seth doesn’t appear to notice.

“
Have a seat,” he says, kicking out a chair with his foot.” Not sure what else to do, I sit.

“
So, I never got a chance to properly thank you for helping out Naya the other day.”

I don’t tell him I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

“
I was happy to help.”

Naya eyes are glued to her toast. Her lips form a hard thin line. She is clearly upset by my presence.

“
So, Naya tells me you quit the show?” He says with a smirk, forking an entire sausage link into his mouth, clearly pleased. He thinks I left because I was threatened by him.

“
He’s still the Assistant Director,” Naya says, looking up at me for the first time. I’m struck by how pale and ashen her skin looks this morning.

“
Really?” Seth mumbles through a mouth full of food, probably annoyed that he didn't get rid of me completely. He takes a swig of milk and studies me for a moment before he says, “That’s a hell of a scar you got. How did you get it?”

Naya looks up at me wide-eyed, apologetic.

“
Accident,” I say, taking a sip of the bitter coffee.

Seth nods his head and forks a hunk of pancake in his mouth. “So I heard you guys had a tough rehearsal last night?”

“
It was?” I ask, carefully avoiding Naya’s eyes, but do notice that she's keeping her back ram-rod straight.

“
That's what I hear. So, since you're the Director and all,” Seth begins.

“
Assistant Director,” I clarify.

“
My apologies.
Assistant
Director. Can you do me a favor?” Seth asks.