Swell (19 page)

Hillman especially enjoyed watching my ears burn. His flame-red hair was slicked back, and he wore a blue suit that made him look like a real pimp. His piercing eyes sizzled with zest as I peeled back the layers of my memory from the time I woke in the car until Christian arrived. I felt that he liked hearing about how he overpowered me.

My father kept his right hand in a fist the whole time.

When I finished, I had the insatiable urge to reach up and pull the rubber mask from over my head. If it had been that easy to get rid of my ill-fashioned persona I would have done so right there.

“Honey, we’re going to get something to eat.” My mom put her arm around my shoulders. I looked into her green eyes and saw that she felt sorry for me.

“I’m not hungry.” Seriously, I wanted nothing and had an appetite for the same thing. Even the thought of an ice cold beer couldn’t make my saliva flow.

“You don’t have to eat if you don’t want to.”

We went to one of the attorney hangouts near the courthouse. A place that smelled of syrup, coffee, and years of use. I had only a glass of water with a lemon wedge stuck on the side.

My dad was trying to make conversation. “You did good, Rebecca.”

“I… I’m sorry.” I wanted to stand up and run away. That would accomplish nothing, and cause my parents even more stress that I’d gone off the deep end.

My mom stroked my hair and drew me into her chest, like she used to when I was little. Her comforting hands brought heavy sobs from my chest. Others in the restaurant watched me, and I hoped they got a good look.

At home, I overheard my parents talking about what my lawyer had said. That Hillman and the boys who drugged me would probably get very little jail time and then probation. Essentially, they would be free while I would never be free of the experience they put me through.

I mentioned this to Christian that night.

“If I see him looking at you again, I just might kill him.”

Knowing that Christian felt that way gave me reassurance that I was safe, no matter what the court decided.

/////

I was happy to return to school and practically pranced to art class. Surely, seeing Jesse’s face and yes, even the jacket, would lift me out of my funk. But when I saw the empty desk — no jacket, no beef jerky or fruit roll-ups, nor cynical grin — my heart sank to new levels.

“Do you know where Jesse is?” Mr. Stanley took off his reading glasses and gave me a “who knows?” look.

“Absenteeism happens more than I care to admit,” he said.

“I thought teachers were supposed to know the whereabouts of their students.”

“We’re not as perfect as you think.”

I returned to my desk and began working on my half of the buddy project. It wasn’t the same as when Jesse was there, not because I couldn’t observe what he was doing in relation to my piece, but because I felt very alone.

My feelings surprised me, because it wasn’t like I didn’t love Christian. I did. It’s just that Jesse was a positive beam of light in my foggy world. His insight into my inner being was uncanny, as if he’d been down the same road and knew where it twisted and turned.

With Christian, it was all about keeping tabs on my physical well-being. He had taken to waiting for me outside of my last class every day. I wasn’t used to his showing me how much he cared. He was wearing, ironically, a newer and more stylish version of Jesse’s jacket. I looked him up and down before laughing.

“What? Do I look funny?” He smiled and put his arm around me.

“No. It’s just that your jacket reminded me of something funny.”

“What’s so funny about a jacket?”

“Oh, it brings back memories of someone I knew who had one like it.” I hoped he wouldn’t push too hard for more information. Instead, he peeled it off and handed it to me.

“What do you want me to do with this?”

“It’s yours, Beck. I never liked khaki anyway.”

Chapter 21

David was ready to give up on me. I wouldn’t go to A.A. or any other program for that matter. He thought that my future hinged on whether I would attend one or not. He’d say that without the right support, I was powerless to overcome the trauma of what I’d experienced. By admitting that I was an alcoholic who needed help, I would be free of the self-hatred, shame, and sense of worthlessness that got me to drink in the first place.

“That’s bullshit.” I leaned over and threatened to blow out his candle.

“Rebecca, you’ve learned to hide what is going on inside so well that you don’t even feel the pain.”

“What have I got to hide? It doesn’t hurt at all when I drink. I do it because I like to. And right now I want to stop talking about it.”

He shook his head, took out his notebook, and scribbled a few notes in the margins. I wanted to get hold of the damn thing and use the candle to light it on fire.

“Look, David. We both know I’m not going to admit to any fake problem. There’s two minutes left on your clock, and I’ll do you a favor and leave now. That’ll give you more time to write-down how fucked-up you think I am in your little book.” I grabbed my purse and slammed the door on the way out.

The next client looked up from her magazine, her greasy hair pasted back behind her ears. She was the epitome of what David was looking for — a pathetic case of never-get-well, the kind of client that put food on his table. The eternal mess, always broken and never fixed.

My mom, who was waiting in the car, glanced at her watch and noticed the miniscule time discrepancy.

“You’re early.”

“His clock was fast.”

Her eyebrows shot up and then relaxed. It was only a minute, not 30. She was learning to pick her battles.

My phone buzzed in my pocket, and I debated for a moment whether to answer it in front of my mom. I liked to keep things private, especially when the calls came from Christian. I didn’t hesitate to answer the phone when I saw it was Jesse.

“Jesse!”

“Boy, you sound joyful. What happened? Did your mom buy you a Happy Meal or something?”

“Where have you been the last two days? We have work to do!”

He cleared his throat and let out a little chuckle. “I’ve been working on something else.”

“What else do you have to do besides our art project?” After all, he didn’t have a job or similar commitment to my knowledge.

“It’s nothing. Look, you’re right about us having work to do. Can I come by tonight?”

“I have English homework, and I’ve been in…” I caught myself before saying
therapy
. Surely someone like Jesse, who knew to some extent what I’d been through, would understand that I needed to see a counselor. Even if that counselor sucked.

“You’ve been, I’ve been, we’ve all been.” He went off on a tangent of silliness, bringing an excited laugh from my lungs.

“Anyway, I guess you could come over for a little bit. Let me ask.” I covered the phone and gave my mom a questioning glance.

“Can Jesse come over and work on the project tonight? Just for an hour.”

“You said you had homework.”

“The art project is homework, Mom!”

She sighed and pulled onto our street.

“Okay, Rebecca. Anytime after 6:30 is fine.”

If uncovering the phone was the equivalent of running, I would have been hitting warp speed.

“Jesse, come over anytime after 6:30.” I sounded out of breath.

“Great. How about 7?”

“Okay. That’ll work.”

“Work it will be. Don’t forget to breathe between now and 7.”

“Oh, yeah, right. I won’t. See you later.”

“Late!” He disappeared from the line.

My mom turned to look at me after we pulled into our driveway.

“I’m assuming that because Jesse is coming over, that you won’t be going out with Christian tonight?” A chill ran up my spine. To my knowledge, my parents thought I had a limited relationship with him, especially after he went on the Forbidden List. Never very good with sticking to their discipline, they’d allowed Christian to slide back into my life little by little. However, going out with him at night would never have received approval.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yes, you do. I’ve heard you climb out the window.” I had no response, which was basically admitting guilt.

“Your father has no clue that you do this, just me. Remember, I used to be 15. I climbed out the window to meet boys.”

“So you
do
understand,” I said, amazed that we were having a girl moment.

“However, you’ve had a whole different experience than me, and I’m very concerned about where you’re headed.”

“I’m not headed anywhere. I just want to see him.”

She pursed her lips before speaking. “Are you still drinking?”

My head shook with a rapid NO. Of course I was going to respond like that. I could tell my mom wanted to say something else, but instead she turned off the car and looked at me.

“It would be nice if you saw someone like Jesse more often. He seems so good-hearted.”

I couldn’t agree more with my mom.

/////

I shoveled dinner into my mouth and swallowed it nearly whole. It was spaghetti, so it didn’t matter if I chewed it or not. My stomach would pay the price for this whole food diet later.

“Honey, slow down.” My mom gave me a big-eyed glance. She knew I was eager to see Jesse, and probably hoping that I’d feel this way more often.

Christian wasn’t too happy about not seeing me, though. I told him I had to work on a project because my art buddy had been absent and we were running behind.

“Who’s your art buddy?”

“This guy, Jesse.”

“Is he gay?”

“I don’t think so. Why are you asking me that?”

“Most guys who do art are gays, right?” Christian’s coddled upbringing was showing through his cool exterior.

“That’s like saying all hairdressers are gay. They’re not.”

“I don’t like you doing a buddy project with a guy.” A tad jealous? Christian wasn’t holding back his feelings now that there was no reason to do so.

“It’s nothing. He’s a loner.”

“Did you pick him? Or did he pick
you
?”

“The teacher put us together. Look, Christian, there’s nothing to get upset about, okay?”

He let out a slow exhale and said nothing.

“We can see each other tomorrow at school, and then go do something later,” I said.

“I guess so.”

It had become difficult to have even one day to myself, to make the decision whether to go out with Christian or do something else. It also seemed funny that when Hillman controlled the puppet strings, there was no room for me in Christian’s life. Now there was plenty. Not that Christian wasn’t busy running track, playing piano, or doing amazing amounts of homework. It was that he could do all of it effortlessly, and do it with a girlfriend
and
a hangover

Because I wanted to look decent for my guest, I did little things such as putting on a clean shirt, reapplying my makeup, and even brushing my tongue.

“You’re looking fresh tonight, Rebecca!” It was as if Jesse knew my inner thoughts as he stood on the doorstep, waiting to be asked in. He brought the same tackle box, same green bag, and wore the same jacket.

“It’s like groundhog day,” I said, comparing his second visit to his first. Jesse gave me a queer look through his bangs.

“That’s what I’ve been saying every day for a year. Until I met you.”

I gulped and kept my lips sealed. Jesse acted like it meant nothing, and trotted into the living room to hug my mom and shake my dad’s hand. To me, what he’d said was significant.

It was the reason why I felt different around him and forgot about everything that was a problem in my life. I could have been looking into it too much, but I liked the ride and was going to take the trip.

We settled down and exchanged updates on where we were with our work. I thought I would have been way ahead of Jesse, given that he’d been absent for two days. He surprised me when he slapped a finished drawing down on the table and crossed his arms.

“I rock, you know,” he said with a smirk.

“I actually think you’re right this time.” I picked up the picture and studied the fine stippling of the pencil work. Swirls of color dazzled the paper and flowed into an image that worked synergistically with my own.

“Everything fits together perfectly. Look at the lines. See how they meet? Isn’t that cool how it ended up being like that… and I haven’t seen what you’ve been doing for days.”

I shook my head. There was no doubt about it. “This is awesome, Jesse. You’re really good.”

He sat back in the chair and leaned his head resting on his raised arms.

“Thank you.” His pride in his work showed through his terrific grin. I looked at his jacket and was reminded of the one Christian had given to me.