Illicit: A Novel

by Ava Harrison

  “Please don’t cry,” I whisper. My finger touches her soft skin. “Please. Here.” I point back to the stairs on her brownstone. She turns around, and I place my hand on the small of her back as I usher us toward the steps.

  Once she lowers her body down next to mine, her shoulders fall forward. “I miss you.” The quiver in her voice doesn’t go unnoticed, and it etches away at the strength I’m trying to maintain.

  “I miss you too. More than you know,” I say with a sigh.

  “You know, I see you running past my building at the same time every night.”

  “You do?” I take a deep breath. “Is that why you’re out here tonight?”

  She doesn’t answer, but by the way she is biting her lip, I know it is.

  “I have a confession. I changed my route. I know I’m supposed to stay away, but seeing your place makes me feel closer to you. Like you’re not so far away.”

  “Why are you running so much? Is it because of me?” I nod. “I’m sorry,” she whispers.

  “It’s not your fault.”

  “Does it help?” My eyebrows rise at her question, begging her to clarify. “Running? Does it help with the pain?”

  “Yeah, it does.”

  “You said you started in high school, but what happened that was so bad to make you start?”

  “I told you my parents were never around. They never came to any events for me. No plays, no curriculum nights. Hell, they didn’t even make it to my middle school graduation. As far back as I can remember, it was always my nanny in the audience waving to me and clapping with pride. But no matter how proud my nanny was, it didn’t matter because it wasn’t them. All I wanted was my parents. Well, really, my mom. I hated my dad.”

  A muscle in my jaw twitches as I remember this part of my life. It hurts to talk about it, but I find comfort in Lynn’s eyes. She understands. “This one time it was supposed to be different. They promised they would be there. She promised she would come. I even made reservations that night for us to go to dinner. I mean, what teenager has to make dinner reservations for their own birthday? Well, suffice it to say, they didn’t even bother to call to say they wouldn’t make it. I learned from our cleaning lady that they were still in London. For some dumb reason, I thought it would matter to her at least. I believed for some reason that she would come home—be there for me.”

  I suck in a sharp breath. “Back then I didn’t know how to handle my feelings. I was young and angry at the world. I used to get into a ton of fights. I was one fuck up away from being expelled. The day after my birthday, some guy was in my way, and I pushed him. We were one second away from a full out fight when Mr. O’Brian stepped between us.”

  “What did he do?”

  “He told me I needed to channel my rage and aggression. The track season was already in session, but he said he wouldn’t report me to the principal if I came and trained with the team. I didn’t. I got into more shit, and then he again stepped in to help me. This time, I knew I had no choice. I was pissed at first, but in the end, it was the best thing I ever did. When I’m running, everything slips away. Plus, I learned some valuable life lessons.”

  “What did you learn?” Her face tips up at me, her eyes filled with interest.

  “I learned that sometimes things get painful, but you have to push through and just keep going. Eventually, you’ll hit the finish line.”

  “Wow . . . So, where is he now?”

  “He retired the year after I graduated.”

  “Fate.” She smiles.

  “Exactly.”

  We sit in silence for a few minutes. The sounds of the city are filling the void left by our unspoken words. Lynn lifts her wrist and checks her watch. I know our time is limited, and in a few seconds this moment between friends will disappear.

  “I have to go study. It’s getting late.”

  “I know.” I stand and jog in place to warm up. “I’ll see you around?” She nods at my question, and I take a step backward. Her mouth trembles with the distance I put between us. “This sucks, right?”

  “Yeah, it does.” Lynn agrees.

  “You don’t have to be a stranger. Just because we can’t be together, doesn’t mean we can’t be civil. Check in once in a while.”

  “We can text,” she suggests, and I nod in agreement. “It was good seeing you, Carson.”

  “You too, Lynn.”

  Turning my back, I hit the corner and turn toward Central Park.

  Tonight, I’m going to need a longer run.

  THE LAST WEEK HAS BEEN trying. Keeping a smile on my face when I want to cry has been a feat in itself. I know why Carson doesn’t speak to me at school, but our interactions with one another have halted completely. Now all I get are little smiles in the halls. I had to switch out of his class for my sanity, but it still breaks my heart to see him pass without being able to talk to him. Even after school at the center, we don’t speak. I still keep going no matter how hard it is. I think Toby is coming around, and the thought gives me hope for Carson, too. Yesterday, both of them kept glancing over at me, even though neither said anything. It was hard, but I made it through. Today is even harder. I see him as I walk down the corridor. He turns his head and it feels as if I’m being stabbed in the chest. A few seconds later my cell vibrates in my hand.

  Carson: I’m sorry it has to be like this.

  Me: Me, too.

  Carson: I missed you today.

  Me: I miss you every day.

  Carson: Today was the worst.

  Me: How come?

  Carson: I was discussing a constellation, and it made me think of that night on the beach.

  Me: It was a pretty special night.

  Carson: Every second I’ve had with you was special. I wish it didn’t have to be this way.

  My heart tightens and a lone tear drips down my face. I just have to make the best of a crappy situation. Grabbing my books, I head to the library with a new resolve. No more dwelling on my relationship with him. It’s time to concentrate on me.

  After the library, I plop myself across the lunch table from Bridget. I can feel her eyes boring holes in me, but I can’t speak yet. My mouth and brain are working at odds to determine how to say this. I need to just blurt it out, but I can’t. The longer we sit, the more tension fills the air. It’s suffocating.

  “I-I . . .” I stutter.

  “Lynn, I have told you time and time again, whatever it is, I have your back. I will not judge you.”

  “I had an affair with Carson,” I whisper so no one around can hear.

  “Carson?”

  “Mr. Blake.”

  Her mouth drops open and I have to pull my gaze away. I can’t look at her now. I feel so naked and exposed. “You. What?”

  “I had an affair with—”

  “Your teacher?” She cuts me off mid-sentence, her eyes huge.

  “In my defense, it started before I knew he was my teacher.” Oh shit, did I just say that?

  “Hold up. Let me get this straight. We—me and you—are best friends? Have been for years, right?”

  “Right.”

  “And you have been having an affair with a man, since before school started, and I didn’t know about it?”

  “It’s not exactly like that.” God, this is bad.

  “Why don’t you start from the beginning? I’m thinking that might be a good idea.” She narrows her eyes and waits.

  “Okay.” How do I say this? “Before school started, remember the Labor Day party?”

  “The one where Matt cheated on you?”

  “Yes, ass, that one,” I say, and she grimaces at the bite in my voice. Matt has been a thorn in my side this year. Remembering I was once dumb enough to date him makes me pissed.

  “Sorry.”

  “Forgiven. Okay, so after I found him, I wanted to leave, but I saw you hitting it off with Mase and I didn’t want to ruin your night.”

  “You totally should have,” she deadpans.

  “Are you g
uys done now?”

  “Oh, dear God, yes,” she exclaims. “I was such an idiot. He totally was cheating on me, but I guess, as they say, hindsight is twenty-twenty. I should have known after how Matt treated you.”

  “Next time I think your ex will also be a dick, I’ll interrupt you, how about that?”

  “Sounds great. You do that.”

  “Can I continue my story now?” I laugh as I shake my head.

  “Oops, sorry.”

  “So, I decided to leave, and I found a trail that led down to the beach. While I was there, this guy happened to be as not into the party as me, and he was escaping also. We hit it off. We laughed. We drank. We swam, and then under a canopy of stars we—”

  “You slut.” She laughs. I’m happy that she’s not angry, and I’m surprisingly happy that she finds humor in the situation.

  “Yes, that happened, but then I freaked out and called your drunk ass, and we went back to my mom’s. A few days later, he was my history teacher.”

  “No shit?”

  “No shit.”

  “Why was he even at the party?”

  “Apparently one of his friends was there and he stopped by. And apparently, like me, he couldn’t handle the stupidity, so he went to the beach to have a drink and, like me, get air. Well, suffice it to say, we got to talking, and yada yada yada.”

  “Oh, my God, please don’t skip over the good stuff.” Her eyes are wide, wanting details.

  “Nope, no details.”

  “Fine, you suck. What happened once you got back to school?” She shifts the position of her body, reclining fully into her chair, getting more comfy. “I feel like I need popcorn for this story.”

  I ball up a napkin and throw it at her head.

  “Hey, what’d I do? This shit is about to get juicy, I can tell.”

  “Obviously he was as shocked to see me as I was with him. We tried to stay away from each other, Bridget, we really did. But there were all these community service activities . . . And then the planetarium.”

  Her eyes are huge like saucers by this point. “Oh, I remember that. You were all giddy afterward.”

  “Yeah, it started up around then. We ended up getting together and kissing, and then we—”

  “Oh, please don’t leave out the details.”

  “I’m so not telling you that.”

  “You suck. Okay, can you tell me this? Did you have sex in school?” I look away, breaking eye contact. “You skank, you did. Oh, now you have to tell me! On his desk?” I refuse to look back. “Oh, my. I need a cold shower just thinking about it. I can’t even imagine. He’s so stern, and his eyes. Those lips . . . Does he look like he’s pissed at the world even when he’s fuc—”

  “Bridge . . .” I turn my head back toward her and I scowl.

  “What? Oh, come on. You know I had to ask. The man looks like he needs to get laid. He’s always so damn pissy. Don’t get me wrong, he’s got this boy next door hot-as-fuck look.”

  “Yes, okay. He didn’t screw me in his classroom, but other stuff happened. Happy?”

  “Yep, please go on.”

  “I am not giving you any more details. That’s all you get.”

  A flash of humor crosses her face. “Jerk,” she huffs out before she brings her hand to her mouth to stifle back a laugh.

  “Ho.”

  “Nope, that’s you.” Her giggles finally escape, and I can’t help but chuckle back.

  “Back to my story, shit happened. There was some drama with another teacher.” I reach forward and take a sip of my water. Bridget’s mouth is hanging open again.

  “Oh, shit. Which teacher? What happened?”

  “I don’t want to get into crazy details and to be honest I don’t know them, but basically she forced his hand to go out with her. I can’t bring myself to ask, but after he broke things off with me he went out with her. I’m not sure what happened or how often, but I can tell you I went a bit crazy. I’m not proud of my actions after that. I got insanely jealous. I started to drink. A lot. It was bad.” Her face grows pale and I can tell she’s working hard to keep her emotions in check.

  “Why didn’t you tell me? How did I not know?”

  “I was embarrassed, I was hurt, and to be honest, I—you were so happy. I told you I was sick. I lied to you. I’m so sorry. I just didn’t want to be a burden.” She drops her lashes to hide the hurt behind her eyes, but her lips tremble as she speaks and it breaks my heart.

  “How could you ever say that? You are more than a friend. You’re family. You are the closest person in my life, Lynn. I could never think of you as a burden.”

  “I know that. I knew it then, too. I was so depressed and so ashamed, I just couldn’t. For what it’s worth I’m . . .” It feels like gravel is stuck in my mouth as the notion that I should have told her settles on me. If I had, she would have been there. She would have been a shoulder to cry on. Things might not have gotten so bad.

  “I’m sorry. Truly.”

  There is nothing but compassion in her eyes, and I love her for that. “Don’t do it again. No matter what, you tell me. Good or bad. I’m always here for you.”

  “Thanks, babe. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I should have. I probably wouldn’t have spiraled out of control if I did.”

  “So now what?”

  “Now, I just need to get through school.” I shrug. “I guess.”

  “Mr. Blake?”

  “Oh, no, that’s done. It’s over. He’s actually the one who got me in trouble.”

  “Is this why you got suspended? Do you blame him? I mean, Lynn, you did get caught. I don’t know the deets, but word around town is you passed out.”

  “No, I don’t blame him, not at all. But distance is what we need. I need to get my shit together. Whatever happened with Ms. Stuart—I didn’t ask him what actually went down; I can’t bear to hear it. I don’t think anything more will happen there. I did see her talking to Mr. Dan. So maybe . . .” I raise my eyebrow.

  “The gym teacher? He’s not as hot as Carson.” Amusement flickers in her eyes.

  “Haha, no, but it makes my life less stressful, so I’ll take it. I’ll buckle down, though. Mom is impossible, as you know, so I really need to keep my grades up so I can get into NYU. It’s my only option to move out.” She bows her head and then looks back up to me with clarity in her eyes.

  “You can always crash with me this summer.” Her voice is full of conviction and I know she means it.

  “I know, but your parents already do so much for me. I’m sure they’ll want a break from the kid’s best friend sometime.”

  “You know they adore you.”

  “Yes, but sometimes you need time with just your family. I get it. I wouldn’t want to impose. I’ll just kick some major ass and move into NYU early.”

  “I’m your family.” And in truth, she really is. She’s always been so much more than my best friend, and she always will be no matter what happens in the future. No matter what my mother says.

  DAYS, WEEKS, AND FINALLY THE month passes, and crisp fall days turn into gray winter nights. December looks promising as Carson and I have shifted into a good routine. Although we aren’t together, I’m happy with our weird sort of relationship. It’s almost as though we’re friends.

  One good thing that came of everything is that I really buckled down in school. The fear of getting in trouble again scared me straight. I haven’t touched alcohol or pills since the “incident.” My grades are phenomenal, and I’m really happy about that. Toby also finally came around, and I now find myself at The Kids’ Club more often than the once a week I was originally obligated for.

  The best part, though, is that my mom hasn’t been around much—or at all. Apparently, Richard proposed right when she arrived at Canyon Ranch. I found out via text. I’m not surprised. Most kids would be angry over the relationship I have with her, but I no longer let it bother me. There was a time when it festered in my soul, but not anymore. Dr. Young has helped me. He showe
d me that there are too many other things to be excited about.

  Today is one of those days. I just received an email from NYU that not only stated I got accepted, but also that I can start school early and I got space in the dorm. I’ll be moving out and starting my new life in June. I can’t wait to tell Carson and Bridget the news. But first I try calling my dad. He went to NYU, growing up he always told me I should go there. It rings four times before going to voicemail. Maybe he just can’t answer a call. I shoot him a text.

  Me: Can you talk?

  Dad: Sorry, I can’t.

  His short answer causes my stomach to knot. I will not let his behavior ruin my mood. I’ve come too far for that.

  Me: Where you at?

  Bridget: Outside.

  I leave the school building through a side door to look for her, slipping on my jean jacket before I step outside. It’s not very cold, but there’s definitely a chill in the air.

  I don’t make it more than a few feet before I’m face to face with the last person I thought I would see in the alleyway alongside Cranbrook: my asshole ex-boyfriend. He’s standing with some straggly guy I recognize as a sophomore. Matt’s long, muscular body is leaning against the wall, and he’s puffing on a joint as his other hand rummages through his pocket and fishes out a dime bag packed with pot. The kid hands him money and then jets off in the other direction. God fucking damn it.

  “Well, hello, Lynn.” His words slide out lazily because he’s high. I want nothing to do with this right now.

  “Why are you here, Matt? Were you really just selling drugs to that kid?”

  “I missed you,” he draws out, not even bothering to deny my accusations.

  “I didn’t miss you.”

  “That’s not very nice.”

  I move to the left to go past him, but with each step I take, he counters to block me in. My eyes narrow and I place my hand on my hip.

  “Do you mind?”

  “But I miss you,” he slurs. “You look smokin’ today.” A finger grazes the skin of my thigh under the hem of my skirt.

  I taste bile in my throat. Again I move, and again, he steps to follow me. All the muscles in my neck tighten, and I have an uneasy feeling in my stomach.